Chapter 7 - Zane
Twenty more minutes is all I can take of her pacing, her talking, and her deliberate attempts to push every button she can find just to prove she can still get a reaction out of me.
It’s working, and that’s the problem.
Pushing up from the stool, I drag a hand down my face as I exhale, accepting my new resolve. “Get your shoes.”
Naia pauses mid-step, blinking at me like she didn’t hear that right. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Her eyes narrow immediately, skeptical like usual. “Why?”
“Because if I have to listen to you complain for another hour, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Something caught between surprise and suspicion crosses her face, but she resists any sort of celebration until she has a better scope of the situation. “Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“That’s not a helpful answer at all.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting. So either accept it or stay here.”
She studies me for a long second, clearly trying to figure out the angle, and I let her because there isn’t one. I just need her out of here. I need the tension to break before one of us does something we can’t take back.
“Fine,” she mutters finally, unwilling to let the opportunity pass her by as she grabs her shoes. “But if this is some kind of test—”
“It’s not,” I say without hesitation, far too tired to maintain some kind of charade.
She doesn’t look convinced, but it doesn’t matter. We head out, and all the while, I keep a sharp eye on her.
Outside, the city is loud. Too loud. Between the cars, voices, and general movement, everything is almost layered on top of each other in a way that keeps my instincts humming just beneath the surface, and regardless of how much time I’ve spent here, I still don’t feel accustomed to it.
Naia sticks close, not by choice, but by necessity.
I can feel the tension in her every step and the way her gaze tracks every nearby movement. Whether it’s due to survival instincts or because she’s looking for an opening to escape, I don’t know, but I expected either, and I’m ready for it.
In all ways, I can tell she’s a wolf away from home, forced to navigate a place so different from the dense woods she’s used to.
Even if Ashford isn’t that far from Willow, there’s certainly a kind of culture shock that comes with it, and even if I already know she won’t accept any kind of comfort from me, I at least hope my presence is enough to keep her grounded.
We move through a few blocks, which are nothing special, but it’s enough to get her out of the apartment and to let her stretch.
Every second, I’m on high alert, both watching her and watching everyone else.
I wait for her to bolt, but she doesn’t. Not yet, at least. Still, I don’t let my guard down. She’s far too restless, and I already know exactly how determined she is to get back to Wraith Peak.
Unlike earlier, she doesn’t say much. She just gives short answers when I speak, and wary glances when I don’t. She’s still bristling and fighting me at every turn anyway.
Before long, when I’ve also grown tired of the crowds, I take a turn heading toward the edge of the city, and as expected, she notices immediately.
“Where are we going now?”
“Somewhere quieter,” I tell her, hoping it’ll be enough to pacify her, regardless of how seldom anything I have to say has that effect on her.
“That’s not suspicious at all.”
Choosing to ignore her, I watch as the buildings gradually thin out, replaced by open space, then trees. The air shifts into something distinctly cleaner, cooler, and carrying the scent of earth and leaves instead of exhaust and concrete.
Naia slows slightly as we step onto the trail. While subtle, the tension in her shoulders eases enough for me to catch, and while it isn’t a complete surrender, it’s something. I’ll take what I can get.
We walk in silence for a while, listening to the distant rustle of wind through branches and the flutter of leaves overhead. All the while, I keep my senses open and track everything.
Instead of doing anything stupid, she exhales slowly, like she’s finally able to breathe properly for the first time in days.
When I glance at her, I catch her eyes scanning the trees now, but not like before. Rather than calculating or searching for weak points, she looks almost relaxed in a place more closely resembling home.
“Better?” I ask.
She hesitates, then, reluctantly, she murmurs, “…a little.”
I nod once, not bringing more attention to it. Instead, we keep walking, and while the tension between us doesn’t disappear, it shifts, almost seeming to gather around the edges.
After a while, Naia breaks the silence herself. “You don’t trust me out here.”
“No, I don’t,” I respond honestly, not seeing any point in lying about what we both already know. It’s obvious enough.
She huffs a quiet breath, almost sounding reluctantly amused. “At least you’re honest.”
“I always am.”
While the wind catches her dark hair, she glances at me, and something unreadable passes through her expression. “Even when it makes things worse?”
“Especially then.”
She looks away again, more like she doesn’t know what to do with this strangely peaceful moment between us. It’s a stark difference compared to the last few days.
“I could run,” she says, unable to help herself.
“I know.”
“I still might,” Naia mumbles, but she doesn’t sound so sure. Then she sighs. “But you’d probably catch me.”
“Yeah, I would,” I respond without hesitation.
She may be quick and agile, but she isn’t trained like I am. She doesn’t know exactly how determined I am to keep her out of harm’s way, either.
She exhales sharply through her nose, allowing something like frustration to slip through. “You’re so arrogant.”
