Rage and Ruin(27)

“How do you feel, knowing that it was supposed to be me that Abbot raised?” I blurted out. “That if my mom had done what she was supposed to do, you might never have met Layla?”

“That’s...” Zayne shifted as if he were trying to get comfortable. “That’s a hard question to answer. I don’t know what to think, or if thinking about it even matters, because that’s not what happened. The past is the past, and what should’ve been doesn’t change that, but if you’re asking if I regret these series of mistakes that led to this moment?”

My breath hitched. “I’m not asking that. Of course you don’t regret it. I wouldn’t—”

“I don’t,” he cut in. “And I do.”

I stilled.

“If what was supposed to have happened had, we would’ve had years of training and preparing together. We wouldn’t be playing catch-up, and maybe I wouldn’t—” He stopped and then drew in an audible breath. “We would be more ready than we are now, and everything that happened with Misha wouldn’t have.”

I flinched, heart dropping a little.

“But I can’t regret that my father took Layla in,” he continued. “Even with how all of that turned out, I can’t regret it. I don’t.”

I let that sink in. “I understand.” And I did. I got it, and I was glad he didn’t seem to be dwelling on it.

Zayne didn’t respond, and I decided I’d asked enough random questions for at least the next couple of hours.

I should probably get up, but I was comfortable and I... I missed this.

I missed having someone to talk to.

I thought about the calls from Jada. I really needed to call her.

“You miss your stars.” Zayne spoke into the darkness. “The ones back home, on the ceiling. Took me a bit to realize what you were talking about, but I remember.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Those stars.”

“Got a question for you. A quick one.”

I turned my head toward him. “What?”

“If you were coming out here to see if I was still awake, why did you have your dagger with you?”

Dammit.

“You know...” I started.

“No, I don’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know, I don’t know why I grabbed it. Habit, I guess.”

“Strange habit.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“After a night like this, grabbing a dagger wasn’t a bad idea,” he tacked on, and I wasn’t entirely convinced that meant he believed me. He chuckled under his breath.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about... I was thinking about Greene.” He cleared his throat. “He wasn’t a good sleeper, awake in the mornings and up in the afternoons, which may be normal for humans but not us. I saw him a lot since I kept the same hours because of Layla and her school schedule. Anyway, both of us had trouble staying asleep, so we’d end up watching soap operas.”

“Really?” I shifted back onto my side.

“Yep. Days of Our Lives.”

“You’re joking.”

“No.” He laughed. “We were pretty invested in the Deveraux and Brady drama.”

“Wow.” I laughed, but it was heavy. “I really am sorry about what happened to him.”

“So am I.” He exhaled heavily. “Greene was quiet, and other than Days of Our Lives, he kept to himself, but he was someone any of us could count on. He even went against my father about everything that went down with Layla. What happened to him is sad. It’s wrong. His life shouldn’t have ended that way. Worst part is that his name is now another on this list that just keeps growing longer. Greene will be mourned. He will be missed. And then his name will become the next person we’ve lost. Then the third and the fourth, and we’ll have to stop mourning him to allow room for someone else, because after a while, you don’t have enough room. You just can’t.”

Zayne dragged a hand down his face. “I know that sounds callous. Maybe like I don’t even care, but...you get used to the death. Too used to it. No need for the seven stages. You go right from shock to acceptance.”

Sadness filled me as I lay there. I knew firsthand what loss felt like, but I was also far removed from the almost weekly losses some clans experienced. The sorrow I felt in my chest wasn’t coming just from me. It was also flowing from him, a grief tinged in anger and acceptance, and I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to ease what he was feeling, and I didn’t know how to do that.

So, I did the only thing I could think of.

Wiggling toward him, I unfolded my arms and threw one over his shoulder. He stilled, but I kept squirming, weaseling my way against his chest. Once I was there, I squeezed.

Zayne didn’t move.

