Chapter 3 - Zane
I don’t know what the hell came over me.
I’ve replayed the moment in my head at least a dozen times since we left the warehouse, and even now, it doesn’t make any sense.
In the past, I’ve walked away from worse. Operations that went sideways, from people I couldn’t save regardless of how hard I tried, and from situations that forced me to use restraint over instinct. That’s what I was trained to do.
Acting on impulse was how you got yourself and others killed. Instead of listening to that philosophy, I bid millions for someone in a room full of dangerous people just because of one glance and a past I still haven’t escaped.
Naia sits with a rigid spine in the passenger seat, arms crossed, with her eyes fixed on the passing buildings like she’s trying to find and memorize a path back to the island.
My jaw tightens, well aware of how stupid it was of me to throw myself in the middle of the chaos and reveal my hand, all because it was her. If it had been some other wolf I didn’t know, maybe I would’ve stuck to the plan and gathered intel without inserting myself directly.
That shouldn’t have been enough to make me jeopardize my personal mission, but it was.
The second I saw her on that stage, angry, defiant, yet still unbroken, something clicked into place.
Before I could stop myself, I had already committed and made a move I can’t take back now. Still, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done, and I’m not handing her back now, even if she plans on making this as difficult as possible.
Pulling in a breath, I sneak a glance in her direction while taking a turn. “Are you planning on glaring out the window the whole time?”
“I’m planning on ignoring you,” she mutters, not bothering to look at me. Figures.
I huff to myself. “You’re feistier than I remember.”
Without fail, that gets her attention, and her head whips in my direction. “Or maybe you just didn’t pay attention back then.”
The accusation settles in deeper than I want it to, because there’s truth in it.
I was leaving, even before I actually left. I was counting the days, planning my exit, and looking forward instead of focusing on what was around me. I wasn’t paying attention to anyone else but myself, her included.
Pushing the thought aside, I clear my throat. “Trust me, I noticed.”
Naia’s expression falters for a beat before hardening again. “Save it.”
As much as I wanted to think time wouldn’t change things too drastically between us, it obviously has. Those walls of hers are higher than they used to be, and while the girl I remember certainly used to push back, there had always been a lightness to it.
Rather than a challenging spark, this is something else. There’s a controlled fire in her, and those sharpened edges can surely cut if she’s provoked enough.
The military did that to me, and it seems Wraith Peak did the same to her.
Pulling into the underground parking of my building a few minutes later, I cut the engine, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
Then, Naia murmurs, “I’m not staying. Unlock the door.”
I look at her, not moving to do exactly that. “Not a chance.”
Her eyes narrow. “Zane.”
“Naia,” I return, calm but firm. “I know you can’t shift right now. If you walk out of here, you’re an even bigger target.”
She bristles, well aware that I’m right. “I’ve handled worse.”
“Not in a place you don’t even know. Not like this.”
Silence settles between us, tense and full of far too much left unsaid, then she moves. Faster than I expect, given whatever is suppressing her, she reaches for the door handle.
Just as her fingers wrap around it, I catch her wrist before she can pull it open, and she freezes, dark eyes on me.
Staring at her with a harder expression now, I register as the contact lingers longer than it should. Her skin is warm and familiar in a way that makes my chest tighten, and for a split second, we both hold our breath.
Remembering herself, Naia jerks back, freeing her arm like my touch burns. She grits her teeth. “Don’t.”
“Then stop trying to bolt. You won’t get far anyway.”
“I’m not your prisoner.”
“No, you’re not,” I agree, voice quieter now in the confined space of the car. “So don’t act like one, and cooperate.”
She hesitates, likely not expecting me to view her normally, like I always did. Then, she lets go of a breath and glances away.
Before she can get any ideas about escaping and attempting to go out on her own, I get out and go to her side, opening the door for her. I earn myself a scathing glare, but she gets out anyway and follows me through the building.
All the while, I can sense how badly she wants to run, but she doesn’t. Regardless of hating this arrangement, she knows full well what could happen if she did.
Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, I’m her best chance at safety.
Of course, that doesn’t mean she makes it any easier for me.
Instead, she fights me, pausing her steps when she feels like it, and digging her heels into the carpet to slow our momentum.
