His gaze snapped wide, his big body tensing. “Why not?”
Jenna stared back at him, nausea churning within her now. Finally, they’d gotten to it: the reason she’d called him up to the viewing deck. She’d felt brave earlier, still pumped with adrenalin after their escape from Melor. Now though, all she felt was dread and a twisting grief under her breastbone that wasn’t just to do with her brother’s loss.
She was about to lose someone else—someone she’d waited her life to find, someone that was never meant to be hers.
Malik Mir-Draven.
Dragging in another deep breath, she held his eye, even as sweat beaded upon her forehead. “The closeness we formed on the way back to Idral can’t continue,” she replied softly. “I’m discharging you from duty, Captain. From this moment forward, you no longer serve my family.”
33. THE CHOICE IS YOURS
IT WAS AS if she’d just punched the air from his lungs.
Reeling, Malik searched Jenna’s face, trying to see past that icy veneer she was wearing.
Ever since she’d set foot onTheStar Tempest, it was as if they’d stepped back in time.
To how things had been before that fateful diplomatic mission.
He hated it: the cold formality, the distance.
It reminded him of all the years he’d observed Jenna from afar, wanting her but refusing to admit it to himself. Instead, he wanted to see her vulnerability, her passion. The woman behind that mask was warm and sensual, yet you’d never know it to look at her now.
Jenna held her chin high, and despite that she wore cargos and a filthy tank top, she still managed to look haughty, aristocratic.
She was reminding him of the chasm between them. She was of the ruling class, and he from the gutter.
And now she was firing him.
“Good,” he growled after a few seconds.
A nerve flickered in Jenna’s cheek. She hadn’t expected that reaction. “You’re happy about it?”
“Yes.” He took a bold step forward, stopping when less than a foot separated them. “If I’m not captain of your guard, I’m a free man. Your equal.”
She stared up at him, her deep-brown eyes widening. “You were always that,” she whispered.
Malik fought a lip curl. “No, I wasn’t … I was a servant, bound by an oath you’ve just released me from.”
He stepped closer still and leaned in, placing a hand on the tempered glass next to Jenna’s shoulder. It was ice-cold against his palm. The move was a dominant one, but he didn’t care. He was sick of keeping his feelings leashed, of pretending nothing mattered—when the truth was, it did.
Jenna mattered more than anything, and he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight.
“But now I’m just a man,” he continued roughly. “One who will stand at your side, if you’ll let me.”
Jenna jolted as if he’d just struck her, her full lips parting. “What?” she whispered.
“I’ll be your husband if you wish it … or your lover, if you don’t,” he ground out, his throat tightening as emotion threatened to choke him. “But be certain of one thing, Jen … I love you … and I’d lay down my life to prove it.”
Their gazes fused and held, and for a few moments, the universe narrowed to just this one point.
Malik was keenly aware of the hard thud of his heart against his ribs as he awaited her answer.
“You love me?” she whispered eventually, her chest rising and falling sharply now.
Finally, the façade was crumbling.
Malik fought the urge to reach for her. “Yes,” he answered softly. “Discharge me from duty Jen … I’ll step down willingly … but don’t send me from your side. You are the only thing in this universe that I want.”
