Dragging my gaze back to his face, I thought about how his features still were far clearer than they had been before. In this kind of light, I would’ve never been able to make out the slash of his brow or the set of his lips. That hadn’t been my imagination. It had to be because of what he was, of the grace inside him. Nothing else around me seemed more clear. I couldn’t remember what it was like when I saw my father. Those rare visits were all too brief, and I’d had other concerns when I’d been with Gabriel, like staying alive for example, and when I met the Throne. But when I thought about it, I had seen those creepy eyes in the Throne’s wings. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to see something that small at that distance.

Halfway through ordering an Uber, Zayne’s fingers stilled and he looked over at me.

“Sorry.” I flushed. “I was staring at you like a total creeper.”

“You should know by now that I have no problem with you staring at me.” He handed my phone over, and after I slid it into my back pocket, he caught my hand and tugged me against his chest, and I burrowed in like a barnacle. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I started to lift my head.

“For what?” he repeated with a low laugh as he cupped the back of my head, keeping me there, with my cheek above his heart. “For leaving you.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Zayne. It’s not like you chose to.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make it easier knowing that you’ve been through Hell, physically and mentally, and I couldn’t be there for you.” His next breath was ragged. “I wanted to go to you as soon as I realized I could, but when I did, well, that sure as Hell didn’t help.”

I had questions about exactly what happened to him, but they’d have to wait. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“Agreed.” His fingers curled through my hair. “And I’m not going to leave you. Never again, Trin. Never.”

18

The ride to the apartment was...interesting.

The driver, an older man, kept glancing in the back seat, and I didn’t think it had much to do with Zayne being shirtless or the fact I was attached to his side like we were pieces of Velcro. There was a nervousness in the older man’s movements and chatter that ended as abruptly as it started.

When the man’s eyes weren’t on the road or darting to the back seat, they were on the gently swinging cross hanging from his rearview mirror.