By the time we reach my floor, my patience is wearing thin, and I guide her with a hand against her back. She hates that, too.
Unlocking the door, I push it open and step aside, gesturing vaguely for her to enter. She pauses at the threshold and glances around with equal parts suspicion and wariness. It’s a good instinct to have, even if I have no intention of putting her in danger. To her, it makes no difference.
She meets my gaze again, allowing that familiar challenge to flicker in her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I never said you were.”
Naia looks ready to snap at me, but she pushes it down and steps in. The door closes behind us with a quiet click, and just like that, she’s in my space. That thought hits me harder than I care to acknowledge, and I ignore it as I lock the door again.
“Sit,” I say, pointing to the couch while I set my keys aside and move further into the apartment.
Admittedly, it’s not as clean as it could be, seeing as I haven’t been here for a while. There’s a thin layer of dust over most of the surfaces, but otherwise, it looks exactly how I left it.
I needed a home base between deployments, but that’s all it has ever been.
It isn’t personalized by any means, and in all honesty, I don’t care much about it.
It’s a standard two-bedroom, with a typical-looking interior for the area, and it’s good enough to crash in.
My real home is back on the island, waiting for me to return.
As expected, Naia doesn’t move. She just takes the place in, then crosses her arms and looks at me. “That’s not a command I’m interested in following.”
Why would it be?
With a slow exhale, I drag a hand down my face and head toward the kitchen. “Fine, then stand. Pace. Break something if it makes you feel better. Just stay put.”
Her expression shifts to a vaguely irritated one, but she doesn’t argue, which feels like progress, regardless of how slight.
At the fridge, I grab a water bottle and toss it in her direction, which she catches easily, followed by a lack of thanks, as expected.
Leaning back against the counter, I study her properly for the first time since we left the auction.
Up close, the subtle bruising on her arms and shoulders looks worse, and I can only assume the lingering suppressant is responsible for her slow healing.
The tension in her shoulders doesn’t relax either, despite being away from that place.
“Start talking.”
Her brows pinch together. “Excuse me?”
“How did you end up there?”
Instantly, her expression hardens, hiding her true feelings behind it. “That’s none of your business.”
“It became my business when I spent two million to get you out.”
Immediately, anger flashes through her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to do that. It was ridiculous.”
“No, you didn’t. But here we are. It’s better for both of us if you’re honest with me.”
She scoffs and shakes her head like she can’t believe me, then she crosses her arms. “And what about you? What kind of hero buys people at auctions anyway?”
“I’m not a hero, but thanks.”
“Yeah, you’re not,” she agrees, not afraid to show me her disdain. “After all that military training and noble missions, and this is what you do with it?”
Her sarcasm is sharper than I’d like, and something about it feels so foreign. It’s not like she was an angel before, but there had been a lighthearted undertone to her comebacks before. Now, it all feels soaked in venom. Maybe that’s what I deserve after all this time.
“Watch your tone,” I return, pushing off the counter.
“Or what?” she challenges. “You’ll put me back on that stage and sell me off, too?”
I clench my jaw to keep myself from rising to the bait. “That’s not what this is. You’re not a thing.”
“No? Because you sure as hell bought me like one.”
She’s right; I did, but not for the reasons she thinks. The accusation feels wrong in every way, and I take a slow breath to regain control over myself.
“I got you out.”
“For a steep price. You played right into their system while you were at it,” she mutters, looking at me like she doesn’t recognize me either. “Now they’re free to kidnap someone else and start all over again.”
“Would you prefer staying there?” I ask, taking a step closer to minimize the gap between us without thinking. “Better yet, if someone else bought you?”
Doubt crosses her features, only letting it show briefly before schooling her expression. “I would’ve taken a few of them down first.”
There’s something fierce and entirely genuine about that response, and also completely insane. Somehow, I don’t doubt she would’ve tried if given the chance.
A disbelieving breath escapes me. “That wasn’t a fight even I could win, let alone you with your wolf suppressed.”
“I’ve been outnumbered before,” she returns, teeth gritting.
I lean forward, getting closer to her space while maintaining that calm demeanor. “And this time, you lost.”
She flinches like I struck her, then attempts to hide it with another burning stare. Instinctively, something in me twists, but more out of frustration than satisfaction.