Rosewater Oasis the prince who ran away

Samir’s laughter rolled out low and dark. His gilded eyes met Hira’s defiant gaze without flinching, molten gold glinting with cruel satisfaction. She was a fool, as most were—a poor, ignorant woman grasping at a power she would never understand.

Her words were met with a sharp snap of his teeth, a rush of air brushing across her face, sweet and thick with Arslan’s scent. He was composed otherwise—a predator who had already decided the fate of his prey.

“I fear no man,” Samir laughed, menace in his golden tone. “Your babası may come if he wishes. Let him step onto these sands, and he will meet his fate beneath the wrath of Ra and the strength of the Kingdoms bound by the Divine Ones. I am blessed, Pharaoh of the Lotus Sands, born of godblood, and I do not bow to mortal threats.”

His tail flicked once behind him. Then, lashed.

“He shall go nowhere,” he spit, cutting. “You will not see him, nor speak to him, unless he chooses it. Should you try to defy me…”

His voice dropped lower, cold and venomous. “I will kill you swiftly and let your body bake beneath the sun until your babası finds what little remains of his insolent daughter. The sands do not mourn, nor do I.”