Page 232 of Interion

“Think, stupid, furious bird,” I replied without looking away. “We're the same—opposite sides of the same coin. I don't need pity, hatred, or compassion as a reason to approach you. I've always been open to anyone who dared to come close, and I'm still open, Adele. Stop projecting your conflicted feelings about yourself onto me. You only hate me because you see that I'm like you, and accepting me is hard because you don't accept yourself. We're not broken birds—we're free birds with plenty of scars, and for better or worse, we're the same. But cut this shit out, tormenting me with your bad mood. I didn't do anything to deserve it.”

She stared at me in silence, and when it became clear she wasn't going to respond, I turned around. I left Adele standing wide-eyed in the corridor and stepped outside, breathing in the cold air scented with wisteria, typical of Interion.

Despite the box in my hands, I felt 20 pounds lighter.

Chapter 58

It was Friday, two days before the test, and the morning was cold and rainy. Because of the weather, Zion decided to give me a rest day since we'd spent the entire week working on my preparation, and the next day would be hectic with the opening party for the tests. He'd left early that morning, saying he'd be back soon, but it was almost noon and still no sign of him. As always before any important event, I was anxious. All week I'd been on edge—I wasn't sleeping well and couldn't stop bouncing my legs when I sat down. Sometimes it felt like I wanted to shake them right off my body. Kiara and Zion felt my stress too. The chimera had gotten anxious along with me, so we'd sent her to her routine appointment with Dr. Owen. He was trying to monitor her because of a suspected mutation.

It was 2 p.m. when the rain stopped. I'd already eaten lunch and was too restless to read or watch TV. So I pulled my hair into a high bun, threw on a light pink zip-up sweatsuit, and started cleaning the house. I needed to move around to relieve the stress—I would've much rather been training than sitting around biting my nails, but Zion wasn't back to train with me. I headed upstairs with the vacuum and a duster. I cleaned my room, then the hallway, then stopped in front of Zion's door. He usually cleaned his own space, but since I was already there, I figured I'd give it a once-over. I stepped inside carefully, looking around; the bed was made, the bathtub was spotless, the carpeted floor didn't have a speck of dirt, and even the pillows were perfectly aligned. I thought he must have some kind of OCD, because not even my room was that tidy.

I turned to leave, but something on the nightstand caught my attention. Curious, I walked over to see what that out-of-place paper was. I smiled triumphantly at what I found in my hands. It was the photo from dinner at Lemon's—the one where I was grinning like a lunatic. Sneakily, I tugged up my sweatshirt and tucked the photo into my bra. I'd trade his copy for mine. It was a fair trade, and no one would lose out. But just as I started to turn and leave, I caught the familiar scent of sandalwood.

I found Zion leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a mischievous smile on his lips. I froze in place, feeling like the cat that ate the canary.

“Well, well. I found a little thief in my room.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn't move. I lifted my hands above my head, which made my shirt ride up a little.

“That's a serious accusation, General,” I retorted, amused to see his eyes fix on the strip of skin my shirt had exposed. “Did you know I can sue you for slander?”

“And what did you just hide in your bra?” he asked suspiciously.

“My boobs?” I shrugged, feigning innocence.

Zion took a step forward, and I took a step to the side. To reach me, he'd have to go around the bed. My smile grew even wider.

“Maybe I should check if that's true,” he teased, taking another step forward. My heart raced, and I didn't know if it was from getting caught or from him suggesting he'd check my chest.

“Maybe Serguei would have a thing or two to say about that.” I mentally calculated how many seconds it would take him to reach me and whether I could escape in time.

“Serguei doesn't need to know if it's a quick inspection.”

Then Zion lunged toward me, and I scrambled across the bed on all fours. I darted through the door, yanking it shut behind me, and as it slammed, I bolted down the hallway. I heard Zion cursing and running after me, but I couldn't stop laughing as I raced down the stairs. If he wanted to, he could catch me with the shadows, but this was our game—and if he resorted to them, it would mean he couldn't handle a challenge. My laughter echoed through the house, and so did his as he chased me. I knew I only had the advantage because I'd caught him off guard.

I threw open the glass door and stepped out into the backyard. It was freezing out there, and my panda slippers quickly got soaked on the wet ground. I saw Zion studying the closed passage, then he bolted for the front door. I knew he'd go around the outside, and I couldn't help but laugh at my own trick. I felt the photo pressed tight against my chest—I wasn't going to lose it. I ran to the other side of the house, where there was an entrance leading to the basement where we'd trained. I flicked on the lights, locked the door behind me, and raced down the stairs. I jumped over weights and a pile of mats. My only goal was to reach the other entrance, which opened from inside the house. I hoped Zion hadn't noticed I'd gone down there, but when I got close to the door, it swung open, revealing a very animated, grinning Zion.

“You really think you can hide from me, little thief?” He took a step inside.

I ran down the stairs laughing like a madwoman. The plan was to exit the way I'd come in, but Zion was right on my heels—I could feel him close. I jumped over the weights, dodged the punching bag, but when I got close to the stairs, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me against his chest and steering us toward a wall. He pinned me there, curving his arm around my head so I wouldn't hit it from the impact. I stared into his bright eyes and tried to fight him off, but Zion grabbed my wrists and raised them above my head. We both laughed like mischievous kids.

“That's not fair, Zion! You know that photo is ugly. I wasn't going to steal it—I was just going to trade it for another one.”

I tried to convince him while he watched me, amused. He'd blocked my legs too, so I couldn't even kick, and I was up on my tiptoes as he held me in place.

“I don't care—it's my photo and I really like it.” He pretended to be offended, but the sly smile gave him away. Zion released my hands and I tried to move, but the shadows held me, keeping me frozen in place. My eyes went wide.

“You know that’s dirty pool,” I shouted, feeling cheated.

He wasn’t amused anymore. His gaze had turned dark and loaded with meaning, fixed on a point below my breasts. That’s when I noticed my sweatshirt had ridden up to the edge of my bra.

“And I already told you I don’t play fair.” He closed the distance between us. “Know what we do with thieves in the army?”

Zion raised his hands to my face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ears.

“You let them go and leave them alone?” I joked, but now I was afraid of doing something that would make us lose control.

“No, we take back what was stolen and dish out a punishment. Usually, we punish the thief’s hand. I’ve never had to punish anyone because there have never been thieves in the squadron. This will be the first time, but don’t worry—it’s not your hand I want to punish. After all, that’s not what’s holding the photo.”