Alone, on the deck of her ship, Lucidra Naeem watched the harbor fire with an excitement she hadn't felt since she'd killed her husband ten years ago. Ten years was a long time to wait and do nothing but prepare, but she had also waited ten years to kill that pig of a husband. She'd been prepared to wait much longer to free her brother from prison. Fortunately for her, the opportunity came much sooner than she'd anticipated.

Who would have imagined Muradi would mess up as royally as he had? To the point of getting his throne usurped by his own son and now being hunted by his own soldiers? Hunted, because until someone showed her the bastard's corpse, only a fool would believe he was already dead. And they'd hunt him down for that. Salar or not, his existence was a threat to those who didn't submit to him.

But dead or alive, the change of Salar had put an end to her decade long preparation to free Niroza. With Muradi gone, the Rajs who controlled the ports had already taken steps to liberate the city from the Salasar's rule. An uprising was inevitable. The amount of tariff that had been going to Rasharwi, after all, was a sum large enough to build a Madira every five years. You could ask the poor to pay taxes and fees and they'd do it more or less willingly, but tell the richest merchants in the city to contribute and you'll have yourself a rebellion to watch for. In a city as big as Rasharwi and Samarra, money moved everything––including its ruler from the throne. Here, in Samarra, everything you saw belonged to one of the three Rajs who controlled the ports.

It was why Muradi had chosen the most powerful Raj's daughter as his Salahari and given her father control of the province.

'Making Imam Raj governor strengthens his power over the other Rajs,' her brother Niroza had said. 'Keeping his daughter in the Tower offers him leverage. Control the ports, and one controls the peninsula. He knows this. It's a smart move and one necessary to unite the Salasar.'

The admiration her brother had for the same man who sent him to prison two decades ago appalled her. Sixteen of their ships had been taken by the Salasar and two hundred crew imprisoned with Niroza when Muradi had hunted them down. For hundreds of years, her family had controlled the most feared network of pirates in the sea, now it was only her and a dozen ships of mediocre crew who couldn't even set fire to a port properly.

But the port was burning. Lucidra smiled at the sight. This was the second port she'd burned this week, and the burning would continue until they free her brother. The Salasar's control of Samarra was at its weakest with the fall of Muradi. There was no better time to negotiate for his release.

"Still enjoy burning things, I see," someone said from behind, smooth as the waves that lapped against the side of her ship, firm as the power that was rocking it from side to side. "I thought you would have grown out of it by now."

Lucidra closed her eyes to the voice she hadn't heard in decades, to the anger she felt for having recognized it still. She didn't turn around to look if she had been right. She didn't have to. "I see you're not dead, after all."

He made his way to where she stood, pausing to linger a step behind. She realized she recognized those steps, too. She hated that she did.

"You know me," said the man who must have slipped on board the last time they made berth. "I'm not that easy to kill."

You know me, he said. An assumption. Or is it a presumption? "And you think I wouldn't try." She turned to face him, and just now realized the size of the breath she'd been holding. "Or that I can't?"

In the dark of the night, lit only by the moonlight that came from behind his right shoulder, Ranveer Borkhan stood on the deck of her ship like a ghost of something she'd buried decades ago. They still clung to him like shadows––that ridiculous confidence, the unconcealed entitlement, and the annoying attitude of a man who believed he could claim any space he occupied––most of the time because he'd yet to fail the task. And he was standing now, on the deck of her ship, trying to claim it again, along with something else he'd discarded.

"You're not the only one who wants me dead, Lucidra." He caught her eyes and smiled. The unfamiliar lines on his face deepened. They suited him, those lines. "It doesn't stop me from being where I need to be."

Young or old, the arrogance hadn't changed, she thought bitterly. "It's a little late for apologies, if that's why you're here."

"No," he said, "that would require me to feel sorry to apologize."

"And you are not."

"And I am not."

A breeze came between them, bringing with it the scent of salt and smoke from the harbor fire, and the memory of a conversation one night before everything had changed. Niroza had offered him a position as his second in command then, had asked the exiled prince they'd picked up two years before to stay.

'I'm no one's second,' Ranveer had replied. 'My place is not here among you. It is in the Black Tower, on the throne where my father sits, in front of the army he commands.'

Her brother had listened and smiled. He'd always liked the exiled prince, everyone knew. 'And if our paths should collide?' Niroza had asked. 'What then?'

Ranveer had paused for a second. A pause, she'd thought, to deliver it right, not to make a decision. Looking straight at her brother, catching his eyes, he'd replied, 'Then you will be in my way.'

They all knew what it meant. For two years, Niroza had kept him on their ship. People who were in his way didn't survive, nevermind whose side they were on.

She bit down on where her missing tooth would have been, the one she'd lost after their paths had collided. A parting gift from her dead husband, that. A collateral damage another man had forced her to live with. Funny how something missing could bring so many stories to mind, sometimes better than what was still there.

