Zayn froze mid-step.
His entire body tensed, and for a heartbeat, he just stood there—eyes blank, breath stilled—like someone had sucker-punched him.Then his jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight, unforgiving line.
The glare he shot at his cousin was sudden and scorching, sharp enough to silence the room.Even Saif, broad-shouldered and built like a boulder, held Zayn’s glare with a raised brow—but there was a flicker of caution in his eyes, like a man recognizing another predator’s wound.Ramzi’s shoulders squared instinctively, a silent brace for tension, while Rylan leaned back in his chair, one brow arched in curiosity.Neither flinched, but the look they exchanged was sharp—more alert than puzzled, like soldiers catching the scent of a strange danger.
Without a word, Zayn turned his back on them and stalked to the side table, each step heavy with restrained force.His broad shoulders were rigid, muscles bunched beneath his shirt.He seized the coffee carafe with a grip that made the handle creak in protest, his knuckles bleaching white as he poured, jaw tight enough to crack stone.
“What about it?”he demanded, voice low and rough, like gravel dragged across glass.
The steam rose up, fogging his vision for a second—mercifully.But it wasn’t enough to chase away the memory: Azlyn, soft and warm in his arms, her breath catching as she moaned his name, the way she’d curled into him like he was the only safe place in the world.
He blinked hard.
Damn it.She still had that power over him.Even now.
Stop it!He had to stop thinking about Azlyn!Hell, he probably just needed to get laid.It had been…he paused for a moment, trying to remember the women he’d slept with in the past…however long it had been since he’d been with Azlyn.There hadn’t been anyone.No one…in a year?He hadn’t gotten laid in over a year?
Impossible!That wasn’t…he couldn’t…!
But yeah.It had been a whole damn year since he’d last had sex!No wonder he was in such a miserable mood all the time!He just needed to get laid!He just needed to sink himself into…!
“She died.”
Died?Azlyn was dead?“Who?”he snapped.No!That was absolutely impossible!Azlyn couldn’t be dead!
“Olivia Hister,” Ramzi replied, turning the tablet around to show the headline.“She was hit by a car late last night.”
For a long moment, Zayn was too relieved to fully process what his cousin was saying.Olivia Hister had died?The woman who had interviewed him on stage for over an hour was gone, but Azlyn, his lovely, beautiful, passionate Azlyn was alive?
“Are you okay?”Rylan asked, putting a hand to Zayn’s straining muscles.“Do you remember her?”He flipped the tablet around to show him the images.
Zayn managed to take a breath and tried to respond.But he was too…relieved…to speak as he looked at the images on the screen.At first, he only noticed the flashing red and blue lights, police officers taping off the area with crime scene tape, several cars and a black body bag being loaded onto a gurney.
He was about to turn away from the tablet when his breath caught.
There—off to the side of the frame—stood someone he hadn’t seen in a year.A year of aching, furious, sleepless nights.A year of missing her more than he’d ever admitted, even to himself.
Azlyn.
Zayn’s heart slammed against his ribs as he yanked the tablet closer, his hands suddenly trembling.He blinked hard, leaning in, half-convinced his mind was playing a cruel trick.But no—there she was.Gorgeous and heartbreakingly familiar.
His gaze devoured her.The same messy knot of dark, curly hair piled on top of her head, wisps springing free.The same delicate face that haunted his dreams.But now…her eyes were rimmed with red, and she was crying.
His gut twisted, a raw, helpless ache tearing through his chest.
“Zayn?”Ramzi’s voice was cautious, stepping into his line of sight.“What’s up?”
Zayn didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.He was locked in place, jaw clenched, eyes burning as he drank her in.The flashing blue lights from the police cars painted her skin in a pale, flickering glow, and somehow she looked even smaller than he remembered.Vulnerable.Alone.
And he was already mentally making plans—emotion crashing through him like a wave—ready to go to her.
“How did this happen?”Zayn asked, clearing his throat when the words came out raw and sharp-edged.
Saif looked over at him, concern flickering in his dark eyes—so similar to Zayn’s, just slightly less broody and slightly more judgmental.“What’s wrong?”he asked.“I thought…I knew that…well, after you came back from Chicago, you were angry at the world.But… did something happen between you and this Hister woman?”
Zayn shook his head, the movement tight and uneven.“No.”
