Chapter 6 Zeth
ZETH
The jeep rattled over potholes, kicking up dust against the windows as my thoughts ricocheted like loose parts in the engine.
What the fuck was that? What the flying fuck was that?
My hand tore through my hair, tugging hard until sparks of pain danced across my scalp—anything to shove away the burn of what I’d just witnessed. Anything to drown out what I’d just felt.
I should’ve looked away the moment Nova’s eyes snapped open at the sight of that turned wolf, but I couldn’t. I should’ve pretended I didn’t see, didn’t care. Instead, I leaned in, heart hammering as golden-pink flecks ignited in her pupils like embers fanned to life.
I saw the way her knuckles whitened around her leather sleeve the moment his fist smashed into flesh, the snap of bone echoing in her widened gaze.
My chest felt aflame with questions I had no right to ask yet couldn’t stop myself from wondering.
What did she feel when his eyes met hers?
Why had she hesitated when I called her name?
Not knowing was as irritating as angry ants crawling all over me. I had to know, had to find out the truth. I had the power to do that at my fingertips… even if something inside told me not to cross that line. I’d never seen her eyes shine like that for anyone but me all those years ago.
Against my better judgment, I’d reached for my demon power, letting the invisible tendrils of my magic brush against her so softly she didn’t notice, so focused on the fight in front of her. As soon as her feelings flooded me, I regretted it.
The first thing that hit me was attraction. No big deal. She’d been attracted to other men before, and while it was annoying, it never went further than that. Nothing more than a flicker she’d never let catch. Not worth my time or effort when I was the one by her side.
Ever since the situation with Liam five years ago, attraction was something she’d feel but snuff out before it grew into anything more. She had cracked open that door, peeked through, then slammed it shut before the air could change.
Staring out the window, I reminded myself that even her urges were mechanical.
I knew about the pack nights, the faceless bodies, a release she needed so she wouldn’t explode.
Those nights, I drank myself to sleep, but I understood it.
It was an itch she needed to scratch. Once that wolfish urge had been relieved, she would shut the door in their faces.
No repeats. No names. They meant nothing to her. They were nothing.
And that was exactly how I liked it because I was the one who mattered. I was the one she actually trusted and laughed with. The one she leaned on when the weight of the world pressed too heavily. I was her anchor, her sounding board, her safe choice. Me.
Which was more important than a warm body for a few worthless minutes of animal aggression.
At least that was what I kept telling myself.
Just the thought of her eyes on him had my nails biting into my palms, but it wasn’t enough to cut through the pain and despair clawing in the back of my mind because I knew the truth. I’d felt it.
It was interest. Real fucking interest. This wasn’t a door creaking open; it felt like a crack in the lock, the kind that would grow if you let it.
It started small. A spark when their eyes met. But with every move he made, every second of that fight, it grew, while I just sat there, feeling like someone was driving a knife straight through my chest.
If I were a wolf, I’d have growled so loudly the entire place would’ve heard. Maybe I would’ve leapt down and ripped him apart right there in front of her, just to remind him who he was looking at, or more like who he was not allowed to look at.
I didn’t. I stayed frozen, choking on the sweet taste of her interest while fury gnawed at me from the inside out.
“You good, Z?” Her voice cut through my spiral. She turned in her seat, hair drifting free of its braid, eyes soft with concern. It nearly eased the pain in my chest—nearly.
Those gold-threaded, rose-hued eyes searched mine, soft with concern for me.
It almost made me smile. Almost made me forget the knife still twisting in my chest. I loved it when she looked at me like that, giving me all her attention.
In those soft moments, she let me in. Looked at me the same way she did before I left, before my power got ahold of her.
“Uh—yeah,” I rasped, yanking my hand away and rubbing at my chest as if to smother the ache.
Think. Cover. Say something.
“Just… indigestion?” The words came out half-question, half-stammer. Idiot.
Her eyes narrowed on me, and when I didn’t back down, she rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Zeth, don’t tell me you ate another bag of flaming hot Cheetos. I told you not to eat the whole bag.”
I shrugged and played the guilty card, hoping she bought it.
