Her face fell. “Then I could do something else for you. What about baking?”
I tempered my growing amusement. “We have cooks and bakers. As tasty as your bread was, I am not sure if I would trust you not to attempt to poison me.”
Her mouth fell open. “I would never…” Then her words trailed off, as if she hadn’t considered poisoning me but was now.
“The deal has already been made, little rebel. You have secured your colony’s safety, as well as your sisters’, and bought them Vandar protection.”
“I didn’t agree to any deal,” she snapped.
I reached out, cupping her chin in one hand and tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet my gaze. Her skin was soft and warm beneath my palm. She tried to jerk her head away, but I kept a firm hold. “No, you didn’t. But you are here nonetheless.”
“Not willingly,” she spat.
I studied her defiant expression. “If you do not wish to be my willing guest, we can make other arrangements.”
"You mean you can throw me in a cell?" Her voice trembled slightly, though whether from fear or fury I couldn't tell.
I slid my other hand through her hair, feeling the silky strands catch against my calloused fingers. I held the back of her head gently, tipping it back to expose even more of her lush throat to me and fighting the urge to savage it. “You look at me like I’m a monster. Good. Monsters do not relinquish what is theirs.”
Her pupils flared wide, and I dragged one rough thumb across her lower lip. “Like it or not, you belong to me now. If I’m not the hero of your story, I’m happy being the villain who saved you anyway. And for now, sharing quarters with the Vandar you despise is punishment enough."
Then I released her and turned away, forcing myself to walk toward the door with sure steps when every instinct I had screamed at me to stay and to kiss her until her defiant fury transformed into something else entirely.
But I didn't.
My heart pounded as I strode through the doorway, the door sliding shut behind me with a soft hiss. Then I stood in the corridor, breathing harder than I should have been, trying to regain the control I'd nearly lost.
Touching her had been a mistake. Feeling the warmth of her skin, the softness of her hair, and the haphazard beat of her pulse had made the wanting sharper and more impossible toignore. And keeping her in my quarters? That was possibly the worst tactical decision since I’d been named Raas.
Before I could turn around and do something even more foolish, a ship wide siren blared. My fingers tingled as I remembered the Imperial convoy and the planned raid.
I blew out a relieved breath. That's what I should be focusing on. Straightening my shoulders, I broke into a jog across a walkway toward the hangar bay, grateful that raiding an Imperial convoy would be easier than facing off against a female.
Chapter 13
Jasmine
The moment the door slid shut behind him, I started shaking. My hands trembled as I lifted them to my face, touching the skin where his rough fingers had gripped my chin. The spot felt scorched, like his touch had left a physical mark. My cheeks burned with frustration and something darker, more complicated.
I should be planning ways to kill him. I should be thinking about weapons, vulnerabilities, and escape routes. I should be doing anything except replaying the moment his hand had cupped my face, the way his fingers had threaded through my hair with surprising gentleness, and the heat of his gaze as it had seared into mine.
"Stop it," I scolded myself, jerking to my feet.
My attempts to negotiate had gone badly. Had I truly believed a Vandar horde would welcome the skills of a human rebel? Besides, what did I know aside from how to sabotage Imperial soldiers on my own planet? I knew nothing of space battles or the type of strategy they employed. And offering to bake in theship’s kitchens? I must have been delusional to think that the warlord wanted me for anything but what he’d said.
He took me as a war bride. He didn’t need me to bake or help them fight the Zagrath. He didn’t want that. No, he wanted something else, and I knew now there was no reasoning with him to release me.
I started walking the room again, this time with more purpose. Maybe there was a way out. Some weakness in the fortress of a suite that I could exploit.
I went to the door first, pressing my palm against the smooth surface the way I'd seen the Vandar do when they wanted to open a door. Nothing. I tried both hands, pressing harder. Still nothing. The door remained obstinately shut.
I dropped to my knees, wedging my fingers into the thin seam where the door met the frame, and pulled. The metal was cold and unyielding, refusing to budge even a millimeter.
Defeated, I abandoned the door and moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I knew enough about physics not to be foolish enough to break the window. Even if I could find something strong enough to shatter whatever doubtlessly impenetrable material it was made from, I’d just get sucked out into space. Instant death wasn't on my agenda, no matter how desperate I felt.
I returned to my chair at the dining table, the fight draining from me all at once. Was I truly fooling myself in thinking escaping his room would mean escaping him? Even if I somehow found a way out of the room, I was still trapped on the warbird. Not only was I trapped in a warlord's quarters on a ship flying away from everything I knew, but I hadn't been as clever as I thought.
The Empire had known. They’d identified me as the leader of the underground resistance, and they’d been planning to take me into custody. I had no reason to doubt the Raas. How else would he know about my underground rebellion? But that raised the bigger question. How had the Empire found out enough to target me with execution?
