Page 4 - My FlipBook

e l izab eth t ammi

they were starting to crinkle at the edges as he closed
the distance between himself and Fressa. Lena rolled

her eyes. She’d seen this scene unfold too many times.
“I’m begging you not to go any further,” she said.
Fressa shot her a quick glare over her shoulder.
“Begging,” Lena cried.
Mercifully, Amal held up his hands in surrender
and took two generous steps away from Fressa. Lena
laughed. The truth—which she could never tell them,
or she would face eternal embarrassment—was that she
thought they were probably the most perfect example

of love anywhere in the nine worlds. Fressa and Lena
had never known a time without Amal. He’d been an
orphaned newborn when their father had brought him
home from a trading trip to Baghdad just a year after
Lena was born, and Amal had been eagerly adopted by
Nana, their clan’s apothecary. He was close to both Lena
and her sister, but recently, Fressa’s affections for him

had evolved into something decidedly romantic, and he
wasn’t far behind.
Lena found the whole development to be an inev-
itable surprise—strange only in that she had not seen
it coming. She’d never viewed Amal as anything but a
brother, which was lucky for her, because after his and
Fressa’s wedding that’s exactly what he would become.
“Why don’t you try?” Fressa asked, holding out her
axe.

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