Sheikh's Baby Of Revenge

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u71816905-aff9-51b7-8f02-98ab8da7643a)

“I’M ADIR AL-ZABAH, Your Highness, Sheikh of the Dawab and Peshani tribes.”

He had no respect for the old king, for a man who subjugated and forced a woman—a weaker being—to bend to his will.

But Adir added a half bow to his greeting. Savage though he might be in comparison to the royal siblings Princes Zufar and Malak and Princess Galila, he knew customs and traditions.

Adir Al-Zabah stared at King Tariq of Khalia, watching like a hawk that soared the vast expanse of his desert abode, waiting for a flicker of recognition in the sorrow-filled eyes.

It was sorrow he recognized, wretched and absolute—something he had spied in his own reflection since he had heard the news of Queen Namani’s death.

The genuine quality of it shocked him—one glimpse into King Tariq’s eyes was enough to understand that he had loved his wife.

Any sympathy Adir might have felt died under the resentment festering in his veins. He himself had not even been granted the right to mourn her publicly, the opportunity to honor her with the last rites.

He’d been denied the chance to set eyes on her even once in his life.

His last blood connection, gone in the flicker of a sunset. There would be no more letters telling him he was cherished, reminding him of the place he had left unclaimed for so long.

He was finally, completely alone in the world.

And all because of this king.

While King Tariq stared back at him with confusion clouding his eyes, one of the princes moved forward, blocking the sight of the old king’s bowed form, as if to shield the pitiful sight of his father from Adir’s eyes.

“I’m Crown Prince Zufar. If you have come to pay your final respects to Queen Namani, to pledge your allegiance to King Tariq—” Zufar’s words were filled with a resentment that mirrored Adir’s own, making Adir frown “—then consider it acknowledged.”

Adir gritted his teeth. “I am the ruling Sheikh of the Dawab and Peshani tribes. We’re independent tribes, Your Highness.” He injected every ounce of mockery he felt into that address. “I do not acknowledge your or your king’s authority over our tribes. Our way of living knows no liege.”

Something almost like admiration glinted in Prince Zufar’s eyes. Gone in the blink of an eye, it left Adir to wonder if he had only imagined it. Was he that desperate for a familial connection?

“This is a private time of mourning for the royal family. If you’re not here to pay your respects, why did you request an audience with my father?”

Having to go through this man who had everything Adir had been denied grated like the rub of sand on an open wound. “It is the king’s company I requested. Not yours.”

Satisfaction glinted in Zufar’s eyes, satisfaction that he had the right to deny Adir this. Or anything he could ask for. “My father is...swimming in his grief over his queen’s death.”

His queen’s death, not my mother’s death, thought Adir. The crown prince’s words were revealing.

There was no...grief in the prince’s eyes for his mother’s death, unlike in his father’s. No tenderness when he spoke of her. “He has not been in his right mind for several...months now.”

Adir tilted his head in the direction of Prince Malak and Princess Galila. He didn’t want to feel pity, he didn’t want to consider the fragility of their feelings so soon after their mother’s death. And yet he found himself doing just that. “You would have me open a cupboard full of skeletons in front of your younger siblings?” he added silkily.

Zufar paled under his dark, olive skin. Not that his arrogance dimmed even a bit. “Threats will get you nowhere, Sheikh Adir.”

“So be it. I’m your... I’m Queen Namani’s son.”

The statement he had repeated so many times to himself, in his own head, now reverberated in the chilling silence that ensued. A soft gasp emerged from the princess’s mouth while Prince Malak scowled.

The antagonism in Zufar’s eyes multiplied a thousand fold, roped with disbelief and a flash of fleeting pain.

Adir shifted his feet to gain a glimpse of King Tariq. His shoulders bowed, the old man stared at Adir searchingly. As if he could find a glimpse of his beloved wife, Adir realized with a frown. “Namani’s son? But—”

“Do not deny it, Your Highness. The truth shines in your eyes.”

Accusation painted every tense line of Zufar’s body. “Father?”

But King Tariq couldn’t shift his gaze from Adir. “You’re Namani’s son? The child she—”

“The newborn you banished to the vagaries of the desert, yes. The child you separated from its mother.”

“You’re our brother?” Princess Galila interjected. “But why—”

“Namani...she had an affair...” King Tariq stuttered.

“She fell in love with another man and was punished for it.” Adir didn’t pull his punches.

The king’s face crumpled.

“And what is it that you want, on the eve of her death, Sheikh Adir?” Prince Zufar said coldly.

“I want what my mother wanted for me.”

“How would you know what Queen Namani...what she wanted for you if you’ve never met her?” Princess Galila asked, her tone feather-soft.

“She was forced to give me up but she did not abandon me.”

Prince Malak who had been calmly watching the proceedings until now moved to stand beside his father. “What do you mean, she did not abandon you?” A caustic laugh fell from his mouth. “What is it that the queen gave you that makes you talk of her as if you knew her?”

His gaze swept over the royal siblings and Adir frowned. He was missing something. They did not pounce to defend their mother’s memory. No other interest showed on their faces except the shadow of fear about what he would ask.

“I did know her. Somehow, she found a way to keep in touch with me. She wrote me over the years, encouraged me to rise in the world. Told me how much she...cared for me. Told me what my place is in this world. It is proof enough,” Adir replied, choosing his words with cutting precision. “Every year on my birthday, she wrote letters and made sure they reached me. Letters telling me who I was.”

“She wrote to you? The queen?”

“By her own hand.”

“What do you want, Sheikh Adir? Why are you here?”

Adir faced Prince Zufar, determination running in his veins. “I want the king’s acknowledgment that I’m Queen Namani’s son. I want the world to know that I’m royal-born. I want my rightful place in Khalia’s lineage.”

“No.” Zufar’s tone rang out before Adir had barely finished. “All it will cause is a scandal.”

He glanced at his father’s form, his faraway gaze. Despite himself, Adir felt a stirring of pity for the old king. It was clear that he mourned his queen with all his heart.