The warmth on her face stirred her.
She stretched instinctively, wincing as her skin protested – this always happened when she got too much sun. Still feeling the hold of sleep, she lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the harsh light, letting them adjust slowly.
As awareness returned, she took in her surroundings.
She lay on a makeshift bed of long palm leaves, which explained the dull ache threaded through every limb. When she shifted, her fingers brushed her wound. It still throbbed, but gently now — a distant echo of the pain she had known before.
Then she became abruptly aware of another, far more unfamiliar soreness as she shifted to sit.
…Why do I feel sore… There?!
A sandy breeze skimmed across her skin, drawing her gaze to the side.
A slow, sinful smile curved her lips.
He lay beside her on his back, hands clasped behind his head, like he had not a care in the world. Even like this, unguarded and unaware, he was impossibly alluring.
Memory came flooding back.
Heat. Water. Breathless laughter and broken sounds. The way she had tipped over the edge of ecstasy and collapsed against him, panting into his neck. She remembered how long they had stayed like that — cradled together, neither willing to move. How he had carried her from the pool when her body refused to cooperate, laying her gently on this bed before sleep claimed her almost instantly.
His warmth still lingered against her side, steady and grounding, as though he had never truly let her go.
The bed was tucked beneath the dusty overhang of a temple façade — sheltered, private, with a clear view of the Oasis beyond.
Her eyes wandered to the outside.
So, this is the Oasis.
It looked otherworldly. The sun was bright enough to sting her sensitive eyes before they adjusted, revealing water glittering lazily beneath the breeze. Tall, sturdy trees stood watch around it, separating green from sand that stretched endlessly in every direction.
There were no buildings in the distance, no silhouette of civilisation, no sounds of chirping birds.
Only quiet.
A serenity she remembered feeling once before — when she had hovered too close to death.
A shiver traced her spine, grounding her in the truth.
She was alive.
She lay on her side again, watching his chest rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm. His stern features were softened in sleep, the weight he carried eased — just for now.
It wasn't a dream.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, she had woken in the same place she had fallen asleep.
As much as she loved seeing him like this, it was still… new. A teasing thought crossed her mind — that when he woke, she might provoke him on purpose, just to watch that stern composure crack. Then she imagined all the ways she could make that harsh face melt away again.
Her pulse quickened.
She wondered if she should let him sleep. Considered tracing her fingers along his face, memorising the feel of him.
"Wake him up," she heard the Western breeze whisper in her ear.
"Do it," the floral breeze called again.
Before last night, she would never have entertained such thoughts. She would have shaken him awake and masked it with sharp words, hiding behind habit. She hide in her arm, hiding from an internal embarrassment.
Now, conflicting emotions churned within her, unease tightening her chest. Heat and shame twisted together.
How could she have let this happen?
The thoughts wouldn't stop.
What if he wants to pretend it didn't happen?
He's the Pharaoh and I – I am no one.
As if sensing the shift in her, he stirred.
"Good morning, Zahra."
His voice was hoarse from sleep.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She snapped upright, managing only a spluttered greeting.
He chuckled softly and sat up with effortless grace. In sleep he had looked peaceful — now, as he rested his forearms on his knees and stared out across the Oasis, the weight of the world settled back onto his shoulders.
The silence between them pressed down hard.
There was so much to do. They needed supplies. Answers. A way home.
Yet all she could think was that he hadn't even looked at her once.
Her heart sank.
She'd have to prepare herself to get through the rest of the day.
As if reading her thoughts, he moved toward her without warning. Large hands cupped her jaw, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead — reverent, careful. Nothing like the hunger of the night before.
Still, she couldn't keep a throbbing heat from moving across her whole being.
She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. She hated how easily he unravelled her composure, how desire threatened the discipline she had honed her entire life.
He rose to his feet, towering over her.
She knelt in his shadow and looked up at him as though he were the world itself — his power, his humility, his gentleness, his strength
His fierce skill.
All reason slipped away.
The oath she had once spoken without understanding burned anew in her chest.
I will pledge myself to you.
I will devote myself to you.
I will heed your every command.
I will protect you… with my last breath.
Back then, she had taken the oath without truly understanding.
It was protocol, a requirement that needed to be met.
Now she meant it, pouring her soul into each line, feeling it with every inch of her body.
"Come," he said, extending a hand. "Let us find our way home."
Trembling, she placed her hand in his, never tearing away from his commanding gaze. The winds swept in from both sides, lifting her as she rose, tugging her hair back in a golden stream.
I am yours…
She nearly lost herself in his eyes — until he turned and stepped into the temple.
No. I can't keep feeling these… feelings!
Yes. This was going to be a very long day.
He felt useless.