The ship rocked again. Another wave against the hull, pushing its way to the other side, forcing her to find balance. "My brother trusted you," she said.

"A mistake," he concluded. "I've sworn no allegiance, broken no vow."

That, he hadn't. "It wouldn't have made a difference." She knew that now, or had known for a long time. "You would have broken one anyway."

A hint of smile appeared at the corner of his lips. It seemed to please him that she understood. "If I had to."

Silence settled between them. The waves seemed to have stopped rolling. She turned to look at the small flag at the stern and realized the wind had stopped blowing some time ago. They were alone on the deck; she had asked for solitude to be accommodated. He had broken that, and now it felt crowded and small.

"I can turn you in," she said. She could do that, easily. He was unarmed.

"You can." The smile grew wider.

"Take my revenge. Get my brother out."

"It's possible."

"But you think I wouldn't."

He placed a foot forward, but moved no further. "I don't know, Lucidra," he said. "I'm here to cut you a deal, and you will have to make a decision. This is mine."

"Cut me a deal?" Her jaw dropped open at that. The entitlement, the shameless audacity of it surprised her, and she didn't think she could still be surprised by this man. "You think you can walk back into my life and ask for my cooperation, after what you've done?"

"It's strictly business," he confirmed crisply. "You have what I want, and I can give you what you want. Doesn't have to be more complicated than it needs to be."

"Business." It came out of her like puss, bubbling out from a wound closed too soon being pried open again. The stench of it filled her nose, her mouth, her lungs. "Do you know what happened when you put him away? What I had to do? Who I had to fuck? What happens to a woman on a ship full of pirates without a commander? What it took for me to survive because of what you did? What––"

He raised a hand and cut her off mid-sentence. "I am aware," he said. "I know what you did, what you had to do, who your husband was, how he died, how long you waited to kill him." A pause to breathe, to close the statement with a fist. "I also know you have a son. I wondered sometimes if he's mine. But that's not why I'm here."

And it hit the mark, so deliberate and precise he might as well have punched her in the gut. She thought about giving him an answer to that, but realized it wouldn't have made a mark. Not to someone like Ranveer Borkhan. Definitely not to the former Salar of Rasharwi for how many sons he'd executed. "No. Of course, not." You back-stabbing piece of shit. "You wouldn't come here for that."

He stepped calmly into the light, made sure she could see his eyes and what was missing in them. "We can stay here and lick our old wounds until they rot, Lucidra, or we can talk business and get somewhere with our lives. Am I," he said, light as the tap of a blade on the shoulder, "talking to a woman I left behind or the captain of this fleet?"

The wind blew again. This time it circled around them, bringing with it another set of memories she had long forgotten. She realized, looking at him more closely now, that this, too, hadn't changed in the past twenty years. There was still indifference in those eyes, as there had always been in the young Ranveer. He had, not once, looked at her as something to be handled with care.

"A good question." She closed the distance between them, raised a hand, and rammed a fist into the left side of his jaw.

"That's from a woman," she said. "Now you're talking to the captain. Matteo!" she called. The quartermaster she'd sent belowdeck rushed up on command, took a glance at the intruder, and drew his sword. "Take this scumbag, tie him up, and keep him secure. Prepare a message for Imam Raj first thing in the morning. Tell him we have the former Salar of Rasharwi. "

***

Zahara stood by the window, looking down at Ghaul who had been pacing back and forth for the past two hours. The two-story apartment Di Amarra had found them had been serving as their hideout since they arrived in Samarra. The plan had been to wait for Muradi's injuries to heal enough to handle a some combat before they began working on finding allies, but the moment Muradi had seen the harbor fire, no one could stop him from leaving, not even Ghaul.

She hadn't tried to stop him. If you knew anything about the Salar of Rasharwi, you'd know that when it came to his city, his people, his empire, no force in heaven or on earth was going to stop him from doing what needed to be done. He had, after all, traded more than the lives of his sons to keep things running as they should. The Salasar had always been his priority, his prized possession, the one thing he would sacrifice anything for.

And they were burning down the ports of Samarra––the Salasar's most crucial lifelines.

'Every port they burn will take another year to rebuild,' he'd said, grinding his teeth as if feeling a wound. 'It will affect the supply lines of the entire Salasar, raise the price of everything from spice to silk to iron and give its citizen more cause to start an uprising. I'm not going to sit here and watch my city burn. The damage isn't contained here nor will it end when we take the city. We have to stop the burning, and we have to stop it now!'

