Chapter 52
I’m still wedged between Zeke and Sterling, my head on Zeke’s stomach with Sterling pressed against my back, nestled into the crook of Zeke’s arm. It’s more than I ever could have imagined, more than I could have hoped for.
All three of us are exhausted, spent. But there’s nothing but joy and satisfaction amidst us. The realization makes me nuzzle against Zeke’s abdomen, the dusting of black hair trailing down the length of his stomach tickling my cheek.
I close my eyes, noticing for the first time the slight pitter-patter of rain outside the window.
I don’t know when it started, but judging by the low, distant rumble beyond the panes of glass, it will soon be a full downpour.
For now, it’s the perfect addition to a perfect moment, and I breathe in deeply, relishing the feel of it.
“Check in,” Zeke murmurs.
“Hmm?” I lift my head the tiniest amount, barely registering the words in my lust-filled haze.
Sterling chuckles, trailing his fingers up and down my spine. “It’s something we do after a scene, Angel. Especially if it was particularly . . . intense. Just to make sure everyone is okay with what happened.”
“I’m good.” I nod, turning over to look at Sterling and wiggling back against Zeke.
Sterling sits up a little, making room for me, and I realize both males have their eyes glued to me.
“Better than good.” I laugh, closing my eyes and scrunching my face.
“That was . . . gods. I don’t even know if I have words to explain what that was. But yes, I’m good.”
“And you’d . . . want to do it—again?” Zeke’s voice is soft, hesitant as he speaks behind me, into my hair.
Gone is the dominating, intense male that claimed me mere minutes ago.
This version of him is stripped down, bare, vulnerable.
It’s a rare glance at that side of him, and I want to bottle it up and keep it forever.
I look back over my shoulder, eying him for a moment and making a show of mulling the question over. I see the terror in his eyes and burst out laughing. “Yes, Ezekiel. I would very much like to do that again.”
Sterling joins me in laughing, but Zeke just lets loose the breath he was holding.
“Fuck, Evangeline. I thought for a moment you were going to deny me.”
“And what would happen if I did?” I tease, smirking up into those beautiful azure eyes.
He wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer to him and locking me into his hold. “Then that would put me in a very precarious position.”
I raise an eyebrow at Sterling and he leans in, kissing Zeke’s lips beside my cheek. “Tell her why,” he whispers as he pulls away.
Zeke casts a sidelong glance at Sterling, one full of playful irritation, before looking back down at me and planting a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. “Because I’m fundamentally against kidnapping. But I fear I’d have to make an exception if you tried to leave us.”
I hum, letting my smirk turn into a mischievous grin. “Some could argue you’ve already broken your rules by bringing me here.”
Zeke scoffs, feigning offense.
I wiggle my arm out of his grip and slap at his chest. “Come on, you have to admit. What you did was basically kidnapping.”
“It wasn’t in the slightest,” he argues back.
“Sterling.” I turn to him, appalled at his sudden silence. “Tell him I’m right.”
“Oh no, I’m staying out of this one.”
I scoff. “Coward.”
Sterling scoots in, biting playfully at my shoulder. “Such courageous words for a female trapped between two predators.”
I giggle, leaning into the feel of his teeth against my skin and let loose a breathy moan.
“Uh uh.” Zeke shuts us down. “She needs sleep. We all do. And then we need to go hunting tomorrow, because all three of us could use the fresh blood.”
“Me too?” I ask, surprised at my hopefulness to be included.
“You too,” Zeke echoes, a soft smile playing at his lips. “It’s time you learn. And how to defend yourself. Consider tomorrow day one of your training.”
My grin is slow, splitting across my face from ear to ear as I stare up at him.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted what he’s offering, until he offered it.
But the idea of being accepted, believed in, trusted enough to think I can handle myself out there.
Can handle whatever training might look like. It means the world to me.
“But first, sleep,” he orders. But there’s no bite to his words.
“Okay,” I mumble, but the grin stays plastered across my face as I nestle down between them and drift off to sleep to the subtle tap of raindrops against glass.
I bolt upright, a tremendous thunderclap pulling me from sleep. Sterling is still passed out beside me, but Zeke is gone. I tiptoe through the room to find one of the bags tucked into the far corner and rifle around until I find something vaguely T-shirt shaped to slip on.
Lightning strikes as I stand, making me jump as it illuminates the room. I stifle the scream building in my throat and freeze for several moments to make sure neither I nor the lightning woke Sterling. When he doesn’t stir, I slip out the door.