She laughed, and just like that, the knots in my gut came undone. Her laugh always did that, smoothed me out, quieted the chaos. She only laughed like that with me. Only let her guard down with me.
Even with her laughter softening me, the truth scraped me raw.
That wolf was nothing but a shiny new toy with a couple of good moves and a face easy enough to stare at.
He didn’t have the years we had. He didn’t have the scars we shared.
All the late-night training, the blood, sweat, and regret I’d poured into her.
He hadn’t held her when she broke or watched her pull herself together, determined to prove her strength to the world.
He also didn't make your mistakes. Gritting my teeth, I told that voice to go fuck itself. I knew I’d fucked up, and I was paying my penance for it. Every. Fucking. Day.
But still… she looked at him differently, and I hated him for it.
My hands curled at my sides, nails biting into my palms as memory bled through. Chalk-dust air, the echo of our bodies hitting the mat, power ripping loose where it shouldn’t have.
Six years ago. Both my best and worst memory. Finally feeling like she saw me as a man, feeling my horns poking through my skull, growing, just when I saw those eyes glaze over, the shine of magic rippling through them. Then everything came crumbling down.
One moment of loss, one failure to hold the reins. I had to go before it got worse. Before she realized she just felt that way because of my magic then hated me.
If I’d been stronger... if I’d tried to learn how far my magic could go before that night—
The jeep jostled me as she veered off the dirt road and into town. “Hopefully, it’ll go away soon. Want me to drop you off? I can do this on my own if I need to.” She kept her gaze split between the road and the rearview, her voice too casual, too certain.
Her words gutted me.
She doesn’t need you anymore. She can do this all by herself. She doesn’t want you around. Serves you right for pushing her away. She’s going to find someone better.
Panic clawed at my chest. It didn’t help that I was already on edge because of that fucking turned wolf, but now my mind was falling off the deep end because she mentioned doing something without me. Fuck. I need to get a grip.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, forcing clarity through the haze before I spoke.
“It’s not so bad. Just a little blip.” My tone was light, but she kept eyeing me like she wasn't sure. Before she could press, I redirected. “Where’re you taking us? Did someone text you with a lead?”
Her head shook, those pale strands of hair slipping loose to frame the glow of her skin. My fingers twitched uselessly at my sides. All I wanted was to tuck them back, just one touch. Help her brush back those unruly strands.
“No,” she said, voice steady, sharp with purpose.
“I thought about what you said. He was working under the table, always in cash, right? That limits him. Places that pay in cash, that let you slide under the radar…” She flicked her blinker and turned into a strip mall shrouded in shadows.
A neon purple sign shined bright against the dark, spelling out Moon Runner.
She pointed. “Here. Best cash rates for work under the table, and anyone who pays with cash is untaxed. If he’s been running this long, he’s either worked here or at least come through.”
The jeep settled into a spot. She leaned toward me before sliding out, her voice dropping into something smug and certain. “I may have only been here five years, but I make it my job to know my territory.”
She winked and gave me a wolfish grin.
My heart flopped, ugly and desperate. If it had arms and legs, it would’ve busted out of my chest to chase her down like a mangy stray begging for scraps.
Why did it feel like both home and hell to be near her?
Soft comfort twisted with hunger, rightness tangled with regret?
For a year, I worked so hard to learn how to control it so she wouldn't be under the influence of my magic again, and we could build something naturally. Eventually, I’d tell her that she was my mate, and it didn't matter to me if I wasn’t hers.
I would prove to her wolf that I was the right one for her.
But as soon as I came back, she’d closed that door and put me in the friendzone. Fucking idiot!
Before I could smack myself in the head, I reminded myself about her secret pact with her siblings.
That mate-blocker tattoo of hers was my only solace. It meant I had time. I just needed to get her to see me as a mate candidate, then everything would be okay. It would all work out. I just needed patience. She said Ezra told her it should last ten to twenty years. I could wait for that.
Climbing out after her, I shoved my hands into my pockets, locking every reckless urge in a cage. If I slipped, she would turtle up so fast, I’d lose the scraps I still had. That risk was not one I was willing to take.