Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Zavian stood outside Bluebird Cafe, the late winter chill brushing against his skin like a soft yet persistent reminder that even he wasn’t immune to nature’s bite.
The faint noise of a misfiring truck in the distance rumbled through the crisp air, mingling with the sounds of chatter from inside the café. The slight breeze rattled nearby planters of poinsettias hanging on lampposts, remnants of the holiday that had been celebrated a few weeks ago.
The irresistible blend of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries teased his senses, a touch of warmth against the cold that demanded his attention.
Inhaling the delicious aromas, Zavian glanced down at the yellow Post-it Note stuck to his palm—Hendrix’s number written in bold, confident strokes. He’d told himself at least three times now to throw the damn thing away, but the paper must have morphed into bonding cement, because it refused to leave his hand.
“I’m not keeping this,” he muttered to himself, though his fingers curled protectively around the stupid thing.
With a resigned sigh, Zavian pushed through the cafe door, the bell above jingling softly. Inside, the air was warmer, richer. It smelled of roasted coffee beans, sugary frosting, and just a hint of citrus—probably from the decadent cake on display. Couples and small groups of friends filled the tables and booths, laughter and murmured conversations creating a cozy cacophony that wrapped around the room.
His gaze landed on a couple nestled on a couch by the fireplace, their bodies leaning into each other as if they couldn’t get close enough. The man had his arm draped over the woman’s shoulder, his hand splayed protectively across her arm. The woman’s head rested on his chest, a contented smile playing on her lips. Zavian didn’t need to see the faint curve of her belly to know she was pregnant. It was written in the glow of their shared happiness.
His lips twitched at the edges, almost forming a smile before he forced them into their usual flat line.
See? He knew what the hell he was doing. Moments like this were the reason he didn’t just quit and let the cosmos unravel into chaos.
His decrees worked.
Turning, Zavian stilled, glancing at the spot where he and Hendrix had stood yesterday, replaying their interaction in his head. He could still see Hendrix’s smile as he teased Zavian about his mantra—could still smell his sandalwood scent, as if it was invading his senses at that very moment, and could hear the deep rumble of the lion shifter’s voice like the guy was standing right next to him.
Shaking off the feeling, Zavian headed to the counter.
“What can I get for you?” Ajax asked with a warm smile. It held no pretense, just as genuine as the man wearing it.
“I’ll have a medium dark roast, one sugar, and five shots of espresso.”
One of Ajax’s brows rose. “ Five ?”
Zavian gave him a look that said “What’s the big deal?”
The wolf shifter shrugged and mumbled, “Get ready to paint your entire house, buddy.”
For the second time in five minutes, the side of Zavian’s mouth quirked. If he stayed in the café much longer, he just might crack a smile.
God forbid.
When Ajax turned back around, he held the cup out, but pulled it back when Zavian tried to grab it. “In good conscience, I have to give you this with a warning label. You don’t have a heart condition, do you?”
It’s been frozen for eons. “No.”
But Ajax’s concern touched him. He saw the man’s entire life, past, present, and future. A lot of the past was tragic, but he’d mated, his life now at peace.
Proof once again that Zavian knew what he was doing. “Thanks.”
After paying, he headed for the door, the rich aroma of his coffee drifting deep into his lungs, causing him to finally feel a bit relaxed.
The power of coffee was unparalleled, soothing even the most battered souls.
Until he caught sight of a familiar figure walking down the street, heading in his direction.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Zavian hissed under his breath. Was that…? Oh, no. Not here. Not now. That could not be him.
But it was.
Melric was strolling along the sidewalk, glancing into shop windows, his too-tight pants and oversized fur-trimmed jacket making him look like a five-foot-six-inch menace on steroids.
At least his fashion fit his personality.
Six hundred years ago, Zavian had been the worst kind of idiot. He’d thought Melric was the “one” and had even gone so far as to make the human immortal.
Biggest mistake of his eternal existence.
Was it possible to go back in time and smack his own self around? Maybe drop-kick a planet into his own head so he would wake up and see what Melric was doing? Or more precisely, who he was doing?
A month after they’d started dating, the guy acted as if they were attached at the hip, accusing him of cheating and having epic meltdowns when Zavian had to leave to fulfill his duties.
Truthfully, he’d just needed to get away from the suffocating pressure of Melric’s constant need for attention.
The guy was too clingy, not just in private but grabbing and groping in public. When Melric started to make plans for their future together, Zavian knew he had to end things before his anger flared to the point he risked unweaving the carefully arranged strings of destiny.
But he wasn’t a coldhearted prick, contrary to the belief of some. He’d done the right thing by very gently stating that he wasn’t feeling them anymore and it was time to move on.
Zavian was pretty sure the image of a witch burning at the stake had been born from Melric’s reaction to their relationship ending.
