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      She needed to pull away. For her own sanity, she had to. But Amani stayed put, not willing to leave the shelter of his arms. It was sweet torture.

      She managed to lift her head, but her cheek rubbed his as she pulled away, and his face hovered near hers. She couldn't help but gaze into his dark eyes, silently pleading for him to let go—to throw caution to the wind and give her his heart. She'd protect it. She'd cherish it. She'd never throw it away.

      Ziyad closed his eyes, as if he could no longer bear to look at her. Yet he didn't release her. He hadn't spoken a word, but she felt his rejection clear to her toes. She had to get away.

      A long, low note hit the air outside his carav. Ziyad's eyes snapped open just as the caravan came to a halt. They'd reached his oasis.

      The instant his arms loosened, Amani pushed her way out of them. Before he could stop her, she dashed across the room and ripped open the door. With tears in her eyes, she shot across the sand, uncaring for where she was going. She vaguely heard her husband calling her name behind her, but she didn't stop, not even when she came to the water's edge.

      Crashing through various grasses, bushes and trees, Amani finally stopped on the other side of Ziyad's oasis. Her tears fell in torrents, and she collapsed in a heap, unable to keep her soul from flying apart.

      Her mother had been right. Huge white rahala blooms grew everywhere. Their scent filled the sky, surrounding her, filling her head with images of Ziyad's face. He'd asked if she was going mad. She was beginning to think she was. How much more could she take, being rejected by her husband again and again?

      She had to harden her heart. That was the only way she could survive. She had to.

      Amani vaguely heard an uproar near the caravs. She knew she'd caused it. Everyone had seen her running this way. Ziyad himself probably wasn't too far behind. She'd be punished, she knew. Making him worry about her wasn't tolerated.

      But she couldn't go back. Not yet.

      Wiping her eyes, Amani stood and walked further along the water's edge. It was gorgeous here, with birds cawing in the trees and the lap of the cool water against the sand. The Spider's oasis was bigger than she thought it would be, an oval situated in the desert. The water was as smooth as glass and the air was cooler. Fresher.

      After a few more minutes of walking, she came across a mound of dirt with a golden spider laid across the middle. Rocks ringed the mound, and many dead and withered rahala blooms lay about its base. There was only one thing this mound could possibly be.

Karis's grave.

      On the spider's abdomen were etched four words. 'Karis Bihar, Spider Princess.'

      Amani covered her mouth and stood there for what seemed an eternity.

      "Karis," she whispered. "Gods, I wish you were alive. Ziyad needs you. He hurts so much. He tries not to show it, but I can see his pain. He doesn't want me. I thought he might, but he doesn't. Now, I get to bear him the son you never could. But I'm not sure I'll survive this.

      "You were so perfect, Karis. You were everything I can never be."

      The sound of rustling came from behind her. Amani turned to see Ziyad emerging from the trees. His eyes were wide and his breath came in deep pants. He seemed wary, as if she might flee him again.

      Amani took a deep breath. "The spider you placed on her grave is exquisite."

      He glanced down to Karis's grave, then back to her. "What are you doing here?"

      She turned toward the mound. "Paying my respects." Good. Her voice didn't waver.

      After a short silence, Ziyad said, "The sun hits this glade the first thing in the morning. She loved mornings."

      Amani nodded. "She'd have liked that."

      "She hated spiders," he said, a little closer this time.

      Amani smiled. "I know. I used to tease her about it when you accepted her. I made it known that I had no problem with spiders."

      He chuckled, but his mirth soon faded away. "Why did you run from me, Amani?"

      She hesitated before answering him. "Because I finally understood the terms of our marriage. I needed to clear my head."

      "You didn't understand them before?"

      With a sigh, Amani plucked a nearby rahala bloom and placed it on Karis's grave. "I was in denial, I believe. Caught up in my first bout of passion, I was bound to be infatuated with you, Spider. But you belong with her."

      Ziyad gazed at the ground with his hands balled into fists.

      Amani walked up to him and placed her palm on his shoulder. "I loved Karis, too," she whispered before wandering back into the trees.

~ * ~

      Ziyad stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. He'd heard every word Amani had spoken before she knew he was there. She'd wished Karis could ease his pain. Amani believed she'd never be as good as his first wife.

      Gods, is that what he'd done to the caring young girl he'd taken from Suridesh? Had he squashed her selfconfidence? Taken away her self-worth?

      The Falcon had warned something like this might happen. Khalil had said that Ziyad's despair was so dark and desperate, he'd do nothing more than pull Amani down with him and extinguish what made her unique—her caring spirit.

      But what Amani didn't know was that every time he was around her, Ziyad felt more alive than he had these past two years. She brought sunshine into his dark corners and chased away his demons. He wanted to cling to her, but the memory of Karis weighed him down. How could he want to fly with Amani when he'd been so in love with Karis?

      "Tell me what to do," he said aloud. If Karis was with the god of Spiders, then perhaps she could hear him. The sun had finally set beyond the dunes, painting the sky a lovely shade of golden orange. Amani had left him, claiming he belonged here. But there was nothing in this glade but cold, dark silence. He wanted warmth. He wanted light.

      Gods above, he wanted Amani.

      "I do not wish to defile your memory," he said brokenly. But he remembered Amani's gentle acceptance. She'd never expected him to put his love for Karis aside. All she wanted…was to be wanted.

