Chapter 22
Kiara lay beside me, her snoring and the turning of pages the only sounds in the room.
The books were also a good excuse to avoid going downstairs and being near Zion.
The problem was that after he returned with the pads, I noticed he went on high alert every time he caught the scent of blood.
So I chose to stay in my room because his restless glances made me uncomfortable.
Sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of a shadow or two slipping under the door, but when I turned to engage with them, they'd hurry out of the room.
Zion was like a mother dragon brooding over an egg, and every few minutes I'd hear his footsteps in the hallway.
But it wasn't the footsteps that gave away what he was doing.
What made my eyes roll with each patrol was the fact that he wasn't containing his power—he'd simply let his aura loose throughout the house, and the weight of it became unbearably oppressive for anyone within a hundred-meter radius.
Since I was his partner, it didn't affect me negatively, but I felt all that energy in my bones.
It was strange and uncomfortable, but this was a peculiarity of fae males, a way of marking their territory.
If Zion were a dog, he'd probably be pissing all over the house.
The power was something alive, pulsing through the walls and echoing in every physical atom.
I spent the whole afternoon mentally cataloging how this could cause a large-scale tragedy; power like this would be lethal in the wrong hands.
I didn't even know how he managed to contain all of it—I'd never experienced such strength.
That whole display only proved how right Ambrose was. Fae males went absolutely crazy during periods, and I couldn't believe he actually thought that scandalous show of force was necessary.
Clearing my mind to stop dwelling on how unnecessary it all was, I grabbed my phone once more.
I couldn't stop checking it for a response from Breno.
He hadn't responded to the message I'd sent earlier, so I sent another one.
Actually, I sent twenty messages and waited, waited, waited, but no response came.
Now I feared our friendship wasn't just on hold—maybe it had been permanently severed.
May the gods help me if that happened. I couldn't lose Breno like this.
At 10 p.m., tired of reading and with my stomach growling, I ordered food, since Zion wouldn't eat anything I made. I opened the door and looked down the hallway, confirming he wasn't there, but I felt the pulsing power coming from the stairs, so I shouted in that direction:
“Zion, a delivery guy will be here soon. Can you please dial back this insane parade so you don't scare him?”
In response, the air felt less heavy, but it was still monstrous.
“Less, Zion!” I exclaimed, exasperated. “This isn't a contest to show off your territorial alpha potential. It won't hurt your ego to keep your aura at normal levels.”
I heard a hoarse laugh from downstairs, and soon the power was muffled almost completely. I still felt his presence, but now it was within acceptable limits.
“Thank you!” I shouted down the hallway, and no response came.
I closed the door and went to the bathroom to change the pad.
It needed to be changed every hour because fae menstrual flow was nothing like a human's.
We lose half of all the blood circulating in our bodies in less than twenty-four hours, and my healing power couldn't ease it since it was a natural cycle for my body.
A bit scary, but I was already prepared.
Despite still being at the beginning, I already felt my body growing heavier and sleepier.
The doorbell rang and I heard Zion answer the door.
I watched the street through the glass wall, and in less than two minutes saw the poor human speed off on his motorcycle.
I rolled my eyes. Of course Zion would scare the delivery guy.
Then, as soon as I heard the door close, I went downstairs.
Zion was separating the pizzas and glanced at me sideways.
“I thought you'd keep hiding in your room,” he said, placing slices on plates.
“No. I care about the hallway floor—one more hour of your patrols and it would've worn through,” I replied, stealing a tomato from his plate while checking my phone again.
“What's so interesting on that thing? If I got a dune for every time you looked at it, I wouldn't be able to carry them all in my pockets.”
He was trying to seem relaxed, but I noticed the concern in his eyes. And that only proved he was indeed spying on me with the shadows.
“I'm waiting for a message from Breno. He's furious with me.”
I felt Zion's posture shift, as if he were instinctively bracing for an argument at the sound of my friend's name.
“Why?”
“Because Adele told him about the bond.” On second thought, another question came to mind. “How does she know? Did you tell her anything?”
Zion frowned, glancing at me sideways.
