A genuine, surprised laugh escapes me. “Oh, Ellie. That’s simultaneously the most adorable and most depressing thing I’ve ever heard. See? Fun.” I clap my hands together. “Round two. Zane says, walk like a penguin.”
She shoots me a withering look, but then she does it, tucking her hands into her armpits and waddling across the marble floor. The sight is so absurd, so utterly out of place in this hellhole, that another real laugh bubbles up inside me. It’s working.
“Zane says, flap your arms like a chicken.”
She flaps, her waddle now a bizarre, flapping dance. I’m laughing so hard I have to brace myself on the back of a chair.
And then I see it.
As she flaps, a small, genuine, unguarded smile breaks across her face. It’s like the sun coming out from behind a storm cloud, brilliant and life-giving.
My laughter dies in my throat, replaced by a wave of something so intense it’s almost painful. Possessiveness. Pride. A raw, aching need.
This is it.
This is the prize.
And I’m not letting it go.
“Stop,” I say, my voice suddenly low and serious.
She stops, her arms falling to her sides, the smile fading as she looks at me, confused by the sudden shift in my tone.
I cross the space between us in three long strides, my eyes locked on hers. I don’t stop until I’m crowding her against thecold marble of the fireplace, my body a cage of my own making. I raise a hand, my knuckles gently brushing her cheek. Her skin is soft, warm.
“There it is,” I murmur, my thumb tracing the curve of her lips. “I knew it was in there. Hiding from me.”
“Zane…” she breathes, her voice uncertain.
“Shh.” I lean in, my lips hovering above hers, so close I can feel the warmth of her breath. “You won the game, Ellie. You get your reward.”
I close the remaining distance, kissing her. It isn’t a gentle kiss. It’s aclaiming. A hungry, desperate press of my lips against hers, a silent promise that I will tear down the heavens to keep that smile on her face.
I pour all my chaotic, obsessive energy into it, all my rage at Aria, all my fierce, protective love for this one perfect, broken girl.
She responds instantly, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair, her mouth opening under mine with a soft sigh that’s fucking everything.
I deepen the kiss, my tongue sweeping against hers, tasting her, devouring her. My hands roam her body, mapping the curves I know better than my own, pulling her flush against me so there’s no space left between us. I can feel her heart hammering against my ribs, a frantic, wild rhythm that matches mine.
When I finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard. Her eyes are dark, the earlier vacancy replaced by a dazed, fiery light that’s all for me.
“Upstairs,” I command, my voice rough. “Now.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I scoop her into my arms, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist. I carry her out of the living room and up the sweeping staircase, my footsteps echoing with a new purpose.
I push open the bedroom door, making it bang against the wall, the sound like gunfire in the quiet of the house.
“What the fuck, Zane?” I hear Dominic snarl.
“What’s going on?” adds Beckett, sounding confused.
“Out. Now,” I hiss, not bothering to turn toward them. I hear their footsteps shuffling toward the door, the drag of their feet accompanied by annoyed mutters and curses.
“We have to leave soon,” Dominic reminds me, sounding pissed as all can be. Probably because I’m not inviting him to join.
“Out,” I repeat.
I kick the door shut behind us and lay her down on the king-size bed, the dark sheets a stark contrast to her pale skin. I follow her down, hovering over her, my hands planted on either side of her head.
