Chapter 35
Phoenix
Zane stomps into the kitchen like a storm cloud. Thunder cracks behind his emerald eyes.
He's in a mood. And not his usual brooding kind. This is different, tight around the mouth, scarred muscles taut, no eye contact, no sarcasm. Doesn't even grunt hello when he walks into the room.
I lean over the map I've drawn, pen in hand, one eyebrow arching. “Rough night?”
His jaw tightens but he says nothing.
Interesting.
Unable to resist poking the bear, I smirk. “What is it this time? The cold? Food? The fact that Ivy wore your shirt to bed but still smelt like me?”
He still doesn't answer. Just sinks into a chair like gravity is double in his direction, folding his arms over his bare chest, glaring at me through the black strands of hair falling over his eyes.
Zane doesn't ignore shit like that.
I look at him properly now—really look—and something about the set of his shoulders, the storm behind his eyes… it's way off.
“Did Ivy kick you in her sleep, or did you have another wet dream you couldn't act on?” I prod further.
His eyes lift slowly, a muscle in his jaw ticking like a goddamn metronome. “Careful,” he growls. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
I raise my eyebrow, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Never said I was. I’m just observant. And right now? You look like you wanna murder someone… preferably me. But you're usually a little more vocal when you’re jealous.”
Zane leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his face. “You done?”
“Not even close.”
He shrugs. But the tension in his shoulders is a fucking beacon.
Pushing back from the table, I straighten and cross my arms. “You know when I'm like this, you usually say I need a fuck. Should I return the favour?”
He throws me a look that could flay skin off bone.
Bingo.
“You're not good at hiding it,” I say, dropping the smile. “You think you are. But you're not.”
He exhales hard through his nose. I let this silence hang for a beat, then tap the map on the table. We don’t have time for this shit. There are people out there looking for her, and he’s sitting here sulking. We already found out too late.
Myles and I went over the plan this morning before Zane even got up. Our police station marked in red, traps and mines marked with crosses. The perimeter route drawn in a loop, supply cache points, everything.
“Here's the setup.”
He doesn't even fucking look.
I roll my eyes and run through the main points. “We’ll split up. Create lures, pull attention. Make any scouts believe we’re holed up in the grocery store, which we’ll rig with snares, tripwires, even a beartrap if you can spare one. Myles will stay behind with Ivy.”
His head snaps toward me like I punched him. “What!?”
I blink slowly. “You haven't even heard….”
“I've heard enough!” he snaps. “You want to split our strength.” His biceps ripple with tension as his voice lowers to a deadly octave. “And leave Ivy alone.”
He says it like it's the dumbest idea I've ever had.
But I stare him down anyway. “She won’t be alone. She'll be with Myles,” I pause. “Myles is the best person to protect her.”
“You can't be serious,” he scoffs, scowling.
Leaning on the table, I grit my teeth. “He won't be useful out there. He's too hot headed, too reckless. But in here? With one thing to focus on? He'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
“The same guy you pulled off her a week ago?” Zane growls, jumping to his feet and pacing as if movement might burn off the poison. “The one who was going to carve his name into her? Who treats her like she belongs to him? She's not ‘safe’ with him.”
I straighten, facing him across the table. “I’ve put him back in line,” my voice rumbles, a growl buried beneath layers of self-control. “I'm trying to keep her alive and I trust Myles will do the best job of that.”
Ivy isn't like us. She's gentle in a world that eats softness alive. She barely even raises her voice. How the hell am I even supposed to protect something that breakable?
Sure, she’s a defiant, silver-tongued little problem. Honestly, a formidable opponent mentally. But physically? She couldn’t win a fight with a rabbit. And her jibbing could get her in serious trouble with the wrong people.
I’ve seen what men are capable of. Zane’s seen it too. But where I had to bury the body of my ex, he was forced to participate in the capture and brutalising of women.
He opens his mouth, shuts it again. I can see the retort forming behind his clenched teeth.
His eyes narrow. “That's not why you picked him.”
“No?” I tilt my head. ‘’Enlighten me.”
“You're trying to atone.” His voice lowers, sharp and cold.
“He was walking around like a kicked dog after you ‘put him back in line’.
You took what wasn't yours and pretended it was for their benefit.
