Page 17 of A Touch Of Death

After another hour passes - and Nix has created a fashion show out of the clothes - my belly grumbles loud enough for all four of them to hear. I slap my hands over my stomach, and I can feel my cheeks growing warm. "Sorry. I forgot I need to eat regularly. I'd gotten used to waiting on someone to bring me what little food they'd give us."

I couldn't have possibly said a worse thing because the playful atmosphere completely evaporates, replaced once again with guilt, anger, and sympathy. Spencer avoids making eye contact. Nix shuffles awkwardly on his feet, and Ezra's features pull into a tight scowl. Zayn is the only one who seems unaffected aside from the clenching of his fists. I didn't mean to ruin the mood by speaking my mind, but perhaps I should tread more carefully with my words before blurting them out.

"We'd rather you tell us what you're thinking. You shouldn't have to edit your thoughts in order to keep us happy." Zayn follows his words with a small smile, easing some of the tension that had built in my body. I give him a nod, and then my belly growls again as though it's suddenly turned into an angry beast.

"I'll go cook something up while you guys finish up in here," Ezra says with the smallest smirk as he clears away some of the bags before shuffling out of the room.

Deciding that I should help with putting bags away or putting some of the boxes in the trash, I try to heave myself out of the giant bean bag to no avail. It's as though the thing has sucked me in and refuses to release me.

Spencer notices my struggle after my third attempt to roll from the bag ending with me toppling back into it with an aggravated huff. "Need some help?"

I drop my head back in defeat and sigh. "That would be great."

He holds his hands out for me to take, and I slide my palms onto his, twining my fingers around his hands tightly. The moment my skin connects with his, a warm sensation trails up my arms, comforting yet unusual. Spencer and I pause. I look at our entwined hands before flicking my gaze up to check if Spencer can feel the same thing I can. When my eyes dart up, it's to find him already watching me closely. My lips part, and my small inhale of air is the only thing to be heard in the room.

Suddenly, I'm being hauled out of the vacuum-like bean bag and steadied by a firm set of hands. Spencer's eyes don't leave mine when he pulls me onto my feet or when his hands go to my waist to keep my balance steady. Did he feel it? Or is insanity finally catching up to me?

The mage shakes his head and moves back a little, hesitantly removing his hands from my sides. He looks towards Zayn before muttering, "I'll go help Ez with food."

He's gone the next second.

"Well, I'm going to go for a run before they get done cooking," Nix says. He stretches his arms up in the air, cracking his knuckles as he does so. His shirt rides up a little, exposing his lower abdomen. I spy a trail of hair leading from his navel that disappears under his jeans, and I flick my gaze away quickly when I realise my eyes have wandered to a well-endowed bulge that's straining against the zipper of his pants. I don’t need dirty thoughts about the shifter rattling in my head right now after already feeling a little flushed at the contact I just had with Spencer.

My cheeks heat up, but I avoid looking in Nix's direction. Instead, my eyes catch onto Zayn's. The mind reading vampire. I can only hope he isn't intruding on my brain right now. He doesn't make any outward appearance indicating that he's been eavesdropping, so I relax a little even while my cheeks remain heated.

Nix's leaves the room, and it's just Zayn and me. I walk over to the bed and start piling bags into more bags, clearing away the mess left over. I feel more than hear Zayn walk closer to me, so I stop what I'm doing and turn to face him.

He looks suddenly shy, his hand in his pocket and looking down at the floor. "Zayn? Are you okay?"

His green eyes meet mine, and it's as though the air has suddenly been suctioned out of the room. With him standing as close as he is, I can see the deeper green flecks smattered in his irises. They're stunning and intense, and it takes a lot for me to catch my breath again without making an idiot of myself.

"I, uh, bought you something. I thought you'd like it as a little reminder," he tells me, still a little shy, but gaining confidence the more he talks. "I heard you say your sister's name was Dahlia. As in the flower?"

I give him a nod because that's all I can manage with the way my throat closes up at the mere mention of my big sister. Zayn saves me from attempting to speak.

"Well, I came across this while we were shopping, and I thought it would be a nice token to remind you of your sister." He then pulls out a small square box from the pocket his hand had been encased in and holds it out for me to take. I look at him, then back at the box, tears already forming in my eyes.

Slowly, as though the box is glass and not a velvet-covered casing, I take it from his hand and pull it closer. I open the lid carefully, and inside sits a beautiful silver ring. It's a band with dahlia flowers and vines engraved all around it. The details are remarkable, every petal or leaf outlined perfectly. Where did he even get something so beautiful?

"I hope I haven't overstepped," Zayn speaks up, worry tainting his words. It's then I realise that I've capped my thoughts, and a lone tear works its way down my cheeks. I shake my head vigorously enough to make another teardrop fall from my lashes, and my eyesight to become blurry.

With a voice only just above a whisper, I say, "It's beautiful. Really beautiful. I love it."

His smile is warm when he directs it back to me. He takes a step closer, motioning to the box. "May I?"

I nod and hand him the box. When it's in his grasp, he pulls the ring out of the case and tilts it so the light hits the inside of the band. The light hits it the way Zayn wants, and he motions me closer, his pinky finger pointing as something that's engraved into the metal. I move closer and tilt my head to see what it is.

Beauty is that of a bond between sisters.

It’s like those words alone hold the key to myemotionsand unlock the flood. My cheeks are coated in saltytears, but a smile pulls at my lips. Dahlia would have adored this ring. She’d never take it off if it were given to her as a gift. She certainly wouldn’t let me borrow something so beautiful.

I chuckle through my sniffles, and a comforting hand runs soothing motions up and down my back. I lift my head to wipe away my tears, facing Zayn as I do so. “Thank you so much. I’ll treasure it always.”

Zayn’s smile grows, and he picks my hand up, a warm tingle emanating from where our skin connects. He pays it no mind, quite possibly ignoring the feeling or not experiencing it at all. Gently, he slides the band on the middle finger of my right hand and gives my hand a squeeze before letting go and taking away the warm fuzzy feeling with him.

“I’m pleased that you like it,” he says, turning shy again. He shoves both hands in his pockets and gives me a small smile.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude overtakes me, set off by the shy smile he gives me after offering me something so precious that I’ll never take it off my finger. Without warning, I move towards him and loop my arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. He freezes briefly before his arms slowly surround me, curling around my back and hugging me to his body securely.

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