But the little shit proved hard to shake. How could Zavian be the second most powerful being, but a short, slim twinkish male made him duck out of sight so he wouldn’t be spotted?
Which was exactly what he was doing now because Zavian didn’t want this quaint little town turned into a shitshow. Melric didn’t care if he made a scene. He’d proven that every time he found Zavian, which was roughly every two hundred years. If Melric unleashed, it would be a spectacle not soon forgotten.
The guy’s mouth was even more toxic than his personality. You could bleed to death from his razor-sharp tongue.
Frustratingly, going invisible would do Zavian no good. He’d made Melric immortal—a decision he deeply regretted—so the guy could see him regardless.
Melric paused outside a boutique, adjusting his scarf with a theatrical flair, and Zavian felt his stomach drop. He quickly ducked to the side of the building, cursing as he dropped his coffee. Of course he had. One day he’d actually get to drink it.
“I can see you, darling,” Melric sang out, sugary sweet. The magnetism in his voice was undeniable, even as it promised destruction. “Stop acting like a baby and come out.”
Grant me the patience for the things I can’t kill, the happiness to kill the things I can, and the wisdom to actually give a shit about the first one.
With a deep breath, he stepped into view, his expression hard as granite. “What do you want, Melric?”
The guy’s pout was immediate, his hand resting on his hip in indignation. “To see you, of course. It’s been too long. Don’t you miss me?” He stepped closer, reaching out, but Zavian snarled, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Granting him immortality might’ve also given him immunity to Zavian’s powers—another deep regret—but he would be damn if allowed unwanted touching.
And Melric’s touch was as unwanted as the plague.
The guy froze mid-motion, his eyes narrowing. “Who is it? Who are you sleeping with? Is that why you’re being so cold to me?”
His voice carried a controlled fury, like a storm restrained by sheer force of will, every syllable laced with the kind of danger that made you question your choices.
Zavian sure as hell questioned his when it came to this menace. He also wished he was getting laid. “My personal life is not your concern. If I recall, you’re the one who—”
“Tell me right now!” Melric demanded, his tone turning shrill.
“Do not speak to me that way.” Zavian’s mist began to curl upward, and he felt his demonic side rearing its head, his features beginning to contort.
“Don’t you dare go all feral on me,” Melric shot back. Then he collapsed into a tirade, the words so toxic the café should have crumbled under the barrage of hair-raising insults.
Everything around Zavian began to tremble—trees shaking, the sidewalk buckling—his wrath growing.
Until he spotted a police car approaching.
Zavian quickly yanked in his powers, remembering he was in the earth realm where he could easily destroy the entire town if he didn’t calm down.
The cruiser, with its lights swirling, pulled to the curb. Deputies Morgan Savani and Wyatt Birch stepped out, their postures relaxed but ready.
In seconds Zavian knew both of their entire lives. Sometimes the ability felt like a curse, especially knowing how both their mates had suffered before finding peace with the two deputies.
Their devotion to their mates was something Zavian envied, causing a small ache in his chest. He was fate, weaving people together, creating anchors that transcended time itself, yet… The ache grew a little stronger.
“Everything okay here?” Deputy Birch asked, the cheetah shifter’s gaze flicking between Zavian and Melric. Neither deputy could sense what Zavian was, both assuming they were dealing with two humans.
And that was how he wanted it. He’d learned long ago to conceal his true identity. Whenever it was revealed, he was either cursed at or pleaded with to make someone rich, famous, or something else that would alter the path he had already placed them on before they were even born.
Balance had to be maintained, the rules followed, or the cosmos would unravel. Zavian’s leeway was limited.
Which was why he needed to figure Hendrix out. The unknown variable could be a string that could unravel everything.
“This—” Zavian began, but Melric cut him off with a dramatic wail that threatened to make his ears bleed.
“He’s my ex, and he’s being so mean! I know he’s sleeping with someone else!” Melric didn’t hold back—huge tears, high-pitched voice, swaying like he was going to faint. If Zavian rolled his eyes any harder, they would fall out.
Deputy Savani raised a brow, glancing briefly at Zavian before his attention returned to Melric, his deep voice steady. “You just said he’s your ex.”
But Deputy Birch placed himself between Zavian and Melric, as if Zavian really was a threat to the dramatic little shit.
“Your point?” Melric glared at the polar bear shifter.
Savani’s jaw ticked, like he was barely restraining his rage at Melric’s snide tone. Zavian knew exactly how the guy felt. Melric just made you want to throat-hug him.
“My point,” the deputy replied, almost gritting his teeth, “is that you two are no longer together, so I don’t see how his personal life is any of your concern.”
Exactly. Honestly, Zavian could have simply made the two get into their cruiser and drive away, but he was curious to see how this would play out.
Was he that twisted? Apparently.
