Page 20 of Star Crossed Delta

SABA

M ak’s anger toward Saba lingered for days, despite his silence about her escape attempt and the kiss that followed.

They crossed paths in the hallways, but he often ignored her.

His anger festered, deepening like an untreated wound.

Mak became colder, more unreachable. He had always been distant, but now, he was an iceberg, silent, cold, and full of fury.

When he spoke to her, it was through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse and controlled.

His body language screamed disdain.

He avoided eye contact, turning his back to her, folding his arms as if shielding himself from her presence. His muscles were locked, the tension in his jaw constant, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tight.

Whenever she walked into a room, he left immediately, his shoulders stiffening before he brushed past her, his eyes burning with unspoken messages.

Yet, his silence spoke louder than any words.

His anger simmered beneath the surface, never exploding, always present.

When he did look at her, it was with a glare so harsh it disgusted her. She was nothing to him, and his every glance reinforced that feeling.

At night, he retreated into his world, disappearing for hours in his office or elsewhere in the lodge, speaking to anyone but her.

It was as if an invisible wall had been built between them, and every attempt to breach it was met with more silence.

One night, she sat in her empty bedchamber, overcome with loneliness.

Then, she heard Mak’s footsteps outside her door, heading to bed.

She rushed to the door, overwhelmed with need and sadness, just as he turned away from her sight.

‘Mak,’ she called out, unable to stop herself.

He paused, turning to her, surprise and wariness in his eyes.

He studied her in the dim light, his gaze moving over her exposed form, lingering on her disheveled silk gown.

Saba swallowed hard, words she’d longed to say choking her.

Still, she pushed through the fear. ‘I’m so sorry. I should have told you about Shiloh before we wed. I should have given you the truth you deserved. Please forgive me.’

Mak huffed in disbelief, studying her for a long moment, arms crossed over his chest. His expression unreadable, he took a step closer, the tension between them palpable.

Saba’s heart raced as he came within touching distance.

She reached out, her fingers brushing over his chest, tracing the intricate ink.

Mak’s breath hitched as her hand moved up to his jaw, and the electric charge between them deepened.

The air crackled with unspoken need, a shared longing that seemed to pulse in time with their hearts.

His brow arched as need flickered in his eyes.

A rare, burning desire flashed across his face, and Saba felt the pull of it. It was raw, the same lust she’d seen in the eyes of men staring at her sisters, now directed at her.

Mak cupped her cheek, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. Saba leaned into his palm, feeling the heat of his touch.

His breath brushed over her mouth, and she closed the distance between them, drawn by the unrelenting pull.

With a growl, Mak kissed her, fierce and tender, a meeting of souls.

Time stood still as they lost themselves in the kiss, a fusion of two beings bound by duty and destiny.

When he pulled back, his eyes dark with stormy emotion, he gently brushed his thumb across her swollen lips, his touch uncharacteristically gentle, a flicker of tenderness amid their fiery exchange.

MAK

The bourbon he’d had with dinner was getting to him, letting his inhibitions down, loosening the hard line he’d scored when it came to this woman.

Which meant he let go of the rage, overwhelmed by the need, the heated warmth, and the promise of intimacy she offered.

Her face was flushed, and his eyes fell to her lips, then lower to the outline of her nipples through her silk top.

He wanted to brush his thumb against one of them, peel off her shirt, and immerse himself in her.

It wasn’t just her sensuality.

Her apology had fokkin ’ burrowed past the fury.

Her soft plea worked its magic, drawing him in with her honesty that was pure, unfiltered, and without any pretense.

Mak clutched her slim and delicate hand, stroking her wrist, the heated sensation running straight to his groin.

His fingers tingled, wanting to lose themselves all over her curvy body.

Need tightened in his gut as his heart raced.

His cock throbbed, and he groaned.

Throwing caution to the wind, he walked her backward until they stood by her bed in her room.

He sat, placing her before him, in between his thighs.

She inhaled as he slid his hand beneath her silk top, caressing the smoothness of her skin underneath.

With meticulous care, Mak caressed her flat stomach and her ribs, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

Her eyes widened with shock and desire when he unbuttoned each of the pearl clasps, reached for the lace of her bra, and pulled it down.

She sighed as he lifted one side of her blouse, revealing her breasts.

They were so close that he caught the flutter of her pulse against her neck and drew in her floral foil.

As the top fluttered to the ground in a fall of silk, it exposed her creamy, firm flesh and rosy-brown nipples.

His cock surged with blood, hardening harder than he’d ever been in years.

Suppressing a moan, he cupped her warm skin and plumped her sweet tit with his hand.

Then, he suckled her hard nipple, grazing it with his lips and beard.

She called out his name in a gasping cry as she grabbed onto his shoulders.

His entire body flamed as he continued to suck and lick her tits one after the other.

