Chapter 35 Ali Ahmed Ibrahim's Half-Brother?

Abdullah glanced away from Queen Amira, his gaze distant, unfocused. He’d said before he’d tell her his side of the story when she was ready to listen, and here she was—ready.

The trouble was, he wasn’t.

‘Abdullah,’ Amira said softly. His name sounded right on her lips in a way that made everything in Abdullah both want and rebel.

What was he doing? How had he got to this place, with this woman? It had started, perhaps, from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. When, in what could be considered courage or folly or both, she’d attempted to escape. When he’d seen both fear and pride in her eyes and known exactly how she’d felt.

When he’d held her in his arms she’d curled into him, seeking the solace that he’d freely, gladly, given.

And now she wanted more. Now she wanted the truth, which he’d told her he would tell her, except now that she’d asked he felt wary, reluctant, afraid. What if she didn’t believe him? What if she did?

Finally, Abdullah spoke. ‘My mother,’ he said slowly, ‘w