Melric’s response was to throw a full-blown tantrum, complete with foot stomping and finger-pointing. “You can’t talk to me like that! Do you know who I am?”
Who did Melric think he was, royalty, a well-known celebrity? Of course the police officers didn’t know him from Adam.
“Don’t really care,” Savani said dryly. Zavian almost cracked a smile at the irritation on the polar bear’s face, feeling the man’s pain of dealing with Melric.
“I’m Fate’s boyfriend, you dimwitted troll!” Melric jabbed a finger at Zavian. It was mind-boggling how people like Melric actually existed. Entitled, spoiled, narcissistic individuals who thought life should bow down to them.
Life. Zavian curled his lip as he thought of Panahasi.
“I’m going to ask you politely to refrain from calling me names.” Savani pointed a beefy finger at Melric. The guy was three times Melric’s build, towering over him, yet Melric clearly had no sense of self-preservation. He launched himself at the massive shifter, causing Zavian’s brows to climb into his hairline.
That was a first. The he-devil normally didn’t attack others, not physically. His mouth was another matter.
With the quickness of a cheetah, Deputy Birch had Melric in his grasp, slamming the twink against the hood of the cruiser. “Tell me you didn’t just try to attack my partner.”
“It’s always the short, wiry ones,” Savani grumbled.
“Use your fucking powers and get them off of me!” Melric shrieked.
Since neither deputy could sense what Zavian was, he simply arched a brow, as if Melric was delusional.
“Let go of me, you brute!” Melric kicked furiously as Birch cuffed him.
“You’re only adding charges.” Birch shook his head. “Trying to attack my partner isn’t the brightest idea.”
“I’ll make you pay for this!” Melric spat, twisting in the cuffs.
The guy was simply unreal. Zavian wondered how people like Melric truly existed. Then again, he knew, since he could read someone’s life. The reason was always tangled in tragedy.
But the extreme ones, like Melric, had other factors at play. The guy before him was a genuine psychopath.
A fact Zavian had chosen to ignore when he’d met him. Maybe he was the broken one. A person who would overlook such a glaring issue just so he wouldn’t have to feel the vast emptiness of being alone.
Of being nothing more than a concept, of never being truly seen.
Zavian cleared his throat, forcing those unwanted and vulnerable feelings back down into the deep depths where they belonged. He was a powerful entity, wielding great strength but hated, feared, and cursed at.
He didn’t need anyone, least of all someone like Hendrix.
Melric . He meant to think of Melric’s name.
Savani sighed, opening the cruiser door. “I’m sure you will make us pay. Get in.”
“You’ll pay for this, Zavian,” Melric said in a tight, malicious tone. “You’ll never know peace. Not after what you’ve done to me.”
The pure hatred in his eyes was a promise etched in stone.
“And I wish you could know a moment of its beauty,” Zavian murmured.
“Fuck you,” Melric snarled before he was carefully tucked into the backseat.
Empathy warred with unadulterated fury for the guy. On the one hand, what Melric was wasn’t his fault. He was born that way. On the other, fuck the psycho little bitch.
“You okay?” Savani’s deep voice was filled with genuine compassion. The polar bear truly loved his job and cared about the community and its people.
But Zavian was so far away from good that it resided on another planet. He simply nodded.
Birch shook his head after closing the cruiser door. “That’s one hell of an ex you’ve got there. You need a drink after dealing with him?”
“Or a restraining order?” Savani added, his gaze darting from Zavian to Melric who was still cursing in the backseat.
Zavian allowed a faint twitch of his lips. “Or a lobotomy.”
The men softly chuckled, sympathy in their gazes.
“We’ll need you to come down to the station to file a report.”
Which Zavian wouldn’t do. That would make him seem as if he actually needed protection from a hysterical human who weighed no more than a buck-twenty soaking wet. Aldrin and Panahasi would ridicule Zavian until the end of time if they ever found out that Melric was the bane of his existence.
Then he just might let the demon leader end the world.
Or Zavian would.
Then you would be ending Hendrix .
Zavian just couldn’t catch a goddamn break. “Yeah. I’ll be down there.”
The deputies gave him nods before climbing into the cruiser. As they pulled away, Melric’s muffled threats faded into the distance.
Zavian stood there for a long moment, staring at the retreating car, knowing he hadn’t seen the last of that nightmare.
Then he remembered the Post-it Note still clutched in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the paper vanished, dissolving into nothingness.
He didn’t need any more complications in his life, and the lion shifter was a massive complication.
For a brief moment, he thought that was the end of it. But when he glanced at his hand again, the note was back, crumpled slightly but there. Zavian made the yellow piece of paper vanish again, but it refused to stay gone.
He tossed it into the nearest trash can and continued walking but felt its tiny weight fill his shirt pocket like a scrap of truth that refused to be denied.