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“Marshal and witness. That’s who we are. I’ll find the answers and clear your name, so you can find another job. Private security would suit you.”
She stepped up to him. “Stop being a marshal for one fucking second. Help meunderstand.”
“There’s nothing to understand beyond what we already know. The og’dals controlled you and I failed to see what was happening. After we capture Var’Len, we’ll forget the incident.”
“The incident…” She rubbed her temples. “You’re still talking about the case as Commander of GI7. I want to understand how we fit together going forward. You and me, Z. The zyanthan male who doesn’t trust the human female enough to share anything about his life. His personal life.”
“My personal life will not help you.”
She lifted her chin with a determined look in her eyes that was the Maggie he knew so well. Her spirit remained intact, even if she didn’t see it.
“Let me in, you stubborn male. Tell me who you are. About the scars. About why you’re no longer a warrior… everything. Give me something to hold on to. You keep saying you’ll protect me, but I think you’re the one who needs protection. That’s why you won’t let anyone in. You’re protecting yourself in a way that cuts people out. If you really do trust me, then trust that I won’t use your past against you.”
“Why is my past so important to you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I want to know you better. Maybe I’m hoping you had a good childhood and I can live in your memories for a while. Because quite frankly, my past sucked, and I feel like I’m falling, Z. I need something to hold on to. Someone to catch me.”
Her request cut deep, dredging up a past he’d rather forget, but for her, he would. Anything to give her what she needed. Anything to help her feel whole again.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
MAGGIE
Zirkov’s jaw tightened, and his horns remained pitched forward, a sign he was on edge. Over the past two years, he’d been arrogant, controlling, and frequently ignored DAA rules. And yet Maggie had always been drawn to him and knew she could trust him.
He motioned for her to sit on one of the plush chairs in his living room. She ran her hand along the velvety high back as she rounded the chair and sank into its thick cushions.
“This scar,” he began, pointing to the long thin line that ran down the right side of his neck, “Is from a sword during training. My instructor taught me a lesson.”
“He intentionally scarred you?”
“If I’d been paying attention while sparring, he never would have had the opening. That was the lesson.”
“He should have pulled the strike,” she said, horrified but not completely surprised that zyanthan warriors didn’t use blunted weapons in practice.
“He did, which is why I have a scar and my life. But it was worth the lesson. I never let my guard down again. Until you.”
She could read between the lines. He had trusted her, but never would again.
Then he flashed her a smile she hadn’t seen before. Devilish. Not a look she associated with Zirkov, despite his massive horns. Her heart sped up.
“You should smile more. It suits you.”
“It is not in my nature.” The smile disappeared.
“Maybe you need a reason to smile.” She waggled her brows, then glanced up at his horns. Sure enough, the tops twisted.
Silver eyes darkened, stirring her lower region. “Do you wish to end up in bed again?”
Yes!her body screamed, then she reined in her desire. If she slept with him again, it would be because she truly wanted it. The doctors assured her there would be no lingering effects from the implant, but they’d never encountered the device before. She wanted to luxuriate and remember every dirty and wonderful detail of sleeping with Zirkov, not question the reason behind it.
“I want my memories back, Z. I feel robbed. Iwasrobbed. Good or bad, those memories belong to me, and I’m incomplete without them.”
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “The memories will return. Give yourself time to heal. Now, is there anything else concerning you?”
Those silver eyes of his held a confidence she hoped to regain. Maybe she just had to trust in him for a while.
“I’ll be fine if I start thinking in terms of what I can control, not what I can’t.”
