42. CHAPTER 42
Zayne
The Capital
Kallum, Ciondo
Where days ago spring approached, it now awakened in full bloom around Zayne. Birds chirped, and soft white flowers unfurled from a tree near the porch of the house they were touring. Mellie's flowing skirt swirled about her calves while she spun, eyes as bright as the sky.
“You can tell someone put so much care into this home,” she said.
Zayne could only think about the Phaedra's plan to take over communications and give Becka Rogers the few seconds she needed to betray the Followers. Not about leaving his small, easy-to-control apartment for a huge home with Mellie.
He had to tell Kira today, and he could already see the look in her eyes when he did it. Zealous defiance.
The Phaedra still raged from her show with the PXI and from the failed mission with Becka Rogers.
After Zayne and Luke came home empty-handed, the Phaedra ordered his brother not to take any pain medication for his injury, so his mind remained clear to reflect on his failure.
Punishment for not delivering the churches to him.
The only reason the Phaedra entertained this plan to video conference with Becka and take over communication was because his father pushed so hard for it.
It was too dangerous to defy the Phaedra at any time, but right now, he was mad with fury. He wasn't just in the mood to kill but to torment in ways Zayne couldn't dream up.
He needed to break Kira out right now, not in a few days, but those damn mountains were too deadly. They had a lead on someone to talk to, but Reinard was vetting them still.
His wound tugged when he walked up the incline of the lawn. The doses of pure PXI over the past few days helped him heal, but the injury still hurt all the time. He was exhausted.
Sunlight glinted off the window of the second story, and Zayne heard the first shot in Bluehaven cry out into the silent city.
The glass didn't break this time, but in his mind, it rained down over them.
A single blink erased it, and he followed Mellie into the house, but every footstep was another bullet.
Shaking his head, he breathed out slowly.
People in Bluehaven put care into their homes as well, but they were forced to abandon them when the war destroyed their city.
Here in this neighborhood, loyal families came home at night with certainty that they need not fear any danger, and yet they supported the destruction across the territories.
If anyone in Ciondo needed to fear planes dropping bombs on their homes, they'd never see the war the same again.
“It's gorgeous.” Mellie clutched his arm. “Look, babe.”
Zayne stepped beneath an arched doorway and looked up at the staircase climbing stories above him. His entire apartment would fit in the sitting room. His breathing turned shallow when he walked into the enormous kitchen. Mellie threw her hands over her mouth and cried out with glee.
“It's even better than in the pictures.” Giggling, she ran to the windows. “Oh, Zayne, look at that view. Can you imagine waking up every morning to this?”
No. Not at all.
He'd have so many stairs to climb down when he awoke in the middle of the night. So many rooms to find his way through in order to sneak out the back door for a jog. Plenty of windows for phantom bullets to shatter.
Checking for surveillance might solve the problem because he might never have time to sleep again.
“It's almost more than I can imagine,” he said.
“Really? This is my favorite so far. It really is.”
Making a life with someone should be full of excitement. But he kept thinking of Kira staring out at the lake at his parents' house, silently searching for hope and escape. Standing in this kitchen and talking about living here…
It was absurd.
His mother's voice haunted him.
“Don't marry her… You don't love her.”
He never thought he loved Mellie.
Dread built with each step they took and each room they entered, each moment they spent on this endless tour. Why did anyone need such a large house? Zayne liked where he lived. Perhaps he'd take one room for himself and pretend the rest didn't exist.
Mellie lifted her face into the sunlight of the large windows of a bedroom. “This would be a perfect nursery.”
Heat curled around the base of Zayne's head. “No.” The word popped out of his mouth without thought.
“No?” Her shoulders fell, and she faced him. “You don't like it?”
A life played out before Zayne where Mellie rocked a baby and dreamed of the future, one destined to end in suffering.
What nursery suited a baby born to slaughter for the Phaedra?
Staring into her eyes, he suddenly felt like he didn't recognize her, like he was stuck in a stranger's body, with a stranger's fiancée.
The bullets in Bluehaven echoed distantly in his mind, and he caught a reflection of his father in the window staring back at him.
A baby with Mellie…
“Zayne?” Fear bunched her expression.
“It's not the safest room in the house.” He cleared his throat. “Windows look nice, but security matters most.”
“Oh, oh, right. You're right. It'll be a Riven baby. We need to be extra cautious.”
“Yes.” The room felt incredibly hot. Zayne couldn't have a baby with Mellie. He didn't even want one. He didn't want her or this house. Didn't want this life. “There's no rush with kids.”
“Of course not. I don't want to be pregnant at our wedding. It'll be so nice when we can start trying, though.”
“Is there a conversation I missed?” He stared hard at her. “When did we decide we're trying right away?”
“We said we wanted kids.”
Actually, Zayne never said that. She talked about children, and he didn't disagree. “Not immediately.”
“I didn't realize you wanted to wait.” Disappointment twisted her mouth into a frown. “You don't feel ready? When—”
“I don't know, Mel. Let me get my division put back together again, and then we can discuss when to start our family. I'm keeping my implant.”
The color drained from her face. Her lips twitched into a smile before falling into a frown.
“Sorry. Of course. We haven't even had the memorial service yet.
I don't know what I'm thinking. Looking at houses and dreaming of nurseries…” Tears misted her eyes, and she turned away from him toward the window. “I need to be more considerate.”
His eyes closed, and he breathed out slowly. He didn't mean to make her cry. “I know I've been tense.” If she understood the impossible pressure he faced, but she never would. She would never know him. He didn't trust her. “I don't mean to take that out on you.”
