“Babe. I forgot my shampoo. Did you keep—”
“Yes,” Zayne said, closing his eyes. “There's a bottle in the shower still.” He needed a quiet night, but Mellie missed him and turning her away seemed harsh when he'd just returned.
Once they settled into bed together for the night, she lay against his chest, her voice heavy with sleep. “It feels so good to have you home.”
Zayne closed his eyes, hoping to stave off any nightmares while Mellie was in his arms. Hoping the dead didn't come for her, too.
CHAPTER 6
Kira
The Capital
Kallum, Ciondo
833 P.C. [Post-Collapse]
Comfort painted over Kira's imprisonment in the distraction of a beautiful day, a spacious train, and a bag full of her own belongings. Kira sat with her legs tucked into the first-class seat, and a bright blue sky painted the window beside her. The armed guards rode in the other cars, so she didn't see them. It made her feel like herself again to slip into her comfortable red knit sweater and leave those prison clothes behind.
The train leading her further from her friends did not, however. Out there in the capital, the ones who loved her searched for her, and they may get themselves killed in that pursuit.
Kira clutched her bag closer. They allowed her paper in her cell, and she'd spent her time alone writing letters to everyone she left behind. So far, she hadn't found a good time to beg Zayne to send them for her, but she hoped that at some point on this trip she might find a bit of humanity in him. Just a glimpse of it, and she'd choose that time to ask.
Although the way he looked now left little hope for that. Despite that he didn't wear his uniform, he made his black button-up and dark jeans look like fatigues. He secured every single button in place, even though he didn't wear a tie, like he intended to strangle himself with the collar. Most men left the throat undone. Apparently, that was too casual for the mighty Sergeant Zayne Riven.
Look at him. Standing stiffly in the aisle with painfully straight shoulders. Didn't that hurt his back? This was not a man prepared to let his guard down enough to do Kira a kindness, especially after all his threats.
Zayne hated lowering himself to her level.
Over the past four days, he ensured that Kira never forgot her place. He generally acted polite enough, but any time the wind gusted outside or he turned his back on the camera while standing close enough to her, his tone changed. In whispers, he reminded her not to cross him or complained about how little time he had for her. He saved the somewhat friendly routine for the cameras. When he managed to sneak in an honest moment, he showed her what he really thought of her.
As the train picked up speed, Zayne continued to stand. Over the past few days, his limp improved, so he must have been recovering from an injury. Still, he never used crutches, and he never sat, not even with the train rolling over the tracks. Did he plan to stand for the next three days straight despite his injury? What a stubborn and ridiculous man.
No discomfort or pain registered on his expression even though the bumpy ride surely hurt. Kira figured that told her something about him. About how well he masked suffering and to never trust what she saw. It made him feel even more lethal.
So far, his intimidation had kept her in compliance. If she wanted to survive or find a way to help her mother and the Followers, she needed to resist at some point.
She'd lean into this game the Phaedra forced upon Zayne. The one her keeper forbade her from playing.
“You never sit,” she said dryly, though her stomach flipped.
His steely stare cut to her, an acknowledgment of her challenge. They both knew that Zayne needed to perform his part and manipulate her. And that he expected her to make it easy.
“I prefer to stand,” he said.
“You're hurt.”
The ice in his eyes hardened. “Don't worry.” He lowered himself to the seat across from her, and she sensed his frustration, though she did not see it. “I really am fine.”
The Phaedra put them in casual clothes for a reason. He obviously wanted to lower her defenses. Breaking through Zayne's armor seemed impossible. She'd start with unsettling him. Right now, he couldn't rebuff her attempts at getting closer.
But what would he do to punish her for defying him?
“What happened to your leg?” she asked, fighting to relax her voice. “I hope you aren't in pain.”
“I just came home from war. It's minor.”
His muscles tensed just enough for her to notice, and she thought he intended for her to see. His way of telling her to shut her mouth and leave him alone.
