Chapter 34: THIRTY FOUR

Zeke POV

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling of Sky's old room, my arms folded behind my head. Faded posters of bands and actors were taped up in a chaotic array, edges peeling and corners curling inward, like they were clinging on for dear life.

There were so many of them—eyes everywhere. Watching me. Judging me. I couldn't help but wonder how she ever slept in here with so many faces staring down at her. Payne stirred in the back of my mind, letting out a soft growl of annoyance.

"She likes being looked at." he muttered, almost as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why do you think she put them up in the first place? She likes being the center of attention. Always has." A wry smile tugged at my lips. Payne wasn't wrong. Sky thrived on attention—always did.

Even as a teenager, she walked with that confident, carefree swagger that drew eyes without her even trying. Maybe it was part of her charm, or maybe it was her way of masking the pain she kept buried deep down. Whatever it was, she owned it, and no one could deny her that power. The thought made me snort softly, and the sudden noise made her stir.

She shifted next to me, her arm moving to drape lazily across my chest. My breath caught as her warmth seeped into me, spreading like wildfire through my veins. Her head tucked under my chin, and I froze, terrified that any slight movement would wake her and shatter this fragile moment.

"Don't move, idiot." Payne grumbled, almost as breathless as I was. "She's finally close. Don't screw this up."

My body relaxed, the tension bleeding out as I slowly released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The scent of her hair filled my nose—coconut and something distinctly her, familiar and wild all at once. It hit me like a punch to the gut, and memories flooded back, dragging me under.

She always smelled like that. I remembered how it used to calm me down when I stormed out of my house, fists clenched and chest heaving from another row with my parents. It never took much to set them off—anything from getting dirt on my clothes to not sitting straight enough at dinner. My father would sneer at me, his words cutting deeper than any blade, telling me I was useless, a disappointment.

My mother would just sit there, eyes cold and detached, as if pretending I didn't exist was better than acknowledging my failures. One night, after Dad had thrown a bottle that shattered against the wall just inches from my head, I had bolted. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran until my lungs burned, collapsing on the curb near the edge of the pack lands. I wanted to scream, to break something—anything to relieve the rage festering in my chest. That's when I heard her.

"Zeke?" Her voice had been soft, tentative. I looked up, and there she was—Sky, leaning against the lamppost with a cigarette between her lips, one eyebrow raised like she was unimpressed by the world.

She didn't say anything else, just walked over, crouched down next to me, and handed me the cigarette. I didn't even smoke, but I took it, mostly because it was her offering it. We sat in silence, the smoke swirling between us, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like a failure. She never made me feel worthless, never looked at me like I was something broken to be fixed.

She just... saw me.

"Asshole," Payne muttered in my head, dragging me back to the present. "You never told her any of that. Never let her in. Now look at you—staring at her like she's your salvation, when you never once gave her the truth."

I swallowed hard, shifting just enough to look at her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, her bruises fading, leaving just faint traces of the violence she'd endured. My chest tightened. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed.

Again.

My eyes wandered around her room, taking in the remnants of a life I never got to know.

What was her life like after this? Did she have a place of her own, filled with mismatched furniture and vibrant colors, or was it more organized—everything in its place like she always kept her locker at school? Did she prefer the chaos of life or something quieter? I hated that I didn't know. I hated that I hadn't been there to see who she became, to know every little detail about her world.

My eyes grew heavy, but I forced them open, not daring to fall asleep. I didn't want to risk Neo finding me here. He'd probably tear me apart for daring to be this close to her. I didn't blame him. I didn't deserve her, not after everything that happened. I just wanted to stay close a little longer, to make sure she was really alright.

"You're drifting." Payne whispered, waking me from what felt like a 10-second doze. Leaning forward, I slid carefully out of the bed, my boots thudding softly against the floor. I glanced back to check she was still sleeping, her face relaxed and peaceful. I couldn't help but smile, feeling a strange sense of relief at knowing she was healing.

I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, letting my lips linger for just a second longer than I should have. Then I gently pulled the blanket back over her, making sure she stayed warm. I straightened, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out to touch her one last time.

As I reached the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, whispering the words I didn't dare to say while she was awake.

"I will keep you safe."

I pulled the door closed behind me, stepping into the hallway. The sinking feeling hit me the moment I turned, and there he was—one of Neo's inner circle, leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face.

"Beta," he greeted me, his tone smug and confident as he pushed off the wall and sauntered away. My stomach twisted, dread pooling like ice in my veins. He knew. And if he knew, Neo would know soon too.

Shit.