Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
JULIEN
The corpses are piling up outside the gate.
Thirty-seven. No, thirty-eight now.
“On your left.” Cameron comes up to my side.
I pivot, blade arcing through the neck of a female corpse in a tattered sundress. Her head drops with a wet thud, body following a beat later.
Thirty-nine.
“Anyone else think this is weird?” Ramirez kicks a severed hand away from the fence. “Two hours before sunrise, they just appeared. Like someone rang the dinner bell.”
“They didn’t even make noise.” Cameron plunges his knife through an eye socket, yanking it out with a practiced twist. “No moans. No shambling.”
I drive my blade between the eyes of a tall, emaciated corpse wearing what used to be a police uniform. “Could be connected to the wolves.”
Ramirez grunts, dispatching the last one with his hunting knife. “Wolves are nocturnal. These things showed up at dawn.”
“Maybe they’re evolving.” Cameron’s voice drops lower, less certain. “Learning.”
The thought chills my blood more than the morning air. “If they’re learning that, we’re fucked.”
Ramirez frowns. “Maybe it was just a group finding its way here. It can happen.”
“I’m not sure.” First, the pack with their coordinated attacks and communication. Now this—regular zombies showing up after two weeks of nothing.
“You think they are coming back?” Ramirez squints at the tree line beyond.
“I think something or someone was controlling this.” I don’t know how. Don’t know why. But instinct screams danger.
“Well, that’s fucking terrifying.” Cameron wipes his sleeve across his forehead. “So. What do we do?”
“Heads up.” Ramirez nods toward the compound. “We’ve got company.”
Sienna jogs toward us. Behind her, moving slower: Dakota, her mother, sister, and father. Anger flares at the sight of Nicklas. Still want to put him through a wall for what he said last night. For all he did to Dakota.
“Hey.” Sienna reaches us first, slightly breathless. “Holy shit.” Her eyes widen at the pile of bodies. “How many?”
“Lost count at thirty.” Cameron plants a quick kiss on her temple.
Dakota reaches us next, stopping several feet away. Her eyes meet mine briefly before sliding away. Something’s wrong. Her shoulders curve inward, like she’s trying to disappear inside herself again.
“What’s happening?” Carmen demands, voice pitched to carry. “Why is the gate blocked?”
“Zombies.” I point at the obvious. “Lots of them.”
“Well, clear them.” Nicklas steps forward. “We need to leave.”
“Leave?” Ramirez’s head snaps up. “Where the hell would you go? Every major city is overrun. Roads are deathtraps.”
“That’s not your concern,” Nicklas says.
What the—Dakota shifts her weight, focused on the ground. Amelia stands slightly behind her, one hand on Dakota’s arm.
“Actually, it is my concern when you’re talking about going through a gate I’m defending.” Ramirez squares his shoulders. “Nobody’s going anywhere until we figure out what the hell is happening.”
“Let’s focus on the immediate problem,” I say. “We need to stay alert tonight.”
Ramirez and Cameron nod.
“The rest.” I face Nicklas. “Stays inside.”
He rumples his nose, then stomps back to his cabin, followed by Carmen and Amelia.
“Ramirez, get the guns ready. Just to be sure.” I sheath my machete. “Sienna, can you stay here with Cameron, please?”
“Sure.” She hooks her arm with his. “I’ve got some snacks for us later…”
I grab Dakota and start walking toward the maintenance shed near the tree line. Ramirez uses it to store tools, extra fuel, and supplies. It’s also the one place in the compound with no clear sightlines from the cabins or the gate.
I hold the door open for Dakota, then follow her inside, shutting it behind us. The space is small, crowded with shelves of equipment, smelling of gasoline and motor oil. A workbench runs along one wall, cluttered with tools. Just enough room for two people to stand without touching.
“You’re disappearing on me again.” I step closer, my hand finding her hip, the other cupping her face. “Aren’t you?”
“Julien, this isn’t the time—”
“There’s always time.” I lean in, brushing my lips against hers.
She stays perfectly still for a beat, two, before melting against me, hands coming up to clutch my shirt.
The kiss deepens, desperate and hungry. I back her against the workbench, lifting her onto it without breaking contact.
Her legs part, letting me step between them, and I groan against her mouth at the contact.
I press my forehead to hers. “What’s this thing about leaving?”
Her eyes dart to the floor. “It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
“My father doesn’t want to stay here with you. It’s either the Levines or the Moras. Not both.”
I go still. “Because of us?”
“Because of everything. The argument with my father. You and me. Apparently, they tried to arrange for me to marry you first, not Cameron.” She huffs a bitter laugh. “You refused.”
“I did.” No point lying about it. “I told your father I wouldn’t be blackmailed. But then Cam—Doesn’t matter. That was before I knew you. Before—” I stop, not ready to name the feeling swelling in my chest whenever I look at her.
