Chapter 8
This Is Better Than Thinking
Holly
Irun.
I don’t think.
And I certainly don’t look up.
The snow is deep, and I’m out of breath by the time I reach the stables. I fling open the door and almost dive inside. The door slams shut behind me. The horses stamp and whicker, but I bolt for the nearest empty stall and crouch down, resting my head on my knees as I gulp in air.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image is still burned there, clawing at the edges of my brain.
Zayne wasn’t Zayne anymore. That thing…whatever it was…had been huge. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe my brain just stitched together scraps of nightmares.
His eyes—black, with yellow slits—weren’t human. Predatory. Like a snake about to strike. His body sleek and endless, scales shimmering green and blue as if they couldn’t decide what color to be. There was a jagged crest down his head and neck, like a crown carved from knives.
And those fangs—curved and white, too long, too sharp, catching the light as he opened his jaws.
And the wings—God. Twenty feet at least, a storm cloud made of bone and glass, scattering snow like diamonds. And for one reckless heartbeat, I thought he was beautiful. Then I wanted to slap myself because monsters aren’t beautiful. Monsters aren’t real.
The tail whipped once, barbed and lethal, and I was gone. Running. Because nothing that terrifying, that magnificent, could exist outside of nightmares.
And yet, even in that heartbeat before I ran, there was something I recognized. The tilt of his head, the coiled strength in the way he stood—it was him. Zayne. My Zayne.
I could feel the air move as he rose into the sky. And I just ran harder.
Maybe I should have stayed. But all I could think was: not real, can’t be real, as my body took over and sent me running.
Monsters aren’t real. Except he’d looked freaking real. Those teeth had definitely seemed real.
I breathe deeply, trying to slow my racing heart.
Magic isn’t real. Magic isn’t real. Magic…
It can’t be real because if it is, then my life is an even bigger lie. That belief has been a constant for as long as I can remember.
But then I just learned that everything else is a lie. Why not this?
No. There’s a rational explanation.
I’m hallucinating. Maybe this whole trip home has been one big hallucination. Yes, that’s it. I pinch my arm hard, but unfortunately, I don’t wake up.
A thump sounds outside the stables, like something really big landing in the snow.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
If that thing comes in here, I’m going to have to protect the horses. Even if it’s not real—I can’t let it eat Belbel. The trouble is, I can’t move. I’m literally frozen in place.
I force my limbs to straighten, then go instantly still as the stable door is pushed open from the outside.
I hear footsteps—human footsteps—and almost sag with relief.
I turn slowly and peer around the edge of the door.
It’s Zayne—the real Zayne, not the monster.
I almost collapse as relief weakens my legs.
He steps inside, and the door closes behind him. He looks around for a moment, his gaze settling on Belbel, who’s watching from the stall door. He stops and strokes her nose.
“Hello, sweet girl,” he murmurs. “Glad to see you’re still here.”
Then he turns around, and I duck back. “I know you’re there, Holly. You might as well come out.”
He’s right. Except I don’t want to come out. I do risk a peek around the door. He’s leaning against the wall, arms folded, staring straight at my hiding place.
When he spots me, he smirks, then pushes himself away from the wall and stalks slowly toward me. I straighten as he stops a foot away. I just stare, taking in everything. There’s no monster, just Zayne.
He steps closer. I breathe him in—heat and spice and cold air. I lean a little closer. He’s staring at my mouth. Then he reaches out and strokes a finger down my cheek. A shiver runs through me, prickles racing across my skin.
Then he lowers his head and kisses me.
At first, his kiss is tentative, as though he’s giving me time to back out. But I don’t want to back out. I want to forget everything except for his kisses and his hard body and the way he looks at me sometimes like he’s already inside me.
I raise my hand, slide it around his neck, and pull him closer, and the kiss deepens.
His body presses into me, pushing me backward until I’m flush against the wall.
He raises his hands to cup my face, tilting it up so he can deepen the kiss.
My lips part beneath his, and his tongue slides inside, brushing against mine, igniting a heat that settles low in my belly.
I can feel the hardness of his erection pressing into me, and I love that he wants me.
My hands are in his hair now, holding him to me as I kiss him back, kissing him until we have to come up for air and we stare at each other.
