Page 18 of A Touch Of Death

With my head lying under his chin, I tell him, “I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love it. It’s perfect.”

Zayn rubs a hand over the expanse of my back, comforting me further and simply holding me until the overwhelming feelings subside, and I don’t feel as though I’m seconds away from another impending breakdown over an incredibly sweet gesture.

I slowly pull away from the vampire, look down to my new ring, and smile. It sits comfortably on my finger, and the feeling of knowing that it’s something I’ll miss if lost settles deep in my heart. How he had it sized perfectly to my finger is a mystery to me, but I’m forever grateful that he thought to buy me something that already means a great deal to me.

"I'm going to clean up this mess. Why don't you go to the living room? I'm sure dinner is almost done," Zayn offers, making a move to clear the bags on the bed. I ignore his suggestion and help with clearing the mess away. I pack bags into other bags and break down boxes while Zayn folds the clothes that made their way into a pile at the end of the bed.

By the time we're done, Ezra announces dinner is ready, and I'm feeling more at home here than I probably should. I mean, I don't expect to stay with the guys. I've already been here for two days. I'm sure they're all expecting me to start making a plan on where to go, where I'm going to live now. They saved me, sure, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stay with them from here on out. That's not what they signed up for. Their mission is complete, so I'll have to leave them soon.

Those thoughts suddenly make my mood plummet. My chest aches at the thought of leaving them, which doesn't make sense at all. I don't know them, not really. They rescued me, but I don't know who they are beyond that. Well, I know they're good guys because they've taken care of me since finding me on the river bank. Sadly, that still doesn't mean Iknowthem. So why does my chest hurt, my eyes sting with unshed tears, and a hollow ache grow in the pit of my stomach until it's almost all-consuming? Why does the thought of leaving and never seeing them again constrict my heart and leave me feeling like I've already lost a part of myself? It doesn't make sense.

If Zayn senses the change in me, he doesn't show it. He doesn't comment on the whirlwind thoughts cascading through my head, so I'm hoping I managed to cap it before he could have any insight to where my thoughts had wandered.

Wetidy up everything side by side, silence settling over us while my mind runs a mile a minute. Everything is cleared away in no time, and once the last box has been broken, and Zayn folds the last pair of leggings, I excuse myself to the bathroom.

I close the door with a soft click of the latch and sink to the floor. Before my ass hits the tiles, tears are filling my eyes and overflowing, gliding down my cheeks in tiny rivers of confusion and apprehension. I don't understand why I'm reacting this way. I never would have expected to stay here, with four strangers no less, but it's suddenly dawned on me that once I leave here, I'll be alone. Truly, irrevocably alone. And what's worse is that I have nowhere else to go, no money to go anywhere. Where am I supposed to go from here? How do I figure out my next step? How do I even make a plan when everything and everyone I knew is gone, and I'm left to figure this all out on my own?

Before I was taken, I'd only ever left the reservation with Dahlia. It was the only way I could learn about everything beyondfaeand otherNaturals. But even those trips weren't enough to prepare me for the outside world, the real world. I wouldn't know where the hell to start.

For five long, gruelling years I wished for nothing other than to be free, to feel the fresh air blow through my hair. To smell the fresh flowers in bloom and feel the sun on my face while I lay in the grass. Thing is, I always thought I'd still have my family when that day came. I thought I'd never be alone, never be left to fend for myself and figure out the world without my father and sister beside me. I thought, when the day we escaped finally came, we'd be together to start our lives over.

But that's not what Fate had in mind for me or my family. Instead, they were torn from me, their lives snatched away from them while I'd been abandoned to live this life in loneliness.

But how can I?How do I do this alone?

Chapter 10

Novia

Aftergathering myself together again, I put on a brave face and leave the bathroom despite the thoughts plaguing my mind. I head to the front room, finding Ezra dishing an amazing smelling dinner, while Spencer gathers the cutlery and drinking glasses. I spot Zayn sitting in an armchair with an open book resting on his lap. Nix is missing, so I assume he's still doing whatever it is shifters do.

Just as I step closer, Ezra glances behind himself quickly before turning back to his task, commenting, "Good timing. I've just plated your dinner. I made spaghetti and meatballs with homemade garlic bread. There's enough for seconds if you want more."

"Thanks," I reply, a slight rasp to my voice from my emotional breakdown.

Spencer's head lifts from pouring Dr Pepper in one of the glasses at the sound of my voice. His eyes narrow, and his head tilts as his intense gaze takes in my face. "What's wrong? You've been crying."

Shit. He caught me.

"Nothing. I'm fine." I offer him a smile, though it feels too strained to look genuine. The same thoughts I had in the bathroom slither into my mind, but I ignore them with the mage's eyes trained on me.

Spencer's eyebrows furrow as he puts the cap back on the bottle he was pouring from. He steps around the island, walking close to where I'm awkwardly standing. He lowers his voice and tells me, "Your eyes are red-rimmed, your nose is pink, and I didn't miss the slight roughness to your voice when you spoke. You're not fine. Why have you been crying?"

My mouth falls open in shock at his observations. I was sure I'd left enough time for the redness to fade from my face before leaving. With an audible swallow, I shake my head and smile a little more genuinely even though it's a struggle to do so. "I really am fine. It's nothing."

I step away from Spencer and his penetrating gaze, moving towards the island. My eyes flick to Zayn briefly, catching him watching me with a troubled frown. I look back to Spencer, who's wearing a matching frown, but decide not to question it. I get to the island where a plate piled with spaghetti and meatballs sits alongside a smaller plate with slices of garlic bread.

Just as I lift my head to thank Ezra again, his back tenses, and his head snaps up. He doesn't turn around, but his rigid stature is enough to tell me something isn't right. The atmosphere turns strained for reasons I'm unaware of.

Deciding not to make it a big deal, I sit at the island and pull the plate towards me after gathering my cutlery. Ignoring the prickly feel of the room, I give Ezra my thanks and tuck into the beautifully-cooked meal before me.

I fork a mouthful of food into my mouth the moment Nix walks through the door, shirtless and covered in sweat. My mouth suddenly dries, and swallowing my food becomes a difficult task when I spy well-defined abs and an Adonis belt that disappears underneath the pair of jeans that hang low on his hips. He's all muscle, not an ounce of fat on him, and he's nothing short of gorgeous. A fluttering in my belly begins, and I'm pretty certain that isn't down to hunger.

I drag my eyes away when I feel a blush rising to my cheeks, painfully swallowing the mouthful of spaghetti, and focus my thoughts on something other than the beads of sweat that trailed over his chest and over every ridge of muscle.

With my back turned, I hear Nix ask, "Why's it so quiet in here? And why does everyone seem so, I don't know, tense?"

I don't answer, given that I don't understand it myself, so I focus on eating my food and keeping my eyes away from Nix's naked chest. The others don't answer him either, going about their business in awkward silence. The atmosphere in the room has me shuffling on my seat in discomfort. My stomach sours, making the rest of the food in front of me less appetising than it was before.

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