Zeke is sitting at the kitchen table, the rifle laid across his knees, with his eyes peeled to the world beyond the bay window. I pad on bare feet across the living room and into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I call softly, not wanting to startle him.
He turns his attention to me, breathing in deeply, as if I just woke him up. “Hey,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Sorry to disturb you.” I offer an apologetic smile. “Couldn’t sleep.” I motion to the storm raging outside.
“No." He waves me off. “You’re not disturbing anything, Angel. I couldn’t sleep either. These storms tend to stir up the magic within the WildLands. Wanted to make sure nothing got too close to the cabin.”
I nod, as if I understand what he’s talking about.
But I know I don’t. Him and Sterling, they're the ones that have been out here before, who've experienced firsthand whatever horrors are buried in those trees. I count myself lucky to not understand that evil, but part of me wishes I did. Just so I’d be prepared like he is.
“Do you think we have anything to worry about?” I ask, sliding into the chair closest to me and peering out the window into the treacherous, stormy night.
“Nah." He shakes his head. “Just another night in the WildLands. What could go wrong?” I turn to look at him and he smiles, but his eyes look concentrated, concerned. “Come here,” he says, setting the rifle on the table.
I obey, slipping silently from my chair to his lap. I curl up into a ball, feeling suddenly cold from the wind leaking through the cabin. It’s howling around us, so strong I fear it might bring the walls down to the foundation.
“How can Sterling sleep through this?” I ask, shaking my head and squirming closer against Zeke’s chest. He strokes his fingers idly up and down my back, pressing a kiss to my forehead with a small snicker.
“One thing you need to know about Sterling? That bastard could sleep through a hurricane. He sleeps like a fucking rock. Something I’ve always been jealous of, actually.”
I force a laugh, but another round of lightning strikes, so close that the thunder is almost immediate. I squeeze my eyes shut and Zeke tightens his hold on me.
He leans in, finding my ear and whispering to me. “I don’t know what’s turning me on more—the sight of you in my shirt, or the fear I can smell on you.”
I wriggle in response, noticing the half hard length of him against my hip, and smile.
The thunder feels never-ending, going on and on till every ounce of arousal is stolen from me and I’m sure the cabin is going to come down around us.
Just as it's finally fading, more follows.
I brace, pinching my eyes closed, when Zeke suddenly lifts me off his lap.
“Evangeline, get back in the bedroom,” he says tightly.
“What?” I ask. But Zeke is on his feet already, grabbing the rifle off the table and jumping around it to look deeper into the night beyond the window.
“Now,” he orders. I spring into motion, jumping as another bolt of lightning lights up the cabin. I scurry across the living room and through the doorway of the bedroom, angling myself behind the door so I can still see him.
He backs away from the window, standing in the entryway as he waits.
“Zeke, what is it?” I half whisper.
He lifts a finger, his eyes tracing over invisible things in the air, all around him. Then in one swift motion, he throws the front door open and aims his rifle into the stormy night. I cringe back, bracing myself for the shot I’m sure is coming. But nothing happens.
I ease myself out from behind the door, crouching behind the sofa as Zeke steps onto the porch. “Who’s there? Show yourself!" He calls out with as much authority as I think exists in his bones.
Several moments of silence pass and I stand, inching forward slowly—desperate to make sure he’s okay. “Zeke?” I call out.
He doesn’t answer and I inch forward again.
“Oh fuck,” I hear him curse over the heavy downpour of rain.
“Zeke!” I call out again, scared of what I will find once I step into the path of the door. It’s right there. Two more steps, one more, and I’ll see whatever horrors are awaiting us on the other side. I swallow, forcing a breath of air into my lungs as I step up to the threshold.
Zeke is on the porch, gun raised, as a dark silhouette stumbles forward.
I watch in slow motion as whatever it is takes the steps one at a time.
Half walking, half dragging as it deposits a crumpled form onto the porch.
But it’s not till Zeke sets down the rifle and runs to help the creature that my eyes begin to make sense of what I’m seeing.
It’s Quinn, standing on our porch, in the middle of the WildLands—soaking wet.
“Quinn,” I breathe. But the moment of sweet relief is short-lived as I rush forward, standing in the doorway. I fall to my knees, a sob stuck in my throat as I finally understand.
Because now I can see why Zeke rushed to help him. Why he cursed when he opened the door. Dragging between the two of them, barely being held up despite the efforts of both males, is a bloodied, beaten—lifeless—Aamon.