I took a deep breath in as my arms tingled beneath the long sleeves of my dress. My black hair fell around me in waves as two men dragged me down the ornate hall.
“What have you done with my brother?” I demanded, trying to look behind me for Sayf.
“You are the bride of the king now! He will be given all the riches he could desire.” The man on my right laughed, baring his yellow teeth.
“I do not wish to be the bride of any man!” I jerked, attempting to free myself without pushing the sleeves of my dress up.
The taller man scoffed. “Foolish woman, you know not what you want.”
White-hot anger rushed through me. Taking a steadying breath, I focused on the soft pulsing of my heart, tuning out the world around me.
Suddenly, I was shoved through a doorway, breaking me out of my reverie. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind me, and I flinched.
The room I was taken to was beautiful. The back wall was composed of seven archways that led out onto an open air balcony. I wonder how high off the ground we are.
Under the middle arch was the king. He was dressed in fine purple silk robes as he sprawled out lazily in his ornate chair.
A long red carpet led from under my feet up to him.
“They tell me you are called Amira,” he spoke, his voice full of ash and lecher. I shuddered, pressing my back against the door. “Do not be afraid, I shall treat you well.”
“I am humbled by your offer,” the words sounded false even to me, “but I’m afraid I must decline.”
His eyes narrowed. “You can’t refuse a royal decree. I have bought you from your brother. You will become my forty-third concubine.” The king rose from his chair.
Even from here I could see the indignation painted across his face.
I need to get free. I twisted my hands in the bindings, trying to slip a hand out.
“Submit to me, Amira.”
“Never.” I kept my eyes trained on him as he stalked closer.
“You will do as I command!” Rage coursed through him as I finally managed to free my left arm.
“No! You will stop there if you value your head.” My words were absolute and chilling as I slid my thumb under my sleeve, tracing the hidden patterns that danced across my skin.
For a moment, he froze in shock before regaining his composure. “You stupid bi—”
“Zeev!” I called, letting my emotions flow through me.
The room suddenly grew darker as the air turned to ice.
“Wh-what?” the king sputtered. “What are you?”
“You shall pay for your sins, my king,” I mocked. I glanced just over his right shoulder.
“You witch!” His eyes burned angrily as he stepped forward.
“You’re right for a change.” I pushed my sleeves up, displaying the swirls of colorful ink that covered them. “I thought I told you not to move any closer.”
“I—” he began, but a snarl behind him cut him off. His eyes widened, terrified.
“Did you know that witches have familiars?” I asked as I traced a specific sigil on the inside of my left wrist. “Zeev is sworn to protect me against any harm that should befall me.”
The king turned slowly only to see the gray wolf lurking behind him. “N-no…”
I slid my fingers over a spot of black ink on my right shoulder. “You will pay for the heinous crimes you have committed against women and your own people.”
“No!” he screamed as Zeev leaped forward, knocking him to the ground. Her teeth clenched around his throat, but I paused.
“Make it look like an accident,” I commanded as I muttered a few words in prayer.
Zeev released the king, but not before one of her teeth broke skin, leaving a tiny sliver of blood on his neck.
“You will be dead before the sun sets,” I promised as I stepped over his shocked frame on the way to the terrace. I ran my fingers through Zeev’s hair, scratching fondly behind her ear. “If you release all of your concubines, it won’t be agonizing.”
“It shall be done! Anythi—”
“No amount of begging will save you. Your judgment day has come.” I didn’t bother looking back before I leaped out of the window.
Author's Note: I had a really fun time coming up with and writing this idea. In the original story, Abraham tries to smuggle his wife, Sarah, into the country, but the king finds her and is enraptured by her beauty. They lie about being siblings but pray fervently to be saved. The result of their prayers is this spirit-like thing that tortments the king when he tries to get close to Sarah. He lets her go free, and she rejoins her husband.
In my story, I decided to actually make them siblings and to switch their names some. I swapped their starting letters and then tried to pick Arabic names that suited them. I have been reading a lot of stories with magical tattoos lately, so that is how I made Amira control Zeev. I changed Zeev into an actual wolf and made the king pay for his sins.
Bibliography: "The Higgledy-Piggledy Palace" by Gertrude Landa.
Image Information: "Arabian Wolf in Jordan" by Ahmad Qarmish.
