Rage and Ruin by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Author:Jennifer L. Armentrout
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkyard Press
Published: 2020-03-27T12:47:30+00:00

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.

It also meant there was a lot of downtime with no teasing between Zayne and I, no playful bickering or long talks about his clan or if I missed the Community. Zayne wasn’t rude toward me; he was remote and utterly unreachable while we trained and looked for the Harbinger. Everything was just...professional between us, and while that helped during training with the blindfold, it made me so, so sad. Heartsick, really.

I picked up nothing from him through the bond. And there was a tiny, selfish part of me that was grateful, because I wanted to forget that slimy feeling of shame that was the result of my own actions, intentionally or not.

Zayne was there every day, but he wasn’t and I wondered if this was how it was going to be from now on. We were bonded till death, which, hopefully, was a long time off.

That was also a long time to miss the easiness between us, the camaraderie and the fun we’d had just being in each other’s company. It was a long time to mourn the loss of everything that had made Zayne become what he meant to me, which was more than my Protector, more than just my friend.

It seemed a little too late to realize that pretending hadn’t stopped my feelings for him from growing. Neither had my stupid, faulty mental file cabinet. All I’d managed to do was camouflage my emotions. That drawer named ZAYNE had been ripped open and everything I’d felt for him dumped out, scattered all over me. It was a mess I sifted through each night after returning to the apartment.

I never explained to Zayne what I’d meant about the whole no-kissing rule and why I’d sought to establish it. I never told him that he was the furthest thing from a pastime. That he and I weren’t him and Layla. That what I felt for him had nothing to do with boredom or seeking a physical release and had everything to do with wanting too much of what we could not have.

Zayne didn’t bring it up. It became something we didn’t acknowledge but that remained a wall erected between us. By the next week after what I was now referring to as Trin Is an Idiot night—TIAI for short—I woke still aching but resigned. Maybe this was for the best. We couldn’t be together.

And we wouldn’t be.

I twisted my damp hair up and shoved a clip into the mass, grabbed my phone and then slipped on my glasses.

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