Page 214 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

I pause to answer that one.

“A few times.”

“The prison?”

I don’t like getting personal, but I don’t feel a need to hide anything in particular.

“Fighting leaves you drained. Makes you delusional and horny after a while. One dude had a more feminine frame. Slim but built, similar to you, but shorter.” Remembering him gives me a sense of sadness and nostalgia. “He died in my final week at the prison. His opponent bashed his head again and again. Caused a bleed, and they don’t attend to shit there. He was left for dead.”

Zander stares into my eyes, looking a bit more alert now before he sighs.

“When you look so humane like that, it makes me want to kiss you,” his voice is so low, I almost miss his confession, but he manages to snake an arm around the back of my neck, pulling me down enough for him to kiss me firmly on the lips.

I grow rigid immediately, but I don’t pull away. I just stand there, taking it all in, realizing I don’t necessarily like this.

But I also don’t hate it.

The kiss is short, but the intentions are clear as our lips part.

“I don’t like what brews between us,” he admits. “This tense static. It’s not like with Dolcezza. Warm and tender like a weighted blanket that wraps you soothingly in their safetynet. You’re dangerous. Oozing power and dominance. Fucking annoying… and a tad frightening,” he quietly admits. “But you don’t realize how lonely you look when you fight, do you?”

Lonely?

My inability to answer makes him smile as his hand trails the back of my neck and ends up ruffling my hair. Pushing me away with barely any strength, he sits up correctly and pinches his nose.

“It’s the same on the ice. You get lost in the sport, but you’re like in no-man’s land. Unable to grasp you’re connected to so many in that rink as fans cheer you on. There’s a disconnect, and very few notice,” he elaborates. “But I do. I see it over again, and I can’t deny… it nags at me. Begs to be fixed. To be healed and be filled with warmth. You just don’t see it.”

He’s right. I don’t see the disconnect. I’ve done it for so long, it’s second nature, but that could be the problem.

Why I haven’t managed to keep a relationship…

“It’s easier to see something when you’ve experienced it yourself,” he confesses and slowly rises up from his chair.

I take a step back to give him more space as he stretches.

Cracking his neck, he mutters about the pain but walks over to his bed. Pulling off his shirt, I take in his back muscles and tattoos before he strips out of his joggers. Tossing them in the laundry bin in the corner, he takes another chance to stretch.

“You can pretend that never happened. I won’t use it against you,” he concludes, sounding so tired. “But… if we’re exploring that, Dolcezza needs to know. She has to approve of it.”

He’s on the bed with a ‘splat,’ lying on his stomach and not even covering himself up.

“At least try to get into the bed more elegantly,” I complain. I expect him to chuckle or mutter how annoying I am, but my ears pick up on his slow breathing instantly.

“Damn. Sleeps as quick as Precious.”

I decide not to bother him as I gather the thin blanket and cover him. He doesn’t even stir, proving how exhausted he is.

Staring back at the desk, I can presume he was doing his share of stalking. It’s an addicting hobby that shouldn’t be good for anyone.

Yet, we do it almost like a competitive sport.

All the screens and displays show plenty of live recordings and videos surrounding one person.

Or Ruthless Maiden.

Noticing the familiar smiling child in a picture near his laptop, I walk to his desk and see two smiling children. Despite their different shade of skin color, they look extremely similar, leaving me to assume it’s Zander and Keir.

They met before their father was killed… so why do they despise one another?

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