Naamah's Curse by Jacqueline Carey

mine, yearning to close the distance between us, I couldn’t imagine how he was resisting its call. It was taking every ounce of pride I possessed not to go to him, but I was damned if I would take those last few steps. “Why did you stay?”
    “Where is your Imperial entourage, Moirin?” Bao asked, not answering my question. He frowned toward the horizon. “You took me by surprise. I knew you were close, but I thought you would enter with fanfare. Did Ten Tigers Dai come with you? I would be pleased to see him.”
    “There is no entourage,” I muttered, wiping at my tears. “No Imperial entourage.”
    “What?”
Bao stared at me as though my words made no sense.
    “There is no Imperial entourage,” I repeated with irritation. “Forgive me, I did not know you were missing Ten Tigers Dai so badly. I came on my own. Well, that is not entirely true,” I added. “I came with representatives of Batu’s tribe, who gave me hospitality during the long winter. They have been very kind to me. But it is not exactly an entourage.”
    “Moirin…” The blood drained from Bao’s face, leaving him ashen. He continued to stare at me in horrified disbelief. “Are you saying you set out in pursuit of me alone? Across the Tatar steppe? In winter?”
    “Yes, Bao,” I said with precision. “That is exactly what I’m saying.”
    The blood rushed back into his face, flushing his high, wide cheekbones. He began shouting at me. “Oh, you stupid, stupid girl, in the name of all that is holy—”
    I overrode him, my voice rising as I shouted in reply. “What else was I to do, Bao? You needed me to find a way to prove myself to you. How else was I to do it? Was I to wait forever in Shuntian like some poor besotted fool jilted by her suitor, praying for his return? You said yourself you didn’t know if you would come back! This was the only thing I could think to do! And if you don’t—”
    Without a word, he crossed the distance between us.
    I felt his arms come around me, and I clung to him, shameless, my tirade forgotten. The twinned flames of our
diadh-anams
surged, and I thought the blaze must be visible to onlookers. I could feel people staring, could hear shocked whispers, but I didn’t care; and it appeared that Bao didn’t, either. Both of us were silent for a time. It seemed a moment too vast for words. At last, Bao pressed his cheek against my hair and spoke in a low voice. “Moirin, do you not understand that what I feel for you is so strong it terrifies me? It’s unnatural. I needed time to try and make sense of it.”
    “Yes,” I whispered against his bare shoulder. He smelled of clean sweat and his own underlying scent, like heated metal. “Believe me, I know. I feel it, too. But hiding from it will not make it go away.”
    He sighed. “No. I know.”
    I stole a glance at him. That was definitely tenderness lurking in the corners of his mouth, the hint of a reluctant smile. I lifted one hand to stroke the hard, chiseled line of his jaw. “Stupid boy.”
    “Stupid girl.” Bao lowered his head and kissed me.
    Higher and higher, the blaze within me climbed. Ah, gods! It was terrible and glorious all at once.
    I sank both hands into his hair, returning his kiss with ardor. The desire that had begun to rise with the coming of spring burst its last shackle. Naamah’s gift unfurled within me like an endless ribbon of gold, infusing every part of me. When Bao broke the kiss, I was dizzy and breathless with a need beyond longing.
    “Is there someplace—” I began to ask.
    Bao nodded, his eyes glittering. “Come with me.”
    He took my hand and I followed in his wake, half stumbling with the insistency of desire. I was vaguely aware of him ordering some fellow to secure my horse Ember, vaguely aware that the man obeyed with deference.
    With only a brief hesitation, Bao led me to a small
ger
. Unable to pay heed to aught but my own need, I didn’t hear what he said to its inhabitants, but whatever it was,