      Ziyad didn't know if his intuition was from his god, from Karis, or just from his gut. But he knew he had to tell Amani what was on his heart or he'd risk her spiraling into her own despair.

      After laying another rahala bloom on the mound, Ziyad turned back for his caravan. Karis was his past, but Amani was his future. Tonight, she would stay in his carav. They were married—it was about time they started acting like it.

      Ziyad's people were happy as they set up camp near his oasis. Children chased each other, falling over themselves to run and play, contradicting the sorrow in Amani's heart. She tried not to show her anguish, and smiled whenever someone looked at her. But even in the midst of the Spider's caravan, she felt so alone.

      The sky grew dark and a few stars winked at her. She sat on a small stone by the water's edge and gazed up at them. There was the Spider's constellation, almost directly over Ziyad's oasis. Amani wondered what her sisters were up to, and what life was like back in Suridesh. Probably the same boring monotony.

      Right about now, she'd welcome that monotony.

      "The stars are bright tonight."

      Ziyad's voice didn't startle her this time. Nor did she look at him. She continued to gaze up toward the heavens.

      "Do you think heaven is among the stars?" she asked.

      "I don't know," he said.

      "I hope so," she replied. "I would love to look down upon Jikkar and shine my light when I am gone."

      By the rustling of his robes, she knew Ziyad looked up as well.

      "The moons won't rise for awhile yet," she told him. "There is your constellation."

      "Yes," he said. "I see it."

      "I used to stare at the spider in the sky and wonder what you were doing. In the two years after you accepted me for your wife, I wanted to know what kept you from marrying me."

      He stepped closer. She could see him out of the corner of her eye. But she kept her eyes on the stars.

      "I cried myself to sleep by Karis's grave more than a few times," he confessed. "I combed the desert looking for her killers. I was ready to send those bastards into the flames of Kaldaeron. But I never found them, never learned who they were. They're still out there somewhere and I can't abide by that."

      "What will you do if you find them?" Amani already knew the answer.

      "I will give them justice."

      She shivered at the cruelty in his words.

      "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle this time.

      Amani shivered again. "I suppose I am."

      Ziyad held his hand out to her. She lowered her gaze and looked at him. He cocked his head, silently telling her to take his hand. Once she did, he pulled her up to stand beside him.

      "I have been cold for a very long time," he told her. "The only warmth I've found has been in your arms."

      Her heart quickened and she swallowed hard. He must have seen the surprise on her face, for he smiled gently.

      "I want to be warm tonight," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "Will you stay with me, Amani?"

      She hadn't been expecting him to open up to her, even a little bit. Hearing him confess he was warm in her embrace made her entire being ache for him. It astonished her and she swayed on her feet. Ziyad steadied her.

      "I can deny you nothing," she whispered. "If you can forget your pain, even for a little while, then I will gladly keep you warm, Spider."

      His wide, handsome grin tugged on her heart. It was impossible trying to harden herself around her husband, especially when he could melt her with just a look alone.

      "Then I will order our dinner to be sent to my carav."

      Amani nodded slowly and followed when he drew her behind him. She couldn't decide if she'd been delivered to heaven or made to endure hell.

~ * ~

      Ziyad led her up the steps to his carav and snapped his fingers. Four ornate silver lamps lit, hanging from the ceiling, giving her a clear view of his quarters. She'd been in here earlier, but her eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dark from the bright sun. Now that she could clearly see, she gasped at his decadent surroundings.

      Just like in her carriage, black fabric hung on his walls, but his fabric was made from fine, soft silks. Colorful pillows of all sizes littered the floor where he slept, and the carpet beneath her feet depicted a scene of black and silver spiders in their webs.

      The pedestal throne he'd set her on earlier was also covered in fine fabrics, and the strong, heady scent of rahala blossoms greeted her nose.

      "Your carav is glorious," she said in awe, looking all around her at the black chests, gilded with silver, which held his clothing. A few papers lay in disarray on a polished table, and the pitcher and goblet she remembered still sat next to his throne on the floor.

      "I suppose I no longer see the splendor my position affords me," he said, glancing around with her. "I have taken my throne for granted."

      "I do not believe you have," Amani told him. "You've had…other things on your mind. Do you settle disputes of your people here?"

      "I have in the past," he replied. "But not lately. There have been no disputes to settle. Our caravan is a friendly lot."

      Amani coughed behind her hand and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Ziyad had said 'our caravan', as if she was his princess. Perhaps he meant it in a broader sense, encompassing his people as well. That had to be it.

      A soft knock interrupted them and the Spider made his way to the door. The head cook, Patik, glanced into the carav and her eyes lit on Amani. A wide grin stretched across her face before she handed her prince his food.

      "Have a spirited evening, Your Highness." She winked before Ziyad closed the door.

      "That woman has a loose tongue," he growled, setting down the tray. Amani joined him when he sat in the pillows.

      "She merely wishes to see you happy, Spider."

      "And you know this how?" he said, taking a bite of the fragrant flatbread.

      Amani took her own piece of bread and dipped it into a creamy sauce. "Your people love you," she answered. "They grieve for their princess just as much as you do. But they wish nothing but the best for you and hope I bear you healthy heirs."

      Ziyad arched a brow and lifted his mouth in a halfgrin. "It would seem you have found a way to speak to them after all."

      "Yes, well," she said, reaching for the water goblet. "Patik might be uncomfortable around me, but at least she doesn't wave me away like your lead carav driver."