I hadn’t told him the truth. That even though I knew I shouldn’t and was doing everything in my power not to allow it, I was falling in love with him. That I might even already be there. I didn’t say anything other than that I wanted him. I’d even told myself that, if we kept it purely physical, it would be okay, but I had to draw those lines. I just hadn’t told him why.

I took a shaky breath, needing to explain even if it couldn’t fix this. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I wasn’t thinking about you—”

“Of course you weren’t.” He looked away as the water bottle crinkled under his grip. “That’s your thing, right? Always thinking about yourself.”

Ice drenched my skin. I’d said that to him by the tree house, after everything had gone down with Misha. I’d told him I was selfish, and Misha had been right. Zayne had told me that wasn’t true.

Taking a step back, I tried to breathe through what poured out of me, but it was deep-rooted and it overwhelmed what I felt from him.

“Dammit,” he growled, tossing the water bottle onto the couch. It bounced off the cushion and thumped onto the floor. He thrust a hand through his hair, dragging it back from his face. “We need to end this conversation.”

I stood there, arms at my sides.

“I don’t know what I was thinking tonight. Why I said any of those things to you,” he said, sounding very weary. “Tonight was a mistake, and we need to forget all of this.”

“Yeah,” I heard myself whisper.

His gaze shot to mine, and his jaw hardened. He smiled, but it was nothing like the smiles I knew. “Good news is, I don’t think we have to be worried about being distracted any longer, because this...this isn’t going to happen again.”

24

The next couple of days sucked for a multitude of reasons.

Obviously the whole museum-tour thing had been nixed, not just because of what had happened between Zayne and I, but because it hadn’t felt right after the last Warden death. Still, that didn’t stop the rush of disappointment whenever I thought about those plans.

Hunting for the Harbinger each night had been a snoozefest—an awkward, strained snoozefest. We found nothing each night, not even a Raver. I guessed that wasn’t exactly bad news, since no Warden had been killed, but it meant we were no closer to finding the Harbinger.