“You're not, babe.” She tried to cover her tears. He could hear it in her voice. “I just get ahead of myself. Ahead of us.”
As much as Zayne wanted to leave this house and this life to never look back, he couldn't stand seeing her suffering because of his heavy-handedness.
He was supposed to be her husband soon. That meant he needed to take care of her, not hurt her.
He owed it to her. Swallowing hard, he looped his arm around her waist, drawing her back against him.
When his lips met the top of her head, the tension in her body melted, and she wilted against him.
“It's a beautiful house,” he whispered in her ear. “I like how happy it makes you.”
“You do?” she asked, sounding so vulnerable, like one word from him might shatter her forever, or just as easily fill her entirely.
“Yes.” Zayne might not mean it when he said he loved her, not in the way she thought he did, but he cared about her.
It was a love of its own, what he felt for Mellie.
A choice. Cupping her chin, he ran his thumb along her jaw and encouraged her face toward his.
Her long neck twisted, and her eyes met his.
“I haven't quite made it home yet.” It hurt to talk so softly. So honestly. “I need a little time.”
Sadness contorted her face, and she turned in his arms, taking his face in her hands. “I'm so sorry about your friend, Zayne. I waited for you while you were at war. I'll wait for you to come back to me. I'll wait as long as you need.”
He searched her eyes, confused by the depth he saw there, frightened once again that he had never read her right, and she really did love him. “I'll be softer with you.”
A tear slinked down her cheek. “You're soft enough for me, baby.” Rising on her toes, her lips melted against his, and she kissed him tenderly. “You're enough. I don't need a big house or to rush into a family. I don't need anything else if you're with me.”
Her wanting a life with him twisted his chest. He forced himself to nod.
“Let's go,” she said. “We've looked at enough homes today. I'm dying to update my binder.”
The sparkle in her eye returned too quickly. So many things were a choice for her too. He didn't actually know what went on in her mind and heart. That wasn't true of Kira. He tried so hard to escape her, but he couldn't avoid seeing all the way into her.
Mellie's driver took them to his mother's house, and his fiancée held his hand the entire way, her tears replaced with the contentment of having his care. Was that the only way their relationship ever had any authenticity? For him to hurt her and comfort her?
Zayne never meant to become a man who hurt people.
Guilt gnawed at him, and he wished he'd said nothing about children, not while Mellie dreamed in rooms bathed with sunlight.
When they entered the house, he slid his hand out of hers, covering it by placing his palm against her back.
But Mellie must have felt so connected to him, because she just kept returning to his side.
His arms. Wanting to look into his eyes like her soul whispered to his.
But he didn't hear anything except for the war inside his mind.
Mellie and Mom leaned over the kitchen island together, poring over her binder, gushing over every detail his fiancée saw in person.
“Where's Kira?” Mellie asked. “She has to see.”
Knots twisted his stomach at that. “Not feeling well,” Zayne said, shaking his head behind Mellie's back when Mom looked up at him.
Now he needed to inform Kira of her sickness before she blew up his story.
No way he was letting Mellie throw her lavish house options in Kira's face while she was trapped in confinement.
“There's medicine for her in the living room,” Mom said.
“Take it to her for me.” Soft smile. She made this life bearable.
Always had. He needed to be a better son and never stop thanking her for the way she raised him and the courage she taught him to live by.
How did she stay strong and tender? How did Kira?
Brock was like that too. He never hurt people the way Zayne did.
Pretending to grab the nonexistent medicine, he found Kira in her room, surprised she didn't venture out when she heard them come home.
Was this her giving him the distance he kept demanding?
Or had he hurt her when they argued about his wound?
He pushed her away when she helped him with his injury.
Walked off into the woods after his nightmare. And Kira felt guilty that he got hurt.
Her eyes lit when she saw him, though, as she sat there with a book in hand.
“I brought medicine for you.” He lifted an empty hand. “You're too sick to spend time with Mellie.”
Her smile melted whatever Mellie's tears had left of him earlier. “Very thoughtful. Thank you.”
Best to get this over with. “The Phaedra decided on his demands.”
A pensive look came over Kira. “What?”
“Beg her to give him the information he wants.”
Hardness erased the Kira he knew, transforming her stare into what he'd expect from a soldier's eyes. A general.
“Just do what he wants. It's harmless. Your mom won't change her mind based on what you say under duress.”
“She won't?” Kira set the book down and hooked her arms around her knees. “If I look my mom in the eye, and I beg her to save my life, to give up the Followers, you don't think she'll say yes?”
What else did he feel comfortable saying while indoors? They'd discuss it more later outside. “Your mom loves you. She'll want to save you, but I don't think anyone expects your words to change things. It's an opportunity for you to show the Phaedra you can comply.”
“The United won't let me say that, and they won't let my mom talk. They'll cut the connection.” Her voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “You're hijacking the meeting, aren't you? Or getting to her right after.”
“We're not discussing mission details. Tell your mom to save your life and give up the location of the churches.”
Her eyes blared when she didn't say whatever filled her with fire. Kira refused to comply. He definitely needed to return later and reassure her that his friends wouldn't let the Phaedra take over the connection. Reinard was the best out there.
Shaking his head subtly, Zayne placed a hand on the doorframe. “Please follow your orders. I need you not to fight this.”
“Fine.”
A blatant lie.
The fire in her eyes didn't dim. Damn it.
Kira needed to do as instructed and trust her mom not to offer up the innocent for slaughter. Trust Zayne to secure the connection.
The fury of her silent promise stirred the air between them, and he shot back his own message with his look. One he knew she wouldn't miss, because they spoke without words too easily. Far too easily.
Keep quiet.
Stay alive.