She slides off the workbench, putting space between us.
“Hey.” I catch her wrist before she can retreat further. “Look at me.”
She does, reluctantly.
“Nobody’s leaving.”
“You can’t stop them.”
“Watch me.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know my mother. She’ll make our lives hell.”
“Without you, it would be hell.” I wrap her in a hug, one hand sliding to the small of her back. “I’m not letting you go. We’re doing this. A relationship.”
“Relationship?”
“Sienna and Cameron are doing it. Why can’t we?”
“Julien—”
I crush my lips to hers again, and this time, thankfully, she responds instantly, arms coming up around my neck as she opens for me. I angle her head back, deepening the kiss until she whimpers into my mouth.
“We shouldn’t—” she gasps between kisses.
“Probably not.” I yank her shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind me. “Don’t care.”
Her fingers fumble with my belt. I help her, shoving my jeans down just enough while she works on hers. We’re frantic, all teeth and desperation, racing against time and sanity.
I spin her around and bend her over the workbench. She braces her hands, ass grinding back against me. I grab a condom from my pocket and roll it on before notching myself at her wet entrance.
“Tell me you want this,” I rasp against her ear.
“We can’t—”
I slam home in one brutal thrust.
Her scream tears through the small space.
“Quiet.” My hand clamps over her mouth, muffling the sound. “Unless you want everyone to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
She moans against my palm, body clenching around me. The workbench scrapes against the floor with each impact, tools rattling. I loop my arm beneath her breasts and lift her torso off the workbench. The new angle drives me deeper, and she keens behind my hand.
“Feel that?” I thrust harder. “Feel how perfectly you fit around my cock like the good girl you are for me?”
She nods frantically.
My hand slides from her mouth to her throat. “Who do you belong to?”
“You,” she gasps. “Julien, I—”
“Say it again.”
“Yours. I’m yours.”
Fuck, hearing that from her pretty mouth is like gasoline on the fire raging through my veins. I thrust deeper, harder, claiming every inch of her tight heat. She clenches around my cock like she’s made for me, pulling me in, begging without words, and my patience is gone.
I snap my hips forward, the workbench rattling with each punishing drive.
She feels incredible. Wet and slick, gripping me so perfectly I can barely think straight.
Tools clatter to the floor—screwdriver, wrench, doesn’t matter.
All that exists is her body under mine, the way she arches back, ass grinding against my pelvis, desperate for more.
“Dakota,” I growl, my hand tightening around her throat to feel her pulse hammering. “You’re mine. And I won’t lose what’s mine.”
She whimpers, her inner walls fluttering around me. She’s close again. I can feel it in how she trembles, and how her breaths come in short, needy gasps.
I release her throat, sliding my hand down to pinch her nipple, rolling it between my fingers until she bucks wildly. My balls tighten, pleasure coiling low in my gut, but I hold back. Not yet. I want her screaming my name first.
“Come for me.” I angle my hips, chasing that edge where she unravels, making her whole body seize. “Be a good girl and show me.”
“Julien.” She throws her head back, thighs trembling.
“You’re mine.” I slam forward and stay inside her, grinding as deep as I can.
At once, all the tension leaves her body as she cries out, turning into a hot shaking mess. Her pussy is clamping down on me so hard she takes me right with her, and I have to bite her shoulder to muffle my groans.
Fuck.
She’s perfect.
I catch my breath, reveling in the feeling of her pussy enveloping my twitching cock.
Wrecked, still responsive, and mine.
“Hmm.” I graze my lips on the back of her shoulder. “So beautiful when you’re falling apart for me.”
She huffs, her body pulsing with aftershocks, making her shiver in my arms. I breathe her in, burying my face in her hair. There is that scent again, the one I can’t name but would know anywhere.
“You okay?” I murmur.
She nods, still catching her breath.
I ease out of her carefully, disposing of the condom and tucking myself back into my jeans before turning her to face me. Her eyes are glassy, lips swollen, a fresh hickey blooming on her skin.
Mine.
“We’ll figure it out.” I drag my thumb across her lower lip. “Together. Promise.”
“Okay.” She offers me a tender smile.
“Okay.”
I kiss her again, slower this time. Tender. A promise sealed in the only language I’m fluent in. When we part, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“We should get back before they send a search party,” she whispers.
“Probably.”
She grabs her shirt and runs a hand through her hair. “Do I look… obvious?”
“You look perfect.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. She opens the shed door, checking to make sure no one’s nearby before stepping out. I follow, keeping a respectable distance as we walk back toward the gate. Every instinct screams to not let her go, but I respect her need for space.
For now.
I don’t know what’s coming. Don’t know how to solve the problem of her family’s hatred for mine. But I do know one thing with absolute certainty: I’m not letting her go.
Not now. Not ever.