It was a big risk he'd decided to take––to negotiate with the sister of someone he'd thrown in prison two decades ago. Even though they seemed to have known each other in the past, there was no way to be sure she wouldn't hand him over to Azram in exchange for Niroza. She had a feeling there was more to their relationship than he was willing to reveal, and perhaps that relationship had been what he'd decided to gamble on, but it was still a gamble––one that involved too much risk in everyone's opinion. But while they all knew him as one of the most calculating strategists alive besides di Amarra, they also knew he could be the most reckless bastard the world had ever seen depending on how far you pushed him to the edge.

The wound on her back throbbed as she considered what was at stake. Muradi had told her what happened, why she had been attacked, and what di Amarra wanted from them. She might not give a damn what happened to him, but she needed the antidote to stay alive, which required Muradi to live. Deo di Amarra, after all, would have no use for her without him. She would be left to die out of convenience the moment her wretched husband was executed. The irony of it stung her like acid. She had spent a lifetime wanting to see him die, now she had to make sure he lived.

But what must be done must be done. She tugged on her shawl and went downstairs to where the others gathered. Qasim and his men were at the table, chatting loudly over drinks, pretending they didn't notice the beast that had arrived at the door. By the window, Deo di Amarra stood in silence, staring out into the dark at Ghaul with a face that confirmed everyone's worst fear. But no one seemed to have said a word. The conversation, she thought, hadn't even begun.

Zahara sighed. Sometimes she did miss Muradi for how quickly he tossed bad news on the table. Had he been here on someone else's account, they would have been working on the problem an hour ago.

"He's not coming back, is he?" she said.

Quiet dropped from the ceiling and crash-landed on the table. Qasim and his men turned to her abruptly, then shifted their gaze toward Deo di Amarra.

"No," said the Khandoor lightly. "I suppose he's not."

The men swallowed, kept their mouths shut as if silence was required to protect them from some bad omen. They all waited for di Amarra to continue, to tell them what would happen next, but the words never came.

"Where will they take him?" she asked.

Di Amarra moved to the table and poured himself a drink, seemingly unaffected by the event, if not also bored. "I'd put money on Imam Raj," he said. "To negotiate for a prisoner exchange."

It made sense. As the Governor of Samarra, father to the former Salahari, and grandfather to Azram, Imam had direct contact with the Black Tower from where the decision to release Niroza Naeem must be obtained. The prisoner trade she wanted would be through him. "Can you intercept that exchange?"

"I can do anything, my lady." The Red Mamba smiled. "But it will cost me my position at court to interfere. Azram knows I'm here, and there are too many eyes in this city. The moment word gets out that he's in Samarra, everyone will be looking. I won't take that risk."

Understandable. "But you do need him alive."

"Along with my influence in the Tower to make use of it." He finished the drink, poured himself another. "I'm afraid the only way to save him is to break him out before Lucidra Naeem initiates the trade, before anyone else knows he's here, which gives you only tonight, before dawn. Give or take a few hours."

She looked outside, at the moon and how late in the evening it was. "You think she will make a move that soon?"

A smile, as if from an adult to a child. "Niroza has been imprisoned for over twenty years," he said. "In her shoes, would you have waited?"

Zahara bit her lip. "And you can't send one of your assassins?"

Di Amarra shook his head. "They're on a ship. These are the most professional pirates in the sea. How do you suggest my men get on board unnoticed? Swim?"

He had a point. The only reason Muradi had gotten on board at all unnoticed was by slipping in with the crew the last time they docked. Now that they have him, they would stay clear of the harbor and guard him with every man they had. The only way anyone could get to Muradi tonight was by a boat, in plain sight, before they make berth again in the morning.

From the other side of the room, she realized Deo di Amarra was staring at her.

"I see," she said and made a decision. "How soon can you get us a boat?"

The Red Mamba's smile widened. "Tonight. Now. Whenever you desire, my lady."

She nodded, closed her eyes, and sighed. So be it, then.

"Get the boat. Give me half an hour." She turned to Qasim who seemed to have forgotten the drink in his hand. "You're coming with me."

***

A/N: I'm so, so very sorry for the late update and very happy to be able to do this now. The delay was due to two things: Getting Obsidian:Awakening edited and published, and then I took two months off to travel to the Galapagos, Belize, Mexico, and the US. My husband and I came back with him having caught Covid-19 and so we had to be quarantined for another 2 weeks. I managed to finish this chapter during our quarantine period. I hope it's not weird or anything ^^!

Anyway, for now Book 1 is available on Amazon in ebook format and Kindle Unlimited. I'm working on getting the paperback and hardcover up and running at the moment. Since most of you have read it, I wouldn't ask that you buy it to read again, but for the sake of rankings and reviews, I am planning to offer the book for free download soon and if you guys don't mind supporting me, by downloading, voting, and leaving a review (or any one of the three),  you will help push this book up the ranking and more people would see it. Or for the very least leave me a goodreads review if you can. It would mean a lot. I will announce here again for when the free download is available. Thank you, guys.