Finding Najeeb’s hands crowding his on Jenan’s inert body almost made his head burst with rage.
As soon as he laid her down with trembling care on the ground, he flung Najeeb away and tackled him there.
Najeeb was so stunned by his attack, Numair got a few jaw-cracking punches in before Najeeb pulled himself together enough to retaliate. At the first blow that connected with Numair’s own jaw, something crashed in place inside him, rousing him from his blind wrath.
Najeeb was a powerful man, could hold his own with anyone else, but he wasn’t a violent man, and certainly not a killer. But Numair was. Najeeb was no match for him. If he didn’t curb himself, he would kill him.
Flinging himself off him and rebounding to his feet, he watched Najeeb rise to his, rubbing his already swelling jaw as if to make sure it was still hinged. Numair had pulled his punches, or it would have been pulverized now.
Looking at him as if at a horrific monster, Najeeb rasped with obvious difficulty, “What are you?”
“Something you can’t even imagine in your worst nightmares. Consider yourself lucky. I have destroyed men for causing me far, far less than the incalculable damage you just caused me with Jenan.”
As Numair moved, Najeeb’s body stiffened in readiness for confrontation. “Stay where you are, you maniac.”
Numair shot him a baleful glance as he rushed back to Jenan, scooped her unconscious form up and took her to their bed, where he’d missed having her like he’d miss a vital organ. She was warm, breathing easily. It seemed her nervous system had sought the refuge of oblivion to protect her from the brunt of Najeeb’s revelations.
After minutes of trying to rouse her and failing, but knowing she was in no danger, he rose and turned to Najeeb, who’d followed him, as if not trusting him with Jenan now.
“I’m over my murderous fury, which thanks to your punch—” he rubbed his own jaw; Najeeb’s punch would have felled any other man “—I realized was directed at myself. You only exposed the truth about what I once intended.”
Najeeb tried a bitter laugh, and it came out a pained groan. “You know where you went wrong? If you’d come clean to me, to Jenan, if you weren’t a cold, manipulative bastard, we would have gladly given you everything you wanted. I would have recognized your right to the throne, would have made my father relinquish it to you.” He nodded toward Jenan. “And she would have loved you. Of her own free will, and would have considered you the one who deserves Zafrana’s throne. Now I wouldn’t entrust the fate of a heap of dirt to you, let alone that of my kingdom. And if you spread your vicious lies about my father and try to destroy my family, I’ll fight you till my dying breath. As for her, don’t hold your breath you’ll be able to con her again.”
Numair exhaled. “Though you might not believe it now, I got you here so I can resolve this with minimum damage to everyone. But you didn’t let me finish what I had to say, and now anything you think is irrelevant. Fixing things with you will have to wait until I deal with this disaster you’ve caused me with Jenan.”
Najeeb’s antipathy wavered, before his gaze panned to Jenan and it turned to steel again. “You can try. But this woman would have died for you. If I know anything about her, she’d now rather die than let you near her again.”
Turning to Najeeb fully, he let him see the monster he had inside him, and that he could no longer harness it. “You better pray that your prediction doesn’t come to pass. If I lose her, I will have nothing else to lose in this world. Not even I can predict what I’d do then.”
Najeeb must have realized it was dangerous to continue antagonizing him, and was clearly uncertain if he even should, because with a last glance full of confusion, he turned and walked out.
He fell off Numair’s radar at once as he swooped down to Jenan, wrapping himself around her.
He wasn’t losing her. Najeeb underestimated the power of what they had. She’d listen to him, and she’d understand, and she’d believe him again, trust him again.
Love him again.
* * *
Something hot and hard spread over Jenan, as smothering and inescapable as a shroud of burning steel.
Panic flooded her as she started to struggle, even when she knew there could be no escape. Sobs tore from her depths, gurgled to the surface.
“Shh, shh, ya hayati, calm down, everything is all right, you’re safe. I’m here, and I’m yours.”
That voice... Numair’s voice. It had been the one thing she wanted to hear, the one thing to make her feel invincible. But now it made her suffocate with betrayal and misery.