Standing within his own land, beneath an unfamiliar sky, he had no idea where they were. The Oasis was rich and fertile, and this temple — undeniably Egyptian — yet he knew nothing of it.
How could such a place exist without my knowledge? Who could have commissioned a temple like this?
He climbed the wide, shallow steps into the structure, feeling oddly light on his feet. At the top, a subtle shift in the horizon caught his attention.
The sky darkened faintly in the distance.
He climbed the wide, shallow steps into the structure, feeling oddly light on his feet. At the top, a subtle shift in the horizon caught his attention.
Not a sandstorm he decided – though if it were, they'd be safe here.
A soft sigh behind him drew his focus back.
Zahra stood a few steps below. Sunlight crowned her head, her hair glowing like a halo as she tucked it behind her ear, eyes lowered.
His breath caught.
That hair — slipping through his fingers like molten gold. His face buried in it. And when he fisted a handful and pulled a little tighter than he had intended, it drew the most delicious sound from her.
Her scent. Her body pressed against his.
Not here. Not now. Not when this was so new.
He had told himself for too long that his fascination was curiosity — that she was simply different. Exotic. Unpredictable.
But that lie had shattered the night before.
Everyone treated him with reverence, fear, and obedience. Zahra never had. She had kept him at arm's length, meeting him with steel and sharp words — except when his life was in danger.
Except last night.
Last night she had held him with hunger and longing he had never known — and he wanted more.
Still, fear gnawed at him.
Had he moved too fast? Had she wanted him as deeply as he wanted her? The memory of the desire in her eyes burned into him, raw and undeniable — a look that said she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, perhaps even more so, since she had been the one to push things further.
He twitched as he let his body remember the feel of her.
He forced the thoughts aside as she climbed the steps toward him. Her shoulders were slumped, burdened.
He prayed it was only her recovery.
That morning, he had kissed her forehead deliberately — a promise, not a demand. A way of cementing their new relationship. Yet doubt lingered. What if she regretted it?
The thought terrified him.
When she reached the top step, their eyes met — gold-ringed black, flecked with amber. How was it possible to find all the treasures of the world in someone's eyes.
She was always so critical of herself. Strength unmatched. Resolve unbreakable. Yet she saw only flaws — her curves, her voice, her softness.
He saw perfection.
Her perfect imperfections, never to be changed, only to be adored.
As she turned away, cheeks flushed, hands fidgeting, his chest tightened. In this quiet, she was not his champion — just a woman, uncertain and vulnerable.
And he knew, with sudden clarity, that he would protect her from any shadow that dared reach for her.
She was everything.
The tension was so thick, she could slice it with a blade.
Why? Why did he have to look at me like that?
Heat crept up her neck. She rubbed at the skin and took a few slow steps away, closing her eyes, dragging in steady breaths until her pulse eased.
It took everything she had to tear her gaze off him. The flame of desire licked at her core, hot and restless. She didn't know what he felt about last night — and the thought that he might regret it…
The fear was worse than any blade.
Fear was something she used to hone her skills and keep her sharp.
This left her frozen.
Why was this man so far under her skin?
A sandy breeze skimmed over her shoulder.
She opened her eyes — and stilled.
In her thoughts, she had unwittingly stepped into the gloom.
Columns rose in elegant rows. Open courts and narrow halls framed channels of flowing water that traced the ceiling before gathering at the far end, spilling down in a quiet waterfall into a still, waiting pool.
It seemed achingly familiar to her once she saw carved from the sand of her dreams.
Her breath caught.
The scents. The air.
The water…
It was the pool where they had taken things to the next level.
Her whole body tensed. She forced the memory down.
The temple was old — older than it should have been. Etchings along the walls had softened with time, edges worn smooth. Yet it wasn't abandoned. Sand barely touched the floor. The artefacts were clean. Even the faded paintings looked recently tended.
"Atem, come take a look at…"
He was already beside her before she finished her sentence.
She faltered, fidgeting with her hands.
"Someone still cares for this temple," he said quietly, eyes scanning, measuring, calculating.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him taking in the grandeur.
But her focus drifted back to the pool.
It sat in the centre, calm and unassuming. Waiting.
The Living Waters.
Her body remembered everything. Too easily, as if desperate to feel it again.
The water at her waist. The cool air on bare skin. His heat against her. The way he held her like she might disappear.
Her whole body surged from her head to her toes, aching in the most delicate of places.
Too much. It was too much.
And still the doubt gnawed at her — what if he regretted it?
What if she had meant more to herself than she ever had to him?
She couldn't let herself unravel here. Not now.
While he remained distracted by the temple, she quietly gathered herself, muscles tightening, breath shallow.
Then, without a word, she slipped away.
Deeper into the gloom.