He’s so beautiful—his silver eyes rimmed with black, hard cheekbones, full lips.
“Just like old times,” he murmurs. “Kissing in the stables. You know, I still find the smell of hay and horses incredibly erotic. That’s thanks to you, princess.”
We’d never done much more than kissing. We’d been waiting until I was sixteen. We’d both been virgins back then. I’m guessing that’s not the case anymore. He’s certainly had some practice since the last time we were here. Bastard.
“We need to talk,” he says.
“Shut up and kiss me.” I step into him, slide my hand around his waist, feeling him hard against me. He chuckles low in his throat, but then he takes a deep breath and steps back. “Talk first.”
I don’t fucking want to talk. I don’t want to think. I want to forget. Not forever—well, maybe forever—but definitely for now. “Please,” I say.
He looks at me for a long moment. God, is he going to make me beg?
But finally, he nods. I don’t give him a chance to change his mind. I kiss him again, biting his lip until he opens for me and I push my tongue inside, then slide my hand down his body. Zayne goes still.
“Slow down, princess.”
I growl. “No. Faster. Please, Zayne. I need you.”
He’s already hard, and he’s big, and I can feel the burning heat of him through the leather of his pants. The pants are going to have to go. I squeeze, and he groans low in his throat, and I feel the moment he stops fighting me. Gives up.
In one second, he takes control. It’s a riptide—sudden, irresistible.
All male power and gentle force. He kisses me like he’s starving, tongue thrusting, teeth nipping.
He kisses down my throat, licks my pulse, pushes the jacket off my shoulders so it drops to the floor.
He bites the soft spot where my neck meets my shoulder, then tugs my sweater over my head and tosses it across the room.
I feel the cold air against my skin, but I’m burning up.
His hand slides around me, and he undoes my bra, peeling it from my breasts.
Then he steps back to look at me, a dull flush along his cheekbones.
He cups one breast in his big hand, then lowers his head, licks my nipple, then sucks it into his mouth, and my spine arches.
Pleasure shoots through me, settling low down in my belly.
I need more, but he knows that. His hands are already at my waist, unfastening my jeans. I manage to kick off my boots, and he drags my jeans over my hips, down my thighs. I hop on one leg to allow him to get one leg off, then the other. And I’m naked.
He stops.
Nooo!
But then I catch his gaze, and I know he’s going to finish this. I’m not sure anything could stop us now. “Gods, princess—you’re going to ruin me.”
That will do.
I slide my hands around his shoulders, press my hot skin against him. He’s still fully clothed, but not for long.
His hands come around me and cup my bottom, and he lifts me.
I wrap my legs around him, and he’s backing me up against the stable wall.
And he’s kissing me again. Hot, wet kisses as his hand moves between us.
He slides it between my thighs, cupping my sex, one finger gliding between my folds, pushing inside.
My brain stops working. I writhe against him, needing more.
His hand goes, and I’m bereft, but I can feel him undoing his belt, unfastening his pants. And then I feel it. The scalding hot length of him against me. I lift my face to look into his eyes. They’re wild. For a second, they flicker yellow. But nope, not going there.
Then he thrusts inside me, stretching me, filling me, and I gasp.
He stills, stares down at me with Zayne’s eyes, and I buck my hips against him, and he starts to move.
The drag as he pulls out is exquisite, the push as he fills me better.
I close my eyes and concentrate on that place where we become one, the drag and push, the way he rotates his hips against my clit, so the pleasure builds and builds inside me.
Until there’s too much, and I don’t think I can take any more.
“Look at me, princess, I want to see your eyes when you come.”
My eyes flash open as he slips a hand between us, strokes between my thighs, then pinches my clit as he thrusts hard, and I come. I throw back my head and scream as the pleasure floods me. He pinches again, and I almost black out. Stars flash inside my head.
I can feel the moment he comes as well, his head going back, baring the long line of his throat, his hips still pumping into me, his fingers digging into my ass. Finally, he goes still, burrowing his head in the curve of my shoulder. Our hearts race in unison. Breaths come fast.
But soon the world intrudes. It’s fucking freezing in this stable. A shiver runs through me, and he raises his head.
Then he pulls away.