“Here.” He offered the cookie. “Let me know when you want your drink, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, taking one bite and then another. I heard the bag crinkle as Zayne fished out a cookie for himself. After a few minutes, I relaxed into him.

“Something I thought about when I was getting this stuff,” Zayne said, and I liked being this close when he talked. I could feel his words. “I hope to God Peanut wasn’t hanging around.”

I laughed, almost choking on my cookie. “If he was, I wasn’t aware.”

“That’s not the confirmation I was looking for.”

Grinning as I felt his lips coast over my shoulder, I said, “I don’t think he was. I can’t imagine him not saying anything by now.”

“Thirsty?” When I nodded, he reached for the soda, popped the tab and offered it to me. Another cookie ended up in my other hand. He shifted behind me, resting back against the headboard. “I could sleep like this.”

“Really?” I alternated between my cookie and my Coke.

“Yeah.” His arm tightened around my waist.

I grinned. “I think I could, too.”

“Minus the cookie and Coke.”

“I’d cuddle them.”

He chuckled, and that felt even better, but then he dropped his head to my neck, nuzzling there, sending a wicked little shiver down my spine. With no rules, Zayne was cuddly, touchy and sweet. Part of me wasn’t surprised to discover that. It was Zayne after all, but I was still a little surprised—pleasantly surprised. I never thought I’d be the type who enjoyed the causal touches or kisses, the way he was holding me so close, but I did. And I didn’t just enjoy it, I lo—

A cold, sharp slice swept through my stomach as I swallowed the last bit of chocolate. I didn’t just like any of this. There was a far stronger emotion that seemed even more dangerous to acknowledge now.

Nothing had happened yet, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a consequence waiting patiently for us around the next corner. No matter how right or beautiful what we’d just shared felt, it was forbidden, and as much as I hoped Zayne was right, that this rule was just a method of control, I feared he might be wrong.

Beyond that, our lives were... Well, either of us could bite the bullet tomorrow. This Trueborn—the Harbinger—was deadly. Zayne could die, and I...

“Hey,” he said softly, hand brushing my arm.

I closed my eyes, trying to stop the bombardment of fears, but it was like a floodgate being breached.

The Coke left my hand, ending up on the nightstand. Cool, damp fingers curled around my chin, turning my head toward his. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” I smiled, not wanting to ruin this.

His gaze flickered over my face. “Talk to me, Trin.”

Talk to me.