21. Jafar
Jafar
W e make it to Balthazar’s house in record time, and even then, I know it’s not fast enough.
Hours have passed since Ali took Yasmina, hours in which he could have done anything to her.
He won’t have killed her, but that is the only thing I can guarantee.
Next to me, Jeremiah keeps a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as we take the winding curves leading to the house at reckless speed.
I can’t relax, can’t affect an unconcerned tone.
My ability to dissemble has disappeared alongside Yasmina.
“We do nothing to jeopardize her safety.”
He clears his throat. “That puts us at a disadvantage if he starts shooting the second we pull up to the house.”
“ Nothing , Jeremiah. That’s an order.”
It takes five minutes longer to reach the gate, and I spend the entirety of that time going over the different choices I could have made to prevent Yasmina from feeling like she had to run from me.
Fuck, how many times did I offer to get her out?
Rationally, I know that my giving her an out isn’t the same as her taking one for herself, but fear surpasses logic time and time again.
She’s in danger.
She’s suffering at Ali’s hands right now .
It’s my fault.
We stop in front of the gates, the trio of cars behind us falling in line.
It’s closed, barring access to the property, but I expected no less.
What I didn’t expect is Balthazar’s former head of security standing there with his arms crossed, his gun on full display, sweat dampening his brow as if he ran to get here ahead of us.
Henry didn’t make the jump with me, and last I heard, he wasn’t exactly pleased with Ali either.
Why the fuck is he here?
I ignore Jeremiah’s noise of warning and climb out of the car. I round the front but stop several yards away. “I’m here for Yasmina.”
Henry shakes his head slowly. “You made that play, and it was the wrong one.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Ali is making the same play.”
“Was.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” Henry is as implacable as ever despite breathing a little too hard to fully pull it off. “She wants to see you—just you and whoever is in the first car. If you cause trouble, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
I try to pick his words apart. Ali was making the same play, past tense.
She wants to see me? What the hell is going on?
I barely smother my need to pepper Henry with more questions.
He won’t answer me, and it might piss him off enough to refuse us access.
We can fight our way through the gate if we have to, but if there’s a chance to get through on peaceful terms, I have to take it.
“So be it.” I walk back to the car and climb inside. “Tell the others to wait here.”
Jeremiah gives me a look like I’ve lost my damn mind. Maybe I have. He finally says, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“No. But it’s the only option we have.”
Several long seconds later, the gates open, and Henry motions us forward.
I find myself holding my breath, but I can’t stop.
I dread whatever we’ll find in the massive sprawling house.
I should have protected Yasmina. My failure put her in this position, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to earn her forgiveness.
I have to make my peace with that, with the knowledge that I’ll mow down anyone who lays a hand on her. At least then I’ll know she’s safe.
Even if she’s no longer mine.
My chest feels too tight as we stop near the front door and head inside. With only Jeremiah as backup, I should be more concerned with my own skin. He’s good, but no one is that good. I’m not.
My world has boiled itself down to the necessities. Two words.
Find. Yasmina.
It turns out I don’t have to look hard. She’s standing on the staircase, her hair spilling around her shoulders, a bruise blossoming across the right side of her face.
Her dress might have started the day virginal white, but the bottom of it is the deep red of life’s blood, and it’s spattered across the front of the gown.
A glint of metal in her hand forms into the same blade she threatened me with the first night.
This is not a victim rushing to meet her savior. This is a queen considering whether to treat with an enemy.
Even though I’m conscious of men filtering into the room around us, I can’t take my eyes off her. “Ba—Yasmina.”
“Jafar.” Even her voice sounds stronger, fiercer. As if she’s found her footing and she no longer needs my assistance to stand tall.? 1 She studies me for a long moment. “Ali tried to take something I wasn’t willing to give, and he’s dead because of it.”
Ali is dead.
I don’t have to read between the lines to know that my baby girl killed him, likely with that damned letter opener she’s clinging so tightly to. Fuck, but I would have saved her from that if I could.
Even though I try to moderate my tone, my next words come out low and ragged. “I’m sorry.”
She lifts the knife to examine, the blade glinting in the light.