Like she was yours to claim and him too.
As if we're not all breathing the same damn air around her. All of us walking a tightrope.”
Looking back down at the map, I press the pen into paper until it almost snaps. Zane sees fucking everything.
I tried to stay away from her. I really did. But I’m completely obsessed, and I can’t deny it any longer.
“Maybe,” I admit, meeting his death stare. “But I had to stop Myles’s destructive spiral. He’s trying now… and he needs a chance to prove himself.”
“So it’s for his sake now? Charity? Rehabilitation?” He takes a step towards me and for a minute I think we might end up fighting it out, like when he first joined us. But then he turns and starts pacing again.
“I trust him. We both know Myles would tear his own throat out before letting anyone hurt her,” I grind out, my chest squeezing at the thought of something happening to her. She's part of our group now. But she's the weakest link.
He glares at me. “I still don't like it.”
“You don't have to. I'm not asking permission,” I say, tone clipped. “You just have to work with me. I've always protected this group.”
He doesn't respond but he's staring at me with something venomous in his eyes. And it takes me a second to realise what it is.
Jealousy. But no, there’s a hint of guilt. Maybe regret?
He sees it now. The shift. The way I look at her. Talk about her. The quiet fear tightening around my spine every time I imagine her alone, defenceless, waiting for us to come back.
And he hates it. That must be it.
He's always been the patient one. The one she looks at with those soft eyes like he's the safest place in the world. But now he knows he's not her only refuge.
That jealousy’s coiling tighter around his throat by the second. It's not just that he's worried he's losing her. He’s seething because I’ve had her. Because Myles has had her. And he hasn’t.
“You done glaring at me,” I say evenly. “This plan works. It's the only way we can create a diversion and keep her hidden. We’ll booby-trap the streets and use one route to come and go.”
His nostrils flare, hand clenching into a fist. He's not even paying attention to the fucking plan.
Staring at him for a beat, I try to control the annoyance grating my nerves.
No. Fuck his shitty attitude.
I toss the pen on the table. “Alright,” I snap. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
That gets him to blink.
“You've been an asshole all morning. Snapping at Myles. Ignoring Ivy. Stalking around like you can't stand your own skin. I've seen you pissed before, but this? This is rare. What the fuck happened?”
He stiffens. Doesn't answer. But that's all I need.
Something did happen.
My voice drops as I step closer. “Zane.”
“I said it's nothing,” he growls.
“No,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “You didn't say shit. Did something happen?”
His jaw locks. “Nothing happened last night,” he snaps through gritted teeth.
My eyebrows jump up as my stomach twists.
Last night?
We stare each other down, and I can see he’s on the verge of losing control.
My throat goes dry as I realise… he would’ve got back late last night to Ivy asleep in his bed… unguarded. Vulnerable.
“What did you do?” I growl.
“Nothing,” he bites out, firm. But then something flickers across his eyes that makes my stomach twist more and my pulse stutter. “…but I almost…” he rasps.
I step back, my breaths the only sound in the stifling silence. My stomach flips. “Fuck,” I breathe.
Zane hangs his head and yanks on his hair with a shaky fist. “You think I'm pissed because she's choosing you? Or Myles? I'm pissed because I almost…” he huffs. “I can’t even say it. I want to tell her, I do. I want to confess and apologise. I just, don’t know how.”
Silence hangs heavy between us. We stand there in the tension for a long moment. The map between us. Ivy’s name written in invisible ink on every fucking inch of it.
I see the guilt on his face clearly now. The kind that clenches in your gut, bleeds into fury and leaves you feeling completely powerless.
“I need you focused,” I say quietly.
He nods. Barely.
“I mean it. I need you here,” I pause. “She needs you. We don’t know how many of them there are or how many they’ll send to retrieve her. You need to keep this shit quiet for now. Myles cannot find out what happened.”
Deep down, I know she’d still trust him… but Myles would go ballistic.
He swallows and takes a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I know.”
When he turns to leave, unease coils in me again as he glances down the hallway—not towards the armoury, but towards the front lounge. Where she is.
For the first time in months, I'm reminded of his past. The horrors he’s seen and participated in.
And I wonder if Zane is more dangerous to Ivy than either of us want to admit.