He made a plain white T-shirt and dark denim jeans look like they were tailor-made for him and only him. The material stretched across his wide shoulders and chest yet was fitted to his narrow, tapered waist. All Wardens were large in their human form, but Zayne was one of the largest I’d ever seen, coming in around six and a half feet.

Zayne had beautiful thick blond hair with the kind of natural wave I couldn’t recreate with hours to spare, a YouTube tutorial and a dozen curling irons. Today it was tucked back in a knot at the nape of his neck, and I hoped to God that he never cut his hair.

He saw me immediately, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes from where I sat, I could feel his gaze on me. It was somehow heavy and gentle, and sent a fine shiver of awareness dancing down my arms, making me grateful that I wasn’t holding on to the glass any longer.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said as the elevator door slid shut behind him. “Glad to see you up and moving about.”

“Sorry I slept so late.” I lifted my hands and then dropped them back to my lap, unsure what to do with them. He was carrying some kind of paper rolled up and tucked under one arm and a brown paper sack in his other hand. “Do you need help with any of that?” I asked, even though that was a dumb question considering Zayne could lift a Ford Explorer with one hand.

“Nah. And don’t apologize. You needed the rest.” His features were blurry to me, even with my glasses on, but they became clearer and sharper with every step he took toward me.

My gaze skittered away, but that didn’t stop me from knowing what he looked like.

Which was utterly, breathtakingly, brutally beautiful. I could come up with more adjectives to describe him, but in all honesty, none would do him justice.

His skin was a golden hue that had nothing to do with being in the sun. High, broad cheekbones matched a wide, expressive mouth that was finished off with a jaw that could’ve been carved from granite.

I wished he was less attractive—or that I was less shallow—but even if both were the case, it would make little difference at the end of the day. Zayne wasn’t just a pretty package that hid an ugly interior or a vapid personality. He was wicked smart, with a keen intelligence that was as sharp as his wit. I found him funny and entertaining, even when he was getting on my nerves and being overprotective. Most important, though, Zayne was genuinely kind, and God, kindness was so underrated by most.

He had a good heart, a big and gracious one, even though he was missing a part of his soul.