cheekbones matched a wide, expressive mouth that was finished off with a jaw that could’ve been carved from granite.
I wished he was less attractive—or that I was less shallow—but even if both were the case, it would make little difference at the end of the day. Zayne wasn’t just a pretty package that hid an ugly interior or a vapid personality. He was wicked smart, with a keen intelligence that was as sharp as his wit. I found him funny and entertaining, even when he was getting on my nerves and being overprotective. Most important, though, Zayne was genuinely kind, and God, kindness was so underrated by most.
He had a good heart, a big and gracious one, even though he was missing a part of his soul.
There was a saying that the eyes were the window to the soul, and it was true. At least for Wardens it was and, because of what happened to him, his eyes were a pale, frosty shade of blue.
He’d been dating Layla, the half demon, half Warden he’d grown up with, who also happened to be the daughter of Lilith. She and Zayne had kissed and, because of the way Lilith’s abilities had manifested in Layla, she’d taken a part of his soul.
My hands curled into fists. The whole soul-sucking thing had been accidental, and Zayne had known the risks involved, but that didn’t stop the flash of anger and something far more sour that shot through me. Zayne had wanted her bad enough—loved her enough—to take that risk. To put himself and his life beyond this one into jeopardy just to kiss her.
That was hard-core, because I doubted a less-than-whole soul was looked upon favorably when one got to the Pearly Gates, no matter how good someone’s heart was.
That kind of love couldn’t just die, not in seven months, and something I didn’t want to acknowledge—something I had filed away in that cabinet—wilted a little in my chest.
“You doing okay?” Zayne asked as he placed the bag and rolled-up paper on the island. The scent coming from the brown bag reminded me of grilled meat.
Wondering if he was picking up anything through the bond, I kept my eyes trained on the paper bag as I nodded. “Yeah. So, um, about last night.”
“What about it?”
“I’m sorry for, you know, blubbering all over you.” Heat swept over my cheeks.
“You don’t need to apologize, Trin. You’ve been through a lot—”
“So have you.” I stared at my fingers and my chipped, blunt nails.
“You needed me, and I needed to be there.” Zayne made it sound so simple, as if that was the way it always had been.
“You said that last night.”
“Still holds true today.”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded again as I drew in a long breath and then let it out slowly. I felt the warmth of his hand before his fingers pressed under my chin. The moment his skin touched mine, an odd shock of electricity, of awareness, coursed through me, and I had no idea if that was due to the bond or if it was just him. That unique scent of his, which reminded me of wintermint, teased my senses. He tipped my head up, lifting my gaze to his.
Zayne was leaning across the island, his arm stretched over the rolled paper. That pale gaze flickered over my face, and one side of his lips curled up. “You’re wearing your glasses.”
“I am.”
That half grin grew. “You don’t wear them often.”
I didn’t, and not because of some lame vanity reason. Other than reading or being on the laptop, they didn’t help much other than to make some things a little less blurry.
“I like them. I like them on you.”
My glasses were just plain square black rims, no cool color or pattern, but I suddenly felt like I should wear them more often.
And then I wasn’t thinking about my glasses, because the fingers on my chin shifted and I felt his thumb slide along the skin just under my lip. A fine shiver danced over my skin, followed by a wholly different kind of flush, one that was heady and exhilarating.
You want to kiss me again, don’t you?
I could hear him speak those words as if he’d said them out loud, like he had after I’d helped remove an imp’s claw from his chest. I’d said yes then, without hesitation, even though it hadn’t exactly been a wise idea.
Unwise ideas have always been fun—a lot of fun.
His gaze lowered, lashes shielding his eyes, and I