Page 76 of Rebel Fates

“I’m afraid of telling you.”

“Why?” He tilts his head. “Do you believe I will be jealous or angry? Because I won’t be. I understand that your desires for the Hathorans would be a normal reaction.”

“It’s notmynormal reaction.” I sigh and then go on. “I’m very confused about my feelings for the Hathorans. I don’t know what I want from them. But I’d like to make sure they survived the Tirb attack.”

Without another word, Crax abruptly stands up and leaves the room. The door snaps shut behind him.

Dammit, I think I just pissed off my ride.

I get out of bed and search the room for anything that might give me clues about Crax and what he wants from me. But the suite is mostly pillows and blankets, completely devoid of any personal belongings. I also notice he didn’t leave me any clothing, not even a flimsy nightgown.

I walk over to the closed door and press my ear to the cool, black metal. I can’t hear a damned thing.

The control panel is all black, and I can’t see any buttons. I touch it and nothing lights up. I press my entire palm over it. Aggravated, I slap the damn thing and then start punching at the panel—which only bloodies my knuckles.

Anger bubbles up inside of me. Every single hurt accumulated over my entire life rushes into my heart and painful memories flood my mind. I’ve never been this angry, even after all the shit I put up with from my family and my exes. Or maybe it’s all coming out now. It feels like I might explode and destroy the universe.

I rage, tearing up everything I see in the room.

Crax appears suddenly. Or suddenly to me. I probably wouldn’t have noticed him if he had been standing there during my entire outburst.

He grabs my upper arms to stop my wild, swinging punches. My vision turns red.

“Let me go!” I roar.

“No.” He presses me to his body in a tight embrace. My breathing is ragged. I’m confused and in shock. “You’re going to be okay.”

He doesn’t hit me. He doesn’t threaten me. I don’t know what to do with someone like him.

Instead of reacting as I expect, he just holds me, waiting for me to settle.

I calm in his arms and lean in to feel solid muscle under the cloak. He towers over me. But his disproportionate size doesn’t make me nervous. I feel safe now, cradled in his powerful arms.

When he feels the fight leave my body, he sweeps me up and carries me over to the bed. After he sets me down gently, I grab his cloak when he tries to pull away.

“Don’t go.” I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I went from not wanting to be touched to wanting nothing more than his touch. Any touch.

“Gemma,” he warns, but there isn’t much conviction in his tone. It’s the first time he has used my name. And I like the way it sounds.

He concedes and joins me on the bed and pulls me close. “Would you like to talk about what made you so distressed just now?”

“You must know why,” I murmur as I pluck at the material on his cloaking suit.

“I don’t.”

“You asked me what I wanted and then, without another word, you rushed out of here, upset at me for being honest.”

“Why do you think I was upset?” He really does seem perplexed.

“Uh… I…” I stutter and think back to what happened. He didn’t actually say anything, just left abruptly. “I suppose it was my assumption when you disappeared after I confessed I wanted to know if the guys were all right.”

He sits quietly for what seems like forever, and then concludes, “You’ve never really been free to tell the truth before. I’m sorry that I didn’t think of how you might perceive that action.”

I shrug and bury my face in his cloak, ashamed of my conditioning.

He strokes his gloved hand up and down my back. This is such an intimate moment, but it feels odd that he is covered when I am completely exposed. “I can be so focused on my goals that I’m unaware of others,” he confesses.

“So, you aren’t mad at me?” I ask.

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