“I’ve decided that I’m done being a pawn.
My father may not have considered me his heir, but I am his heir in truth.
His people— my people—have accepted that.
The only question that remains is whether you will bend the knee and come back into the fold. Or if you’ll choose exile.”
Exile.
She’s not bluffing. If I can’t accept her as queen, if I try to force her back into the box she’s lived in for her whole life, then she’ll drive me out. It might break her heart to do it, but she loves her freedom more than she cares about me.? 2
I don’t fault her for it. How can I?
Pledging myself to another ruler was never part of my plan.
If someone asked me yesterday if I’d consider it, I would have laughed them out of the room.
But this isn’t just another ruler. This is Yasmina.
If I cling to my pride, I will lose her, and my instincts say I won’t get another chance.
This isn’t something I can override with lust and dominance to get her to bend to my will.
She’s drawn a line in the sand, and I can step to it or I can get the fuck out.
In the end, it’s no choice at all. Not when I can still taste the fear and desperation at the back of my throat.
The certainty that I’d lost her forever.
What is a kingdom without a queen? I always intended for her to be by my side.
It may not have looked like this , but does it matter?
I’ll have the territory, and I’ll have Yasmina, too.
Not as a submissive. As a full partner.
Slowly, so slowly, I go to one knee at the bottom of the stairs. “My queen.” I can feel Jeremiah behind me following my motion, repeating my words.
Yasmina nods slowly. “Good.” She shifts her gaze to Jeremiah. “Inform the rest of his men. Jafar, with me.” She turns and starts back up the stairs.
I follow, matching her pace and maintaining the distance between us.
Unexpected pride warms me, pulling at the edges of my lips.
Damn, but she never ceases to surprise me.
In all the scenarios I tortured myself with on the trip from the city to this place, I never once considered that she would turn the tables on Ali, that she would step into a leadership role and claim it as her rightful place as heir.
More the fool I am. Ali underestimated her, but I have, too.
Something I suspect I’ll be making up to her for a long time.
If she’ll allow it.
She leads the way to her room. I close the door softly behind us and wait. As much as I want to go to her, to run my hands over her body to ensure she’s not hiding more injuries, to demand answers I don’t have the right to. Really, there’s only one thing to say. “I’m sorry.”
Yasmina sets her knife on the desk and turns to face me. “I killed Ali.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “You shouldn’t have had to do that.” I should have handled it before he ever got close enough to become a danger to her.
“He didn’t hurt me.” She absently touches her face. “Except for this.”
I want to bring that fool back from the dead and kill him again for laying a hand on her. Saying so won’t do a damn thing but cloud the room with my anger. “You took your father’s place.”
“Yes. I did.”
I hate this. We’ve been many things with each other but never stilted and unsure. I run my hands through my hair. “I’ll honor my pledge, Yasmina. You have no reason to trust that, but I will.”
“I know.” She fists the fabric of her dress and seems to force herself to relax.
Finally, she lifts her chin and pins me with a fierce look.
“I’ll be your equal, or we’ll be nothing.
Do you understand me? Just because I love you doesn’t mean that I’ll sit at your feet ever again.
” The slightest of hesitations. “At least not outside the privacy of our bedroom.”
Something like hope flares in my chest, the sweep of it through my body leaving me dizzy. “You love me.”
“Of course I love you, you fool.” She takes a step and then another, moving slowly to place her hands on my chest. “I understand what you were trying to do with me, but I can’t live on someone else’s terms any longer.
I have to fly or dash myself on the rocks below, but it has to be my choice. Can you live with that?”
I reach up and run my finger along her jaw, careful to avoid the bruise. “Out there, I’ll be your right hand.”
“Yes.” No hesitation. Just a calm agreement.
“In here?”
She smiles slowly. “In here, I’m your baby girl.” The smile fades. “Can you live with that?” she asks again.
“Marry me.”
Yasmina leans into my touch. “Ask me again in a year, when I’ve solidified my place at the head of this beast. Then we’ll see.”
It’s not a yes, but I’m strangely okay with that. Even if she never wears my ring on her finger, she’s mine in every way that counts.
And I’m hers.