“I’m realistic.”
That earns me a brief glare, and I take it.
We walk a little farther before she speaks again, and to my surprise, she sounds more sincere now.
“You didn’t have to take me out here.”
I shrug. “Seemed like a better alternative to you destroying my apartment.”
“I wasn’t going to destroy it,“ she murmurs, as if it were ridiculous.
“You were thinking about it,” I say, lifting a brow in her direction.
A corner of her lips barely pulls, but she keeps it restrained enough not to seem like she’s enjoying this. “Maybe a little.”
I almost smile, and as we continue, taking in the easy pace of the more secluded world around us, it feels more like old times. Back before I left, and before she decided it was easier to hate me than to hear my side of things.
“Why does it bother you so much?” I ask after a while.
She stiffens slightly, not meeting my gaze. “You keeping me locked up?”
“That’s part of it,” I admit. “But it’s more than that.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes stay fixed ahead, her expression tightening again like she’s pulling something back into place.
“Take a guess,” she says finally.
“Because I bought you,” I say flatly.
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “That might have something to do with it.”
“And the rest?”
She hesitates a bit longer this time, like she doesn’t want to let the words out just for me. It goes on long enough that I think she’s not going to answer.
“You left,” she says, words quieter and softer, yet hitting much harder than anything she’s said so far.
I stop walking before it sets in that I’m not moving anymore, but she doesn’t. Naia takes a few more steps before she realizes I’m not beside her anymore, and she turns slowly.
Our eyes meet, and I find myself caught in the moment and almost pinned down by those simple words.
“You left,” she repeats, her voice steadier now, but there’s something underneath it. Something I don’t hear from her often these days. “And that was it.”
I frown slightly. “That was the plan. It’s not like I surprised you with it…I told you prior.”
She looks away, trying to piece those repressed feelings together after all this time. Then she exhales. “I thought that was the last time I’d see you, Zane.”
The admission lands on my shoulders and settles into my skin.
At first, I don’t know what to say to that. In all honesty, that was what I had in mind. I needed to leave and never look back. I refused to get tied to anything that could pull me under again, even if it left her feeling alone. Wraith Peak was killing me, and I needed my freedom.
I glance at her, studying her more closely now. “You didn’t think I’d come back.”
“No, I didn’t,” she says simply. Then, a soft, almost hurt scoff slips from her. “Why would I? You were determined to leave, regardless of what I said.”
There’s something in her voice now I don’t recognize, or maybe I do, but it’s been long enough that I’ve forgotten what it sounds like. I just haven’t heard it directed at me before.
“And that bothered you,” I say.
Her eyes snap to mine, allowing her protective walls to slip back into place again. “Don’t twist it into something else.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I sigh, feeling her pulling away again. “Naia—”
“You left,” she cuts in again, more direct now, while the vulnerability from before already starts to harden into something defensive. “You made your choice. I understood that.”
“But you didn’t like it.”
Her jaw tightens. “That’s not the point.”
“It is if it’s still bothering you.”
“It’s not.”
“Then why bring it up?”
I watch as she hides behind those coping mechanisms of hers in real time.
It’s in the shift in her posture, the way her expression closes off, and how that brief flicker of honesty disappears behind something sharper.
Despite that brief moment of vulnerability, she’s trying to seem more controlled now. Unruffled, even.
“I don’t care that you left,” she says finally, her tone colder now. “I care that you came back like this. That you bought me.”
“Because you feel like I took your choice,” I add, already knowing where she stands. “And you think I had an angle.”
She hesitates, then murmurs reluctantly, “Yes.”
“Look,” I say, running a hand through my hair, “I didn’t have a plan when I walked into that room. I saw you, and I acted.”
“Why?”
The question comes out fast, almost like a demand, and for a second, I don’t have a clean answer. I could say it was instinct, or that it was the right thing to do. Maybe even that I couldn’t leave her there. It was all true, but none of it feels like enough.
So I go with the simplest version.
“Because it was you.”
She freezes, just slightly. Then her expression shifts again, suspicion sliding back into place, and it makes me question if she’ll ever believe a word I say. “That’s a terrible answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.”
Naia studies me like she’s trying to pick it apart, find the flaw, and point out the hidden angle she seems so hellbent on finding, but she’ll only be disappointed.
After a moment, she looks away again, her shoulders looking a bit heavier than they did before. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“I know,” I murmur, hands in my pockets while the quiet air around us settles again, but tighter now, still, not as volatile as it was.
As she exhales and continues down the trail, I watch her for a second. I focus on the way she’s already closed herself off again, and how that brief crack in her armor is gone like it never happened.
She let me see that, just long enough to tell me she isn’t immune to the past either, and now, I can’t stop wondering if I’ll ever get through that wall again. Or why the hell I even want to.