​The door gave way with the faintest whisper, a sound swallowed instantly by the room beyond.

​James slipped through the gap, his pulse roaring a frantic counterpoint to the silence. The air was thick, heavy with the amber light of scattered candles and the hazy, intoxicating scent of frankincense, wine, and sweat.

​His eyes adjusted, and what he saw hollowed the breath from his chest.

​Mariam.

​What he saw wasn’t chaos; it was absolute control. Hers.

​The same woman who had once trembled under his authority now ruled the space like a queen on her throne. Her chin was tilted, her voice a low whisper that still carried through the...