“You don't need to worry, though. I'm safe. I promise.”
Her heart softened. “I know that.”
Brock looked at Zayne now. “Besides, I would sooner shove my arm in a meat grinder. Might be less painful.” Then he raised a hand to Kira. “That has nothing to do with you. You're lovely company.”
Looking at Zayne as well, pressure fought to escape her chest, but she didn't know how to relieve it. “Trust me, I know.”
“So, I'm going to just talk to you and sit by you sometimes. Little things that add good details to the story. It helps for Mel to see.”
Kira nodded.
Now, Mellie latched onto Zayne, eyes scouring every bit of him. “No blood. Well done.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body melting against his, while she looked up into his eyes. “Thank you for humoring me.”
Then she eased under his arm and settled her hand against his chest like she always did. But tonight, her thumb ran slow circles along him, and then her palm crested a ridge of muscle, tightening his shirt against him. Kira put her hand in that exact position when they kissed.
She remembered how he felt. How Zayne Riven felt.
What an insane situation.
“I love this shirt,” Mellie said.
Of course, she did. Zayne looked beautiful in it, and Mellie didn't need to pretend to be his cousin. She stared and touched and counted the days to marry him.
Kira guzzled the rest of her glass and removed herself from the room, shocked by her horrible behavior.
Jealousy?
When did Kira ever feel jealous of anyone?
And she didn't gawk at men. She'd lost her mind.
Needing a distraction, she fled to a sink of dirty dishes and filled it with hot, soapy water. Took out her frustration on the cheese crusted onto a sheet pan.
The way Kira acted right now needed to stop. Maybe she was cracking under the stress of captivity.
She never expected to see her stranger again, and they made no promises to each other. Of course, they both lived their own lives after that night, and Mellie did nothing wrong being with her fiancé. The blazing inferno in Kira's gut didn't make sense because she could lay no claim to Zayne. No one wronged her.
It was unfair to resent Mellie. What did she do with this bitter envy overlaying everything she saw? She was going to explode.
So many overwhelming emotions filled her, each its own massive tsunami wave that crashed into her heart. And nothing she felt fit together right.
It was like a blizzard whited out her mind and crushed her beneath unending snow while fire also caught parched grass and consumed her.
Her emotions were conflicting and out of control.
Her excruciating longing to see him again was now relieved, and yet worse than ever because her stranger was the least reachable man in the empire.
Tender awe at his dedication stormed with indignation—no fury—that he denied her the chance to reciprocate.
Hate—hate—for how he made her feel all these years, and nothing close to hate.
Not hate whatsoever.
The furthest from hate.
An aching, screaming, gaping wound of so much not-hate.
Her heart fluttered down into her stomach, and gentle warmth burrowed deeper than the heat of her frustration.