“Ivanov must have found that information when he investigated your mind and probably told Adele.”
I felt hatred corroding my insides.
“Isn't that illegal? He shouldn't be rummaging through my mind whenever he feels like it—that's my privacy!”
Zion laughed, but this time it was a dry, ironic laugh that sent a shiver up my spine.
“There's no such thing as privacy when it comes to psychics.”
It seemed like he wasn't just talking about Ivanov. I was dying to ask about that statement, but I didn't want to ruin our evening, so I pushed the thoughts aside while he separated the pizza slices with a knife.
Zion didn't need to hold a knife to be threatening.
Every angle of his body already broadcast that, along with his terrifying aura of power.
Despite his size, I'd never considered him a threat, and it was strange that I actually enjoyed confronting him—with most other people, I was just afraid of getting into trouble.
In that moment, I realized I felt comfortable with him, even though he was the biggest pain in the ass and there were worlds of difference between us.
I knew what he did, knew about his work and responsibilities, but I simply couldn't hate him, and that left me even more confused about him.
Maybe it was just my emotional neediness—obviously, someone who grew up alone would cling to any scrap of affection—or it could be some effect of the bond.
But in that moment, I felt good and didn't want to ruin it, even if it was just a truce.
Even if it was just a lie.
Zion cleared his throat to get my attention, and I blinked, pushing the melancholy thoughts aside.
“I'm sorry about your friend. I'm sure he'll forgive you—true friendships don't end over things like that.”
I let a smile slip at the gentleness he showed toward Breno, even though he didn't like the guy.
That reminded me of the photo on the sideboard, and when I looked at it, I noticed it was lying face down.
A small pang of pain spread through my chest, and I pulled back, not wanting to let it affect our day. Sooner or later I'd ask, but not now.
I watched him fuss with the pizza while the shadows peeked over his shoulders. As he put together the plate, I winked at them. The little ones squirmed in a frenzy, practically erupting on the spot. Zion looked at me curiously and caught me smiling at the shadows.
“Just what I needed—shadows learning to flirt.”
“They're adorable,” I murmured, moving closer.
The little ones clustered on his left shoulder. They were so cute I couldn't ignore them. I held out my palm, and they scurried up my arms to settle there, playing with my hair. Zion handed me the plate, and I headed to the couch. He sat at the table.
“Want to watch a movie with me?” I asked, already turning on the TV and picking a cheesy romance. Kiara immediately perked up.
“I don't really know much about movies,” Zion replied, devouring a slice of pizza. I stared, open-mouthed, but controlled my surprise. “My tutor always thought they were a waste of time. He preferred to fill my schedule with training and strategy books.”
I imagined a young Zion never having time for fun, his head always filled with combat and strategy. It was sad, and obviously, that was how he'd become the best assassin in the army.
“Then come watch with me! There's a really good one about the war between gorgons and faerics,” I called to him, sitting on the edge of the couch and patting the cushion beside me to show he was welcome.
I felt a pang of sadness remembering this was Breno's favorite series—I'd always refused to watch it with him, afraid he'd try something romantic and I'd have to turn him down.
“Wouldn't that be seen as glorifying war between races?” He frowned but stood up, interested.
“No, since the whole point of the film is to show that wars are bad and peace benefits both sides.”
Zion gave up on the plate and brought the entire pizza box, setting it between us.
“And how, exactly, is peace achieved in this film?” he asked, arching his left eyebrow.
“You'll have to watch and find out.”
I felt anxious about this moment, and my hands could barely stay still.
During the years the general had been away, I hadn't allowed myself to invite anyone else into the house—out of respect for him, and also because I didn't have many friends.
Just Breno, who would certainly get the wrong idea.
If Zion felt anything like anxiety, he was masking it perfectly, because he dropped his massive body onto the couch and kept eating his pizza.
“I'd forgotten how good it feels to be home, without having to worry about phone calls and war stuff,” he said, looking relaxed. He glanced down at the slice he was nibbling and added, “Not to mention eating junk food.”
“Did you really go five years without a break?” I asked, curious about his life.
“Yes.”