Chapter Sixteen

Marik grabbed her and pulled her into him, hugging her tightly, like he was afraid that if he let her go she would just fade away. "Gods, are you all right?" he breathed into her ear.

"Marik, you're suffocating me."

"Sorry." He loosened his hold, but still gripped her firmly by the shoulders as he looked at her solemnly. "But are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She felt a little dizzy. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"

He pulled her back up against him, lowering his voice. "I'm worried, Samira. I… I'm afraid…" he sighed. "I'm afraid Kaiba might hurt you. He's even worse this time around-"

"No, he isn't," she snapped indignantly, as if he'd just insulted her. "You've got nothing to worry about. I'm perfectly fine." She tried to back away without much success.

Marik gently stroked the side of her face with two fingers, his other hand wrapped around her waist. "If you are hurt, I am here," he whispered. "I will let no harm come to you, my love."

Oh, dear, she thought detachedly as Marik cuddled her against his chest. She felt gratitude toward him for caring about her, but she really didn't love him. Like him as a friend, but not love him.

In the time before, it had been different…

In the time before, she had cared for him, but now… after so many years… why did she feel different?

And then she thought of what Ramla would say. Something about judgment, probably. About how Samira would snuggle up to any man without thinking twice. Ugh. The thought made her shiver, and anger rise in her blood. She pulled away from Marik, catching him off guard. "Samira, what-"

She backed away and found the wall. Cornered. "Marik," she began, sighing, "I think you should know that I-"

"Shhh," he said, pulling her toward him. Too close. Oh, no, he's going to kiss me!

"Marik, stop," said a new voice.

The wolf looked at them disdainfully. "You should be doing this in a somewhat more secluded area, not a public hallway, if at all. And I don't quite know why you are doing it anyhow, since she doesn't even love you."

Marik looked stricken. Samira sank to the floor, her legs suddenly not strong enough to support her.

"Marik… I'm so sorry…" she choked out, a sob threatening to strangle her voice. "I just don't… feel the way about you… that I used to…"

The mixture of pain and anger on Marik's face settled into an expression of complete shock.

Nobody said anything for a moment.

The wolf cleared her throat. "Having delivered this pleasant news, I think I shall depart," she said pointedly. And departed.

Samira suddenly found her intertwined fingers very interesting. Marik stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to the window, staring off into the blue sky. They were in a room like the meeting hall, with the outside wall entirely transparent.

"So you really… feel that way, huh?" he said quietly.

"Yes." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I should have known… I mean, it's been what, a couple thousand years?" He turned to look at her, and his grin faded quickly. "Samira, please don't cry." He came toward her, knelt in front of her, and brushed her tears away with one finger. "Hush now. Nobody wants to see you like this." He put an arm around her, tenderly this time. "It's going to be okay. I still like you, and we can be friends, right?"

Samira nodded, smiling a little.

"Ramla sure is a right little ray of sunshine, isn't she?" Marik said, shaking his head.

Samira shrugged. "I don't know why she's so blunt… She's not really a people person…"

"Maybe it's because she knows you're way hotter than she is," suggested Marik with a grin. Samira blushed but couldn't help smiling. "No really," he persisted. "About five or six of my pilots have asked me who the cute girl with golden eyes is."

"Really?" she asked in disbelief. "…Because right now I feel so… rotten…" Her face clouded again.

"Oh hush," Marik said, brushing the comment away. "You're too sweet to be mad at for more than a couple seconds anyway." He leaned forward before she could react, and lightly kissed her on the cheek.

Samira's face broke into a smile, like the sun breaking through a cloud. She hugged Marik, saying, "You're pretty sweet too, you know."

He gently lifted her to her feet. "Come with me to the control room," he urged. "We're due to land in an hour. You can catch the first glimpse of Egypt."

She nodded, brightening even more at the mention of Egypt. "Oh! I can't wait!" And took off down the hall.

"Samira! Wait up!" he called, laughing and running after her.

Her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing Egypt again. Egypt! Her beloved country, with the sparkling white sands, graceful palm trees and the shimmering blue ribbon of the Nile River that she missed so much.

She waited impatiently for Marik to catch up, then took his hand and dragged him down the corridor. "I've got to tell Seto!"

Marik's face darkened, but he said nothing and let Samira lead him to Kaiba's room.

"Seto! Hurry up! We're landing soon!"

The door opened. His mouth was open, ready to speak, but when he saw Marik, who was leaning against the doorframe, he quickly shut it again. His gaze shifted back to Samira. "Could you come inside a moment?"

Samira glanced at Marik, who shrugged grudgingly. She nodded and stepped into the room.

Seto wasted no time in shutting the door. "Why is Marik giving me all these dirty looks?" he demanded.

"Is that the only reason you wanted to talk to me?" she snapped back, equally hostile.

He sighed and glanced at the ceiling as if Samira were a hopeless case. "No, but him always ragging on me is really starting to get on my nerves."

To his surprise, Samira turned pink and looked at the floor.

"What?"

She shrugged and traced an invisible pattern with one foot, not meeting his gaze.

He tried his more assertive voice. "Samira, tell me right now. It shouldn't be that hard."

She mumbled something. Seto raised an eyebrow.

Samira looked up at him and said tearfully, "He- he thinks you're… hitting on me."

Seto's mouth dropped open. "He what?" Not waiting for an answer, he turned abruptly, muttering something angrily under his breath, and began to shove clothes into a knapsack. He was wearing the sturdier Egyptian desert clothes, the Millennium Rod tucked in his belt.

She perched on the bed, eyes cast downward. "I know you would never do that, Seto."

"The hell I wouldn't," he spat.

She let him stew for a moment and then said, "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

He straightened up and spun around, and there was real worry in his eyes. "Samira, I haven't been able to see Mokuba this whole trip. The doctors-" His voice broke, and he had to take a deep breath to keep going. "The doctors… wouldn't even let me in to see him! I don't even know if he's alive!"

"Oh, Seto…" said Samira sadly, her voice full of empathy, not pity. "Mokuba… was in a coma, because he lost too much blood-"

Seto swore vehemently and went for the door.

Samira dived in and blocked his path. There wasn't pain on Seto's face as much as there was seething, boiling anger. Anger at being denied the truth…

"Seto, listen to me," Samira said. "Mokuba is fine. He needs a few more days to recover, so he won't be coming with us on the journey, but he is in good hands in the ship's hospital. When we return, he will be fully healed."

"But why did no one tell me this before?" Seto snarled.

Samira regarded him calmly. "If you knew, you would have abandoned us."

He fell silent, knowing this was painfully true.

She moved forward a couple inches, and Seto jumped back like she was some kind of germ that he didn't want to catch.

Samira smiled wryly and turned to go. "You know Seto, if hugs killed people, you would die… really fast." And she left.