I expect a challenge in the question, a prideful assertion of a truth we both know. Of course he’s never done anything to me that I didn’t want. I’ve desired Jafar ever since I set eyes on him, first because he was forbidden to me and, later, because I like the way I spark to life when he’s near. Our verbal sparring sessions were the highlight of my life, a few short minutes where I felt like a real person and not simply a golem, going through the motions at someone else’s command.
Except that’s not what I see in his expression.
He looks almost sick.
“I’ve wanted it. All of it. More.” Words to damn me. Words to pass him all the power and leave me quivering at his feet. How am I supposed to walk away from this man when his key turns my lock in a way I’ve only ever read about? If my books are to be believed, this kind of connection comes around once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky. What kind of fool would I be to run from that?
One who wants to be free.
Jafar nods slowly. “To the original topic—I couldn’t let him get his hands on you, so I moved the timeline.”
I’m not naive enough to think that he did it solely for me. He’s told me as much. It doesn’t change the fact that my safety has never been a priority for anyone. Oh, the safety of my body to keep my father’s prized possession in peak condition and unmarred? Yes, that mattered. But that’s not what Jafar is talking about. Not bruises and cuts and things that will heal given enough time.
He’s talking about wounds that will scar even if no one can see evidence of them on my skin.
I sip my wine. “Thank you?”
“Don’t thank me. If I had half a conscience, I wouldn’t have taken you.”
And then Ali would have tracked me down and brought me back. That’s the truth, one we’ve discussed between us. I don’t understand why he’s conveniently forgetting it now, why he’s chosen to flog himself with our situation. I frown. “What happened this weekend?” This is the moment, the precipice, the point of no return where he’ll let me in or he’ll keep me walled up in this penthouse in the name of safety. I hold my breath and wait.
Jafar picks up his wine glass again. “Have you thought about starting school?”
It takes every skill I possess to keep my expression placid despite the dizzying feeling of being dashed to pieces. Jafar cares about me. Even if he’s a cold bastard, I’ve never really doubted that. But he doesn’t see me as capable, not really. I’m a valued possession, a pet who needs careful care taking in order to thrive. I’m not strong enough to be equal to him.
If I stay here, I never will be.
Chapter 16
Jafar
Something’s changed, and I can’t put my finger on what. It doesn’t help that I’m distracted over this clusterfuck of a weekend. Six of my men are gone, disappeared as if they never existed, and I have only Ali to blame. He’s not scared of the force I can bring against him, and he’s not in the wind like I first thought. If anything, getting access to Jasmine at The Underworld emboldened him. He’ll keep striking until I put him down, but I can’t fucking find him to remove the threat he represents.
When Jasmine doesn’t answer, I prod her again. “School?”
“Oh.” She examines her wine glass. “I suppose I’d like to college, but I haven’t put much thought into it.”
She’s not telling me the truth. I can see it in the way her eyes drop, in the nervous twitch of her fingers against the counter. She told no lies when she said she’s wanted everything I’ve given her and more, but she’s lying now.
“I find that hard to believe.” I keep my voice mild. “The entire time I’ve known you, you’ve had your face pressed against the bars of your cage and your eyes on the future. Don’t tell me that plan didn’t include college.”
Jasmine gives me a brittle smile. “When would I have gone to college, Jafar? When I married some man like Ali? Future plans aren’t for people like me. I’m a pawn in a larger game. I always have been.”
Who is this woman? Where is the fire that seems ready to burst from her skin normally? I lean back and cross my arms over my chest. “You’re going to college.”
The look she gives me can only be described as withering. “That’s not your decision to make.”
“I think you’ll find that it is.” I don’t know why she’s resisting, but it doesn’t make a difference. No matter what Jasmine thinks of me, I have no plans to keep her walled up in this tower indefinitely. It’s not reasonable. Beyond that, it makes me look weak as fuck to have to lock my woman away in order to protect her. She might not see herself as mine, but everyone else does.