Chapter 29 Zaria
ZARIA
The night before the meeting at Mansion House, Zaria couldn’t sleep.
It was raining lightly, the sound amplified as drops bombarded the roof.
The air was dense with humidity. She’d done her best to relax, spending far too long in the bath and then on her hair.
It was no use—she felt jittery with anticipation, her heart clambering around in her chest as though trying to escape.
She pressed a pillow over her face and resisted the urge to scream into it.
Unable to bear the stifling heat any longer, she rose with a sigh, then crossed to the window and opened it.
As she made to back away, she hesitated, catching movement in her periphery.
Her bedroom had a partial view of the balcony connected to Kane’s office, and there was somebody on that balcony right now.
Zaria was unable to make out more than a silhouette, but it could only be Kane. What was he doing out there at this time of night?
Well. If they were both going to be awake, they might as well discuss the plan for the following day. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to see Kane’s unerring confidence. He was always so sure of himself, so sure of his strategies, that it eased some of her own fears.
Upon exiting her rooms, Zaria was surprised to find Adam outside her door. He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes heavy. Everything about him radiated ease. Spotting Zaria, he straightened. “Evening. What do you think you’re doing?”
There was a note of teasing in his voice, and it gave her enough confidence to be honest. “I know Kane is still in his office. I’d like to see him.”
“Then I’ll escort you,” Adam said. He appeared almost pleased to be granted a task.
“It’s only down the hall.”
“Humor me. My legs are stiff as hell.”
Zaria shrugged, and together they made their way down the corridor. “Where’s Elijah?”
“Asleep. We take turns guarding your door.”
She shot him a sidelong glance. “Since when?”
Adam looked a little sheepish, running a hand over his bristly head.
“The whole time,” he admitted. “Kane wanted you to believe Elijah was your only guard. He’s always there when you go to bed, and then again first thing in the morning.
Apparently they didn’t think my presence would be enough of a deterrent.
As you may have noticed, Elijah’s more of a stickler than I am. ”
“He does take his job seriously,” Zaria said, scowling as she digested this revelation. It made sense, though; both boys needed to sleep at some point.
Adam’s grin was fond. “Yes. Indeed he does.”
“You love him,” she understood suddenly, then winced, wondering why she’d felt the need to voice it aloud. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Adam chuckled. “Are you surprised?”
“You’re just so different from each other.”
“We are,” he agreed. “And what does that matter?”
Zaria wasn’t sure how to answer. By now they had drawn up outside Kane’s office, and she shot Adam what she hoped was an appreciative look. “I’m happy for you. Thanks for the escort.”
He winked, then rapped his fist against the door. “My pleasure. If Durante is angry about this, by the way, I’m blaming you.”
Zaria nodded absently, testing the handle. “It’s open.”
“It usually is when he’s in there. Good luck.”
She thought about asking why luck would be required, but Adam was already walking away.
Pursing her lips, she entered the office, then blinked as light assaulted her vision.
A nearly spent candle burned atop the desk, and in its glow she could make out the balcony beyond.
She tiptoed over to the glass door. It, too, was partially ajar, and she gripped the frame with one clammy hand.
Kane stood on the balcony with his elbows braced on the railing, gazing out over the rooftops.
His posture was relaxed, his head bowed, although not in a way that suggested ease.
He looked like a conquered king surveying his ruined kingdom.
His white shirt was damp, the top few buttons undone, sleeves shoved up to his elbows.
The cool breeze ruffled his hair as Zaria studied the curve of his spine.
She wondered if she ought to leave. To retreat to her rooms once more, safe from the incisive snare of his gaze.
It was a fool’s hope, of course, that he wasn’t already aware of her. She knew as his shoulders tensed that she was caught.
“Zaria.” He spoke without turning, her name a low rasp. He was sober this time—she could tell by the timbre of his voice.
I’ll go, she should have replied. I can tell you’re not in a mood to talk.
Instead she said, “Kane.”
Only then did he deign to look at her, something in the air between them pulling taut. “Why are you awake?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
He didn’t answer right away, so she stepped out onto the balcony. Rain spattered her face and bare arms, but Zaria didn’t pay it any mind. She heard Kane’s breaths quiet as she approached. It was as if she’d snatched the air from his lungs by mere virtue of her presence.
When he finally spoke, the words were bitter. “It’s my birthday. I’m nineteen.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond. It was painfully clear that he didn’t want her well-wishes. “If I didn’t know better, I would say it feels prudent to offer my condolences.”
“I’ll accept them, if you must offer.”
He didn’t look at her, nor she at him, yet Zaria’s entire body was aflame with the awareness that often accompanied his scrutiny. She swallowed. “Then I am sorry to hear you’re another year older.”
Kane pulled back from the railing and wrapped his fingers around it instead. “What am I doing, Zaria?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I don’t know what I’m living for.” His voice retained that bleak quality, though now with an edge of desperation.
“I dared to love the man who murdered my parents, and then I killed him, too. All I have left is this… role, and I don’t know how to do it properly.
I feel as though I’m drowning.” He grew harsher as he went on.
“I try to hollow myself out, thinking perhaps it will enable me to float, but I only seem to sink faster. I hate the person I’ve become, yet I know it’s my own fault, and I can’t help wondering if I’m simply destined to resent myself. And then, there’s—you.”
Kane cut off so abruptly that it took Zaria a moment to absorb the final sentence. She couldn’t remember when he had turned to face her—his eyes were wild, his pupils blown wide. She liked him this way, she realized with a jolt: Authentic. Desperate. Entirely undone.
“What about me?” she demanded, but her voice broke.
Kane’s knuckles whitened on the railing. He grasped the iron like it was the sole thing tethering him to reality. “You should go back inside.”
