There was a saying that the eyes were the window to the soul, and it was true. At least for Wardens it was and, because of what happened to him, his eyes were a pale, frosty shade of blue.

He’d been dating Layla, the half demon, half Warden he’d grown up with, who also happened to be the daughter of Lilith. She and Zayne had kissed and, because of the way Lilith’s abilities had manifested in Layla, she’d taken a part of his soul.

My hands curled into fists. The whole soul-sucking thing had been accidental, and Zayne had known the risks involved, but that didn’t stop the flash of anger and something far more sour that shot through me. Zayne had wanted her bad enough—loved her enough—to take that risk. To put himself and his life beyond this one into jeopardy just to kiss her.

That was hard-core, because I doubted a less-than-whole soul was looked upon favorably when one got to the Pearly Gates, no matter how good someone’s heart was.

That kind of love couldn’t just die, not in seven months, and something I didn’t want to acknowledge—something I had filed away in that cabinet—wilted a little in my chest.

“You doing okay?” Zayne asked as he placed the bag and rolled-up paper on the island. The scent coming from the brown bag reminded me of grilled meat.

Wondering if he was picking up anything through the bond, I kept my eyes trained on the paper bag as I nodded. “Yeah. So, um, about last night.”

“What about it?”

“I’m sorry for, you know, blubbering all over you.” Heat swept over my cheeks.

“You don’t need to apologize, Trin. You’ve been through a lot—”

“So have you.” I stared at my fingers and my chipped, blunt nails.

“You needed me, and I needed to be there.” Zayne made it sound so simple, as if that was the way it always had been.

“You said that last night.”

“Still holds true today.”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded again as I drew in a long breath and then let it out slowly. I felt the warmth of his hand before his fingers pressed under my chin. The moment his skin touched mine, an odd shock of electricity, of awareness, coursed through me, and I had no idea if that was due to the bond or if it was just him. That unique scent of his, which reminded me of wintermint, teased my senses. He tipped my head up, lifting my gaze to his.

Zayne was leaning across the island, his arm stretched over the rolled paper. That pale gaze flickered over my face, and one side of his lips curled up. “You’re wearing your glasses.”

“I am.”

That half grin grew. “You don’t wear them often.”