Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust Read Free Book Online

we’d…” He looked away, his cheeks coloring slightly. When he faced her again, his eyes gleamed with something that Soraya couldn’t recognize. “Do you see now why I recognized you? You’re my favorite story. I feel like I’ve known you for a long time.”
    Soraya drew in a breath, unable to speak. For the first time, she saw herself as Azad had imagined her—the heroine of a story, not the monster. It was only an illusion, of course, born from a young boy’s uninformed romantic dreams, but for the space of a breath, she let herself enjoy it.
    She didn’t want to tell him the truth. She wanted his version of her to keep existing, if only in his mind. And so she knew what she had to do.
    â€œWell, you did come to my rescue today, so now that you’ve lived out your dreams, I’ll be on my way.”
    His face fell at once, a wrinkle of dismay forming at the center of his forehead. “Is there anything I can say to persuade you to stay and talk with me for a little longer?”
    Soraya smiled sadly and shook her head. “Trust me. It’s better that we—”
    But before she finished speaking, a loud voice startled them both: “I thought I saw you in the crowd.”
    She and Azad both turned at once to see the approaching figure of Ramin. She took a hasty step away from Azad, but that only made her look guiltier.
    â€œIt’s reckless of you to be out on such a crowded day.” He looked at her with a significant arch of his eyebrow. “You’ve even made a new friend. Are you sure that’s wise?”
    All of Soraya’s muscles tightened at once. He wouldn’t dare tell Azad about her curse—to do so was to risk angering the royal family. Soraya was torn between the competing urges to shrink away, or step forward and show him she was unafraid. But her guilt from almost losing control the night before still lingered, and so Soraya simply said, “That’s none of your concern, Ramin.”
    But Ramin wasn’t even looking at her anymore—he was focused on Azad, who was standing stiffly, not moving or speaking. Ramin moved closer, coming to stand directly in front of him. Only then did Azad take a breath, his shoulders drawing back so that he was standing at his full height. There was a strange energy surrounding Azad, like clouds gathering before a storm, or the stillness of a snake about to strike. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
    â€œYou’re that villager we brought back,” Ramin said. He lifted his chin, his arms crossed, and nodded at Azad in approval. “Youproved yourself to us all that day, so let me give you some advice, from one soldier to another: stay away from this one.”
    Azad tilted his head slightly, his long neck moving with slow, deliberate grace. “I don’t think I need your advice,” he said.
    â€œRamin, this isn’t necessary,” Soraya interrupted, trying to keep her voice calm.
    Ramin looked directly at Soraya, disdain curling his lip, and said, “I don’t need to hear from you, Soraya. You’re not part of this conversation.”
    There was a sudden cracking sound—the snake had struck at last. Soraya barely even saw Azad’s fist move, but it must have, because now Ramin was sprawled on the grass, rubbing his jaw.
    And for the first time since Ramin had approached them, Azad looked away from him and turned to Soraya. “I’m sorry,” he said at once, but his eyes were still burning with anger, his hand still closed into a fist.
    Soraya felt that strange energy wrap around her now, the two of them practically trembling with it. And she realized that her hand was also a fist, like she had struck Ramin herself, like Azad had become an extension of her. He was the arm of her anger, lashing out when she could not. He was the force of her rage, unbound.
    She looked Azad in the eye and shook her head. “Don’t be,”