She responded with tiny whimpers and moans with each tongue touch and nip of his teeth. She clung to him now with both hands as he dragged my tongue over her nipple again and chuckled as her groans went into overdrive.

The sound sent another tug to Mak’s cock, and all he craved to do was keep pleasuring her til she came undone, until she became his.

The thought was like a splash of cold water across his heated skin.

She had never been his.

She never wanted to be.

She was a plant, a forced bride.

She only married him to save her sister.

With a curse, he pulled away.

He couldn’t do this.

SABA

With a grunt, Mak picked Saba up by the hips and placed her on the side of him on the bed.

‘Get dressed,’ he muttered, standing upright and striding away.

With his back turned to her, he took a ragged breath.

‘Saba,’ he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. ‘I’m not ready for this.’

His admission hung between them, raw and unfiltered.

Saba slapped a hand to her mouth, trying to stop herself from crying out.

Mak’s broad shoulders tensed at her silent agony, shaking with the effort to control his internal struggle.

Sadness filled her as she crouched down for her blouse and slid it on without a bra, her mind too scattered to care for one.

She stared at his hunched vulnerability, something he never showed anyone, the cracks in the armor he wore daily.

Dressed, Saba stood as Mak paced the room, his internal war evident in every tense movement.

Was he rejecting her, or was he struggling with his demons, fears, and insecurities?

His face was savage, severe, and for a moment, Saba wondered if she had done the right thing by calling out to him.

His leonine gaze blazed. ‘I confess I struggled to understand why you did what you did,’ he rasped, laced with rough rage. ‘However, I know just how important family loyalty is.’

Tears welled in Saba’s eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.

‘Will you forgive me?’

Anger flamed in his eyes, and his hand reached for his chin and short beard, as if trying to control his wrath. ‘Regardless of your reasons, I don’t know if I can.’

His voice was strained, his words cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.

The force of his gaze bore down on Saba, filled with hurt and betrayal, sending a shiver down her spine.

She searched for the correct response, the balm of words to bridge the growing chasm between them. But they eluded her like wisps of smoke slipping through her fingers.

Instead, she stumbled and mumbled, ‘I never meant for any of this to happen. I was only trying to protect Shiloh, to shield her from a fate she couldn’t bear.’

Mak’s jaw clenched, the muscles working as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions beneath the surface. ‘What about me? Was my sacrifice worth it, too?’

The sting of his accusation hit like a physical blow, each word driving home the magnitude of her mistakes and their consequences. Saba’s heart ached with regret, knowing she had wounded him and possibly irreparably damaged their future. Or had she?

‘ Nada , it wasn’t worth it,’ she choked out, the admission bitter on her tongue. ‘I never meant to hurt you, Mak. I never wanted any of this.’

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, tracing a path down her cheeks as she met his eyes, raw and unguarded.

For a moment, there was a flicker of compassion in his eyes, a glimmer of understanding that cut through the anger clouding his gaze.

Then, his expression hardened once more. ‘Fourteen fokkin ’ years,’ he growled. ‘You have to understand the consequences of your actions. The lies, the deceit, the doubt, and the mistrust. All at my fokkin ’ expense.’

Saba stepped back, seared by his pain.

‘Do you know what Suri did to me?’ He ground out. ‘How she strung me along for years, then treated me like shit? Now, you and Shiloh did the same. How can you even have the nerve to ask for my forgiveness?’

He spun away, striding through the corridor.

He yanked open the door to his primary wing.

There was silence for a moment.

Then Saba jerked as the door slammed with heavy rage, the force of it hitting back toward her.

She swayed in the aftermath, her heart pounding.

It only escalated when his door was forced ajar again, and his angry strides came toward her.

She fled into her room, fearing the worst.

She rounded her bed when he appeared at her door and stalked inside.

She stepped back, holding her robe closed tightly, eyes fixed on him.

He stared at her. ‘You think I’m here to hurt you, Saba?’

Her lips parted to answer, but he scoffed, raking his eyes over her with scorn.

When she recoiled, his mouth twisted with derision. ‘You also think I’d lay my hand on you? Fokk , you must think I’m trash. I want to return what’s yours because I want nothing further to do with you.’

That’s when Saba realized an item was bunched in his hand.

He let what he held fall to the floor, giving her one last sweep from head to toe before swiveling on his heel and stalking out of the room.

Saba stared at the object he’d dropped at her feet.

It was her veil.

Crushed, ripped, in tatters.

Heartbroken, she fell to the ground, clutching it.

She ran her hand along its surface, now covered in jagged tears from where the diamonds had been ripped out.

The message was loud and clear.

Just like her wedding shroud, their trust had been torn apart.

His heart would never be hers.

She had lassoed him against his will and disrespected his happiness.

The moral of her unfolding story hit her hard.

Karma was a bitch, and now it was time for her to reap what she had sown.