She captured his final heartbeat in her own.
Then he was gone.
Time…it no longer felt like an anchor to reality.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Zaiana held him, wondering how this moment had come. Unable to find a reality that could imagine the days passing by without accounting for his presence. She didn’t regret anything about their relationship. Not the hatred, not the malice, not the taunting, not the way she’d never realized…she’d been falling for him too.
“Zai.”
Her name from Kyleer zapped through her as violent as her lightning. It snapped around her like a shackle to the present, and she looked down at the still form she held.
Maverick was gone.
“No,” she said—a vacant word of denial. Zaiana frowned, shaking her head. “Get up.”
“Zai—”
“NO!”
She held Maverick tighter as if Kyleer would rip him from her, and he was afraid to hurt him if he tried.
It can’t be over. Not yet.
“Your life is mine,” she said vacantly.
No—not anymore.
Mordecai had taken him from her.
“I’m sorry,” Kyleer said gently.
Too gently. As if breaking the news she didn’t want to accept.
Her arms began to loosen, the weight of Maverick’s body becoming too much to bear.
“Me too,” she whispered, looking over his still face.
She waited for his dark eyes to open. For him to say something insufferable.
A hollowness opened in her chest with every passing second. Something in her she didn’t know had taken vital occupancy died slowly with her acceptance of the truth.
Died…with him.
Laying him down, he’d never looked so peaceful. As if he were just asleep.
He was finally free.
And for a second…Zaiana envied him for it.
A hand on her shoulder strapped her to this land. Zaiana shrugged it off to stand.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re not glad for it,” she said, her voice cold like the death that lingered.
“I can’t be glad for anything that causes you pain.”
The smile that curved her lips was slow and villainous. Her grief sharpened her claws of rage and resentment, volatile to anyone in her path.