Chapter 17
Mara went straight to Khan's room after leaving E-Level, but he wasn't there. So she checked the only other place she knew he found peaceful—the gardens.
She could see him from inside—he was kneeling in a kind of meditation next to the fountain, his eyes closed and turned toward the sun. Mara watched him for a moment, watched him simply breathe, his fists clenched so tight the knuckles turned white, and decided to let him be. Sometimes solitude was the best company.
She found herself back in her stateroom after that, realizing that her hands were shaking from the adrenaline of being in a room with a near-firefight. She set her bag on the floor, slowly running her hand through her red-brunette hair anxiously as she considered the situation.
How would Pierce react? Would he let Khan get away with that? He had let him get away with nearly crippling Jonathan Harris because he was proud to show off Khan's strength. But this… this, he had done in front of not one, but two company Chairs. Pierce was just as much of an alpha as Khan, just in a different way. And Pierce did not like being belittled.
Just as Mara's nerves began to settle, there was a hard, rapid knock on her door. She jumped, letting out a yelp, then laughed at herself as she went to answer it.
"Yes?" she asked as she pulled the door open, but she was quickly cut off.
Before she knew what was happening, he was rushing in to her stateroom, slamming his body against hers and pinning her against the wall. She yelped as she hit the wall, his form trapping her there. He kissed her hard and vicious, his lips crashing against hers with painful force.
"Khan?!" she gasped against him, trying to pull back but only managing to redirect his lips to her jawline and neck. "What are you… you can't be up he…"
With brutal force, he pulled back, taking both her wrists and slamming them against the wall above her head. He hung over her in a very threatening way, gritting his teeth in anger and hovering inches from her lips.
"Please, Mara, if you know what's good for you, don't ever tell me what I can and cannot do," he growled, obvious rage in his voice.
"Okay," she said gently, softening her face. "I only meant that I didn't think you could get up here."
He stared at her for a moment, and she could tell that his anger was dying.
"Khan… you're hurting me," she begged, her wrists feeling as if two Ram trucks were resting on them.
He looked up at her wrists, quickly leaning back and releasing her. He turned away, his anger turning to shame as he buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice muffled by his palms. He began pacing the length of her stateroom, his hands trembling quite badly with anger, or anxiety… or both.
"Khan, what's wrong?" she asked, following him down the length of the room and stopping his pacing by wrapping her arms around his waist. From this, she could tell that his entire body was tense and shaking with rage.
"Something's wrong, and it has been for days," she continued, holding him tightly and resting her head against him. "First the question about your soul, now this."
He made an effort to calm himself by taking a deep breath, and he shuddered as he did so. Mara couldn't recall ever being that mad in her life.
His hands slowly found her back, and he rested his chin on the top of her head.
"Of all the familiar places…" he murmured, pulling her tighter, like there was no degree of closeness that would be enough.
"What?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Nothing, it's just a… nothing," he said, his body finally relaxing. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I'm sorry Pierce asked that of you," she said, and she felt a tenseness rise in his arms again.
He held her closer, one hand running up and down the skin of her left arm. "If you knew this to be your last night on this Earth… how would you spend it? Would it be with me?" he asked sullenly.
When she pulled back to object, he continued.
"Am I simply convenient? Or am I more?" he asked, staring her down like he had Pierce.
"Okay, I don't know why you would ask me 'if it was my last night,' but know this; you have always been more. You are stronger. You are smarter…"
She could tell this was not the answer he was looking for, so she hurried to her punch line.
"And you mean more to me than anyone," she said, raising a hand to brush it through his hair.
"Say it, then," he demanded, his hands forming fists in her shirt at the small of her back.
She hesitated, not because it wasn't true, but because she feared what it would unleash in him.
"Say it," he growled. He looked about ready to toss her to the ground like he had Harris. Like, if she didn't say it, the other Khan would come back out.
"I love you, Khan," she whispered, staring up at his predator's eyes.
As soon as the words left her mouth, he violently lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist and carrying her to her bed. He collapsed on top of her, attacking her in every possible way. He didn't even bother with the buttons on her shirt, he simply ripped it from neck to naval.
His ferocity scared her, but she couldn't stop him… wouldn't. She grabbed a handful of his hair, as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling over a great cliff. She panted against him, whimpering as he tore at the rest of her clothes.
He pulled his own shirt off as quickly as he could, his hands shaking as he went for his belt buckle.
She knew he was angry, and that he would probably hurt her. She embraced this realization, yanking him back down on top of her by his hair.