TITLE: The City of Magi
GENRE: YA Historical Fantasy
My MC is a Persian hero in 530BC, and her love interest is a warrior named Darius (who later becomes king). In this scene, they are spies, hiding in the tent of an enemy queen.
I ought to have been rehearsing our plan, or resting to save up my strength, but my leg touching his felt like the most potent magic in the world, and I wished it meant something.
"You're shivering. Are you cold?"
My arms did tremble, but not because of cold.
"Perhaps I'm nervous," I whispered.
Darius pulled my shoulder against his ribs, wrapped his arm around me. It was anguish having him so close, wanting him so much closer. I fought to remember Jastan's warning—Darius could never feel about me what I felt for him.
Darius rested his cheek on my hair. Maybe, maybe, Jastan was wrong. I didn't dare to believe it, not until Darius tilted his face, touching his cheek against my forehead, not until his lips brushed mine.
He pulled away, gauged my reaction. My chest was caught up in a swell of breaths I couldn't exhale. I must not have worn my surprise, though, for Darius touched my jaw. With delicacy that belied his calloused fingers, he turned my face up to his. He closed his eyes, but I watched him, the long, curved brush of his eyelashes, the course, bronze skin of his cheek. Again our lips came together. He parted mine with his tongue, and I tensed. What was I meant to do?
When our lips separated, our foreheads touched. I wondered if I'd done it right. I would die if I'd disappointed him.
"I've been wanting to do that for some time," Darius said.
He smiled and went to kiss me again, but the light shifted. I pressed myself up against the side of the tent. Two people entered, a woman and a man. Perhaps Queen Tomyris had come at last.