I hate it. I’d much rather be fighting with him than have this awkward politeness between us for one minute longer.
Maybe that’s why I choose this moment to say, “I’m going to call the Empress back and tell her I’ll come home.”
Chapter 65
Kali
He freezes in the act of running a hand over his hair. “No, you are not.”
I lift a brow. “Is that Ian the captain speaking or—”
“That’s the man you’re sleeping with speaking,” he growls. “And you don’t just get to walk away when things become a little uncomfortable for you.”
“I don’t know because I’ve never tried it, but I’m pretty sure dying is a lot uncomfortable, thank you very much. And I would prefer none of us do it for a very long time.”
Ian doesn’t look impressed. “And you expect me to believe that’s the reason you’re running away?”
“I’m not running away!” I tell him. “I’m leaving so that whoever’s trying to kill me will stop coming after the Starlight. You’ll be safe—all of you will be—and I’ll—”
“Be back home with Mommy?” he finishes. “And what if the person trying to kill you is at the palace?”
“Well, then, you’ll still be safe. And my mother may not be a good leader—” He snorts, but I ignore him and keep talking. “But there’s no way she’s going to let anyone kill the only heir to her throne. So I’m safer there than I am here. And you guys are much safer, too.”
“And that’s the only reason you want to go?” he asks again. “To protect us?”
“Of course. Why else would I want to leave? I love being on the Starlight.”
Ian folds his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Kali. Why else would you want to leave?”
“That’s what I’m asking you!” I tell him, exasperated.
But he doesn’t answer. He just continues to look at me with a blank face that really isn’t blank at all because it’s so freaking obnoxious. Part of me wants to say to hell with it and walk away right now, but I don’t. Because the longer I stare at him, the more I realize there is something there after all—a strange hurt buried so well in the depths of his eyes that I almost didn’t notice it.
But what does he have to be hurt about? I’m the one leaving the Starlight and the only real almost-friends I’ve ever had. He gets to stay here with everyone, and he and Max get to go after Milla and—
And it hits me. Why he’s so angry—and so hurt. “Oh, Ian.” I reach for him then, resting a hand on his biceps as I close the distance between us. “You can’t think it’s because of the gestalt.”
His ridiculously chiseled jaw clenches so tightly that I’m afraid he’s going to break a molar or three. “Pretty hard to think it’s anything else, considering you just found out about it and you can’t get off this ship fast enough.”
“I also just found out that I’m the target of the assassination attempts,” I say, exasperated. “Literally just minutes before I found out about you, Max, and Milla! So maybe you could cut me a little slack here, okay? I really am trying to do what’s best for everyone.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, but I can tell he’s thinking about it. Trying to weigh out if he wants to believe me or not. And maybe I’d be angry about that—I don’t lie, and I definitely don’t lie to him—except it’s so obviously coming from a place of his deepest insecurities that I can’t be mad.
“It doesn’t feel like it’s what’s best,” Ian finally says.
And he’s not wrong. Because it doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels awful and gross and like I’m making the worst mistake of my life even thinking about walking away from the Starlight. But I can’t think of anything else to do that will keep them safe from the Empire.
I don’t say that, though. I can’t. Not if I have any hope of getting through this conversation without crying. And not if I’m going to have a chance to prove to him that he has nothing to be insecure about.
It’s so strange to think of him like that—big, tough Ian who always has an answer and is happy to run over whoever he needs to to get his own way. But that’s only part of who he is—and I don’t mean the gestalt. I mean he’s also the guy who’s obviously spent a lifetime avoiding any kind of emotional intimacy with anyone but Max and Milla because he can’t imagine anyone accepting them for who they are.
Accepting him for who—and what—he is.
I’ve spent my life living that way, convinced that if anyone ever saw the small, simple human behind the princess, they’d be disappointed.
I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. And I definitely wouldn’t wish it on the man I’m starting to fall in—
I stop before I can even think such a thing. Because what’s the point of acknowledging it when it will only hurt more when I leave?
Instead, I concentrate on Ian. On the way he looks, all big and tough and sexier than he has any right to. And give myself permission to indulge one last time.
I have a few misgivings—the gestalt fascinates me, but it also makes me a little nervous—so I choose not to focus on it. I focus on Ian instead, just Ian, and not the sorrow that feels like a giant meteor in my stomach, weighing me down and burning me to a crisp all at the same time.
Stepping forward, I close the space he’s so carefully left between us. His dark eyes narrow, like he’s trying to figure out just what I’m up to, but I don’t bother to clue him in. He’s a smart guy. I’m pretty sure he’ll figure it out.
We’re so close that I can feel the heat emanating from him now, and it’s such a contrast to the cold that’s taken up residence deep inside me that I can’t resist it. Can’t resist him.
I reach out and press my hands to his chest, relishing the strength of Ian’s powerful muscles beneath my fingers. His eyes turn black, the pupils blowing out even before I move higher and dance my fingertips along his throat to play with the hair at the back of his neck. It’s cool and soft, and I love the way it slides against my skin.
I love even more the way his breath catches in his throat, his hot, hard body crowding against me as I cup the back of his head in my hands. I go up on tiptoes and slowly, carefully, pull his mouth down to mine.
Ian groans before our lips even touch—a dark, hungry sound that shoots straight through me as I close the very last of the distance between us. And then my lips are on his, his lips are on mine, and nothing has ever felt so good.
Like the twinkling lights that crowd the ceiling of my room back at home combined with the effervescence of the jelly beans he gave me back on Glacea.
I nip at his lower lip, and he groans again, deep in his throat this time. I take instant advantage, sucking his lower lip straight between my teeth. He stiffens for a second, and then a shudder runs through him and his arms snake around me.
He pulls me even closer, plastering our bodies together so I can feel all of him against all of me. He’s taking over now, his tongue stealing into my mouth to stroke against my teeth, my tongue, the roof of my mouth. Pleasure slams through me, frissons of need lighting me up from the inside.