Chapter 71 071

Chapter 71 071

Rayna
I was still in Zero’s room. I had no idea why, but I wasn't complaining, not one bit That was the first thing I knew, not questioned, not doubted. I was on the chaise, my spine pressed into familiar velvet, and my legs crossed at the ankles the way they always were when I tried to look composed. The lights were dim as always, and the air was heavy even though I wasn't sure why. The room breathed around me like it always did, but Zero wasn’t there, and that didn't sit right with me.

Zero was meant to be in here. He always was, so what could have changed this time?

With a small shake of my head, I pushed the thoughts aside. The absence tugged at me, subtle at first, but then it became sharper. I straightened, my fingers digging into the arm of the chaise as I scanned the room. The bed was untouched, the shadows lay where they always did. In a nutshell, everywhere was neat, and too quiet, like he hadn't even been in here for days.

That couldn't be possible, right?

“Zero?” I called, my voice steady, too steady if you asked me. “Zero? Can you hear me?”

I didn't get an answer, unless silence coming at me from all corners could be considered one.

Without so much as wasting another second, I stood, unease sliding under my skin. It felt wrong to be alone in a place that had never let me be. And like I wasn't already going through it, the silence wasn’t watching me anymore. It was waiting.

I was this close to giving up, or maybe doing something drastic, when the door slid open.

My breath caught as he stepped inside like he always did, his steps controlled, and unhurried. Zero was dressed in black that swallowed the light instead of reflecting it, and it didn't help that my chest loosened and tightened all at once.

“Where were you?” I asked, relief bleeding into irritation. “I thought you…”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked towards me. This probably wasn't the right time to discuss this, but the precision and purpose in his steps went shivers down my spine.

I took a step back without meaning to, my spine brushing the wall behind me. My heart started to race, anticipation curling low and dangerous.

“Zero?” I tried again.

I barely had time to part my lips before his hand closed around my wrist, and the world tilted then.

In the blink of an eye, he'd pulled me upright, spun me with ruthless precision, and pressed me flush against the wall. The air left my lungs in a sharp breath as my palms met the cold surface, before being guided behind me, trapped there by his grip.

He stepped in close, too close that I felt my face pressed against the wall.

I felt him then, solid and unmistakable, and my cheeks heated up immediately. There was no way I could ignore the heat of him even if i tried. He was everywhere, the evidence of his want pressing into me with intention so deep I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep me from moaning. My pulse went wild after that, a rush of sensation stealing the strength from my knees.

“Zero,” I breathed, my voice betraying me. “What are you doing?’

His mouth brushed my neck. It wasn't a kiss at first, but just breath. Then his lips followed next, slow and deliberate, and dragging along sensitive skin as if he were savoring the reaction he knew he was pulling from me.

“You’re beautiful when you stop pretending,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, nothing like the silence I knew. “When you stop fighting what you already feel.”

My head tipped back helplessly, my body responding before I could stop it. Every nerve felt alive, buzzing, tuned only to him.

“You’ve been asking the wrong questions,” he continued softly, his lips grazing my skin as his words sank in. “As if you didn’t already know.”

My breath stuttered at his words. I knew so many things were wrong, but I just couldn't bring myself to focus on them, not when he sounded like honey glazed in something dangerously sexy.

“You want to know if I want you?” His mouth lingered just below my ear, his voice a promise and a warning all at once. “This is your answer.”

My body arched before I could think better of it, and then….

I woke up.

I gasped, sucking in air like I’d been underwater too long, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. The ceiling above me swam into focus, unfamiliar and painfully real.

My room. I was in my room, nowhere near Zero or his hotel room and it was morning.

Shit.

I pressed a hand to my chest, then dragged it over my face, groaning softly. My body was still humming, my nerves overstimulated, with heat pooling low and insistent in a way that made me painfully aware of myself.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “What the hell was that all about?”

I tried to shake it off, but the dream clung to me like a second skin. I could still feel the weight of him, I could still hear the sound of his voice, and the certainty in the way he’d touched me, I would have melted in his arms if that were to ever come to pass. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to fade.

It didn’t.

I needed to move, I told myself. I told myself I needed to breathe, to get out of my own head before it swallowed me whole.

Without thinking, I got out of bed and ran into the bathroom. A bath helped, but barely. I dressed afterward with more care than necessary, grounding myself in routine before slipping out of my room.

The garden was my first instinct, but I never made it there.

Somewhere along the way, distraction took hold in the form of a corridor I didn’t usually walk. I gave myself five seconds to act before I took a turn I hadn’t noticed before. I tried to pull myself back, to head back the way I was supposed to go, but curiosity, sharp and reckless, tugged me forward.

I shouldn’t have been there, and I knew that the moment I saw the door. It was plain, unmarked and tucked into a shadowed alcove like it didn’t exist unless you were looking for it. My pulse picked up as I eased it open, the hinges silent, but almost welcoming.

I had no idea what was waiting on the other side, but best believe an office wasn't inythe least. It was small, sparse and functional, but something in the desk caught my eye.

A ledger.

It was thick and worn, with its pages yellowed with age and use.

I don’t know what made me step closer, I don’t know why my fingers trembled as I flipped it open. Names filled the pages in precise handwriting, organized and methodical. I scanned without meaning to, then I stopped, because something else had caught my attention.

My breath left me in a slow, silent exhale,, because there it was.

My name, written clearly and deliberately.

Rayna, and whatever this ledger was,I was already in it.

But why?

The realization settled heavy and cold in my chest as the room seemed to close in around me.

I had just found something I was never meant to see, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive knowing what came next.