Page 142 of Seeking Shadows

"Stay with me." My voice is a plea, raw with desperation.

Zane doesn't respond with words.

He responds with touch.

With the way his arms close around me, as if he could shield me from the world.

Or from myself.

Zane’s arms tighten around me, firm and warm, as he lifts me off the ground.

My cold skin brushes against his, and a shiver runs through me, but I don’t know if it’s from the contrast in temperature or from the way he’s holding me—like I’m something precious and fragile at the same time.

I bury my face against his neck, breathing deeply, trying to take in everything about him: his scent, his warmth, the strong, steady beat of his heart. I cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s falling apart around me.

His footsteps are silent as he carries me across the dark room, and the bed gives way beneath the weight of my body as he lays me down. But he doesn't move away.

I see his eyes in the dim light, shining with something indecipherable. There’s tension in the way he’s breathing, in the way his muscles seem ready to contract. He’s watching me, studying me, as if he wants to understand every broken fragment inside me before he decides what to do.

My fingers close around his arm.

"Zane." My voice cracks, hoarse. "I need you."

He doesn't answer right away. His eyes roam over my face, taking in every detail, every shadow, every trace of whatever is imprinted on me at that moment.

Then, without looking away, he begins to take off his wet clothes.

My heart races.

The damp fabric slides across his skin, revealing hard muscles, tattoos that shift with each breath he takes. My chest rises and falls in an uneven rhythm as I watch, as the silence between us turns to something electric.

He hesitates for a second before joining me on the bed, the warmth of his body enveloping me.

The first thing he does is slide his hand down to my waist, a touch so light it almost doesn’t seem real.

But I feel it.

God, how I feel it.

My body responds before I can think. My fingers travel up his arm, over his shoulder, tracing every familiar line, every detail of something I've always known, always wanted.

But this time, it's different.

This time, I’m desperate.

"I need to feel you," I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion. "To know you're real."

Zane's breathing falters.

And then he kisses me.

It’s not a hurried or hungry touch, but something more intense, more loaded with meaning. His mouth explores mine with a patience that dismantles me, as if he were holding me there, anchoring me to this moment.

And I let him.

I let him pull me back, let his warmth envelop me, let his body make me forget.

Because tonight, there is no past, there are no voices, there is no fear.

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