“I’m hugging you,” I told him, voice muffled against his chest. “Just in case you have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I figured it was that.” His voice sounded like it had when he’d first woken up. “Or you were pretending to be a seal.”

I let out a short laugh, but Zayne remained as stiff as a wall. Realizing my awkward hug was a bit of a failure, I started to pull back.

Zayne moved then, folding an arm over my waist. His fingers curled around the back of my shirt as he held me there. Then, after a few seconds, I felt his body relax against mine, but the grip on my shirt was still there.

His chest rose against mine. “Thank you.”





13


As I floated through waking up, everything smelled like fresh snow and winter. Yet I was toasty, almost too warm. It reminded me of a time I’d dozed off on the roof beside Misha while he slept in his Warden form. It had been early summer, so the sun hadn’t been too strong and the warmth had been surprisingly relaxing.

But I’d ended up with a nasty sunburn.

I was pretty sure I hadn’t fallen asleep on a roof. I started to move, but could only wiggle about an inch. Was I wrapped in a blanket cocoon? I’ve done that before, tossing and turning until blankets ended up wrapping around me like cellophane.

Stretching my legs, I froze when I felt another set of legs against mine.

Last night.

I’d fallen asleep on the couch with Zayne. I hadn’t meant to do that. Had he fallen asleep before me? Or had I passed out plastered against him like I was at this moment? I’d hugged him and he’d thanked me and then... Neither of us had said anything after that.

God, I hoped I hadn’t passed out and trapped him against the back of the couch like a—

The arm around me tightened, and Zayne made a deep rumbling sound that I felt all the way to the tips of my toes.

My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring at a chest covered by a white shirt. That was just about when I realized my cheek was not on a pillow but on rather firm biceps.

Oh my.

There were few things in life stranger than unexpectedly waking up in the arms of someone. Or more wonderful than when it was in the arms of someone like Z—

Stop.

Cutting off those thoughts, I focused on what to do from this point. Slowly, I tilted my head back and lifted my gaze.

Zayne was still asleep.

Thick lashes fanned his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. He looked so...relaxed. Vulnerable, even. My gaze roamed his face. I should probably stop staring at him while he slept, because that was more than just notably creepy, but it was so rare I was this close to him and had such an unobstructed view.

He had a freckle. Three of them, actually, under his right eye. They were faint, but I could... I could see them, and they formed a little triangle. Did he have others? I scanned his face. I didn’t see more, but there was a faint shadow along his jaw and chin. I’d never seen him with facial hair, and I wondered what he’d look like if he let it grow.

Probably hotter. Sounded impossible, considering he was beautiful enough that it bordered on obscene.

For a moment, I did something so stupid and I let myself...dream.

I closed my eyes, imagining what it would be like if I woke up in his arms and he was mine and I was his. I’d kiss him and then snuggle closer, and if that didn’t wake him, I would do something annoying to get him to wake up. My imagination filled in what would come next. Zayne, because of who he was, wouldn’t be annoyed that I’d stolen minutes or even hours of his sleep. He’d laugh and then give me that sleepy, sexy smile of his. Then he’d roll me under him and kiss me. And of course, in my perfect fantasy, there’d be no such thing as morning breath. So that kiss would be deep and long, a languid caress that would lead to more kissing. I pressed my lips together, squirming as my skin heated. Zayne’s shirt would come off, so would mine and then there’d be nothing—

The arm around me curled again, and suddenly we were chest to chest, hip to hip. My eyes popped open and I looked up at Zayne. He was still asleep, but his body—well, a certain part of him was definitely awake.

Oh, goodness.

Could he pick up on what I was feeling even though he was asleep? If so, that would be really, just completely, annoying.

Time for me to get up. Definitely well past time, because if I didn’t, things were going to get awkward and I was already at peak awkward, so I needed to avoid that. I lifted my gaze, drawing in a breath.

Pale blue eyes met mine.

Too late.

“Morning,” I mumbled.