Page 81 of Starfighter’s Salvation

The room was lit only by the faint glow of night activated floor lights. Corvan lay on his back, one arm around me, staring up at nothing. His other hand was curled against his chest so tightly the old scar over his knuckles had gone white, and everything in me that had spent a career reading bodies for pain went quietly on alert.

“Hey,” I whispered. "Are you in pain? Do you need something? I can get⁠—"

"No." He didn't try to pretend he had been asleep. “I'm sorry I woke you.”

“You had a nightmare.”

“I am fine.”

I rolled onto one elbow and looked down into the handsome face I adored with my whole heart and wanted to shake some sense into him. “You know I can hear you telling that lie in my sleep now, right?”

He gave a small, humorless breath. “It's not a lie. I am fine. I am alive. I have you. My body is healing. I am fine.”

For a moment I waited. Patients, lovers, frightened people — all of them needed time to get their thoughts, and words, in order. I wanted him to tell me about his nightmares, his dreams, fears, needs. I wanted him to trust me with everything in his heart more than I had wanted anything in a long time. “Were you dreaming about Callis?” I asked.

His jaw tightened. “No. Erys. You. The control ring.” He was quiet for so long I thought perhaps he wasn't going to tell me more. Finally, he did. “When I released the clamps, I could hear the ship lifting. I knew you were on it. I knew you were alive, and I still thought...”

“That you were leaving someone behind?” I imagined what it must have been like for him to fly away from Callis, knowing he was leaving his best friend behind to die.

“No. That I was going to lose you.”

I took his fist in both hands — it dwarfed them — and opened his fingers one at a time until the white left his knuckles. “Look at me.”

He did. “I can't lose you.”

“We're in this together. Right? You and me.” I pressed his hand over my heart. “We don't have any guarantees. We only have now. Right now, I'm yours and you're mine." I kissed his shoulder. The curve of his jaw. The corner of his mouth. "I need you.”

His gaze sharpened when I slid my hand up his thigh toward his cock. “Gina.”

“Don’t.” My voice cracked straight down the middle as an anger I hadn't realized I'd been holding back flared to life in my gut. I burned with quiet rage. “Don’t say my name like you’re handling me. Not tonight.”

“You are angry.”

“Of course I’m angry.” I shoved the sheet down his body and straddled his hips. He went rigid under me. Not from pain, I had scanned him thoroughly, knew he was well on his way to healing. I didn't hide my anger as his gaze roamed my face.

"Why?"

“You stayed behind.” I braced my hands on either side of his head and leaned in so our lips were nearly touching. My arms shook. “You looked at me, you decided, and you made me leave you behind. I didn’t get a vote. I stood there with every part of me screaming and I couldn't do one damn thing to stop you.”

“No.” His hands settled on the curves of my hips and he held me in place. “You could not.”

“Say you’re sorry.”

His eyes held mine. Steady. Dark. Absolutely, infuriatingly calm. “I am not.”

The air left my lungs as his dark gaze burned into mine. “I would do it again.” He said it quietly, the way another man might say I love you. “Tomorrow. Tonight. As many times as it takes. There is nothing I will not sacrifice to keep you breathing, Gina. Not my blood. Not my life. A thousand soldiers. Entire planets. Nothing.”

“That is not fair.” It was completely insane because I saw the truth in his eyes. He meant every word.

“I warned you.”

“I'm not worth that.” My eyes burned. I hit his good shoulder with the heel of my hand and he didn’t flinch, didn't break eye contact, dared me to believe him.

"You are to me." His hand came up and cradled my jaw, that huge, scarred palm so gentle it hurt worse than the fury did. “Come here.”

“No.”

“Gina.”