“Not until you finish what you were going to say.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” she said fiercely, frustration suddenly overwhelming all else.
Her hands were fists at her side, her face only inches from his.
“I’m so tired, Kane. I’m tired of you trying to convince us both that you don’t care about me.
Do you know what I think? I think you gave me the necklace because you couldn’t bear the thought of me suffering.
I think you care so much, it frightens you.
Infuriates you. That’s why you can’t bring yourself to be honest for a single goddamned moment. ”
His nostrils flared, cheeks hollowing. A vein had appeared at his temple. His eyes seemed to roll back as he took a deep breath. Then he exhaled, flexing his fingers as he met her gaze once more. “Zaria, do you seriously believe—”
“Tell me I’m wrong, Kane.”
“Is your ego truly so—”
“Tell me!” she snarled, thrusting a palm against his chest and splaying her fingers over the damp fabric of his shirt. His skin was hot beneath it, his heart thrumming a frantic tattoo.
He went perfectly, immediately still, save for the muscle ticking in his jaw.
Then, so fast Zaria didn’t have time to react, he reached up and grabbed her wrist, pushing her hand more firmly into his chest. Keeping it there.
This time, her index finger found the bare skin of his sternum, and she bit back a gasp.
“Why do you do this?” Kane was all but vibrating with emotion.
“What good will it do for me to be honest? What is it that you want to hear? Do you want me to say you’ve monopolized my thoughts since the very first day we met?
That I am tormented by the fact that I care for you when I shouldn’t?
You’re so stunningly alive, and yet somehow you still manage to haunt me.
Neither of us can fully trust the other, but I want your trust nonetheless.
I yearn for it. Do you know how foolish that makes me feel?
Not only because you detest me, but because even if you didn’t, we could never be together. ”
Zaria’s mouth was dry. She had forgotten how to breathe, and it took her a moment to gather enough air to whisper, “Why not?”
He gave a jerking, helpless wave. “Because I’m this.
Because it’s too late for me to be anything but this.
Even if you wanted me, I wouldn’t let you have me, Zaria, because I know you deserve better.
I’m not the kind of man who can be saved, or changed, or cared for in any way that matters.
I know you fear me. I know that, and I need it that way, because if you gave me a single ounce of your affection again, I don’t think I would recover. ”
Zaria’s chest ached. It felt as if her rib cage had tightened around her heart, squeezing in such a way that she felt on the verge of choking. She hated it, she realized—hated that Kane perceived himself like this.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s too late for you to be anything but what you are.
I can’t save you any more than you can undo the things I find reprehensible.
But you’re not right about everything.” Carefully, she disentangled her wrist from his fingers to lay her hand against his cheek.
He inhaled sharply; his face was as warm as his chest. “You’re wrong to say that I fear you.
Maybe I should, and maybe I’m foolish, but I always want to be near you more than I want to run from you.
” Now it was her face that heated. “Because I do want you.”
Kane released a shuddering exhale, leaning into her touch as he closed his eyes. “Zaria—”
“No. Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. I know how I feel, Kane.
I know it’s not smart or realistic or easy to understand.
I don’t understand it myself.” She let her hand trail down to cup the side of his neck, feeling the slight ridge of his tattoo.
Her voice fell to scarcely a whisper. “But I want you.”
He brought his forehead to hers, his pulse jumping in his throat. His next breath was uneven. Hesitantly, he twisted a lock of her hair around his fingers, then gave it a gentle tug, forcing her to tilt her head back. He pressed his lips to the delicate flesh just beneath her ear.
“Don’t,” he murmured against her skin. “Don’t say that. I can’t come back from that.”
A shiver rippled through her. “I want you,” she gasped.
“Zaria.”
She could hear the agony and longing in the way he said her name, and lifted her chin. “I want you, Kane.”
He groaned, his hand sliding to the middle of her back. It set her skin alight. “Why?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question a thousand times, and I don’t know. I don’t have an answer. Why does it matter?”
“Because you and I both know there’s no universe in which this works out between us. There’s no happy ending.”
“I don’t care about a happy ending,” Zaria said fiercely. “I’m only asking for right now.”
His thumb stroked her cheek, and if she hadn’t already lost all semblance of rational thought, she might have been embarrassed by how hot her skin was. Instead, she was only determined. Focused. On him.
“Don’t make me call you a coward again,” she whispered.
He didn’t. He didn’t make her say another word, in fact. He only yanked her body into his, letting her melt against his chest as his mouth claimed hers.
Zaria could feel it at once—the way in which this kiss was different.
It was still intense but less aggressive, unburdened by resentment and lacking the bitterness of regret.
This, she thought as he spun her away from the balcony, was Kane at his least guarded.
She could feel the truth of everything he’d said in the heat of his touch, the gentle score of his teeth on her lower lip.
He kissed her like it was his sole purpose.
Like everything that had come before this was inconsequential.
Like he was desperate to prove it to her.
Zaria didn’t need convincing. She clung to Kane as if separating might kill them both.
The memory of his body against hers paled next to the real thing.
His hands found her hips as her arms twined around his neck, pulling his face down to hers.
It was seamless, somehow. Instinctive. Her head spun, and were it not for her feet on the ground, she wouldn’t have known which way was up.
There’s no happy ending, Kane had said, and perhaps he was right.
What Zaria had said, though, was just as true: She didn’t care.
They could have filled the Crystal Palace with all the reasons they weren’t good for each other, each displayed in stark clarity to those looking on, but she didn’t care, she didn’t care.
And as Kane lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him, Zaria thought that if the world began to burn at this very minute, she wouldn’t have cared much about that, either.