Zane | ✔︎

Chapter Thirty-Seven | Villain to you.

Zane sat inside the centre tent with his large, muscled arms crossed, the blanket covering his bottom half after it graced his rough skin with its wool.

He had to take in the heavy scent of thousands of rogues in one place, all of them who were standing outside in utter fear, in utter pooling anxiety of what might happen to them, who were standing outside in anticipation of what he'd do or what he'd say to them.

They didn't dare to breathe or even move knowing the Death Lust Alpha was in the hive of the rogues, where they were supposed to be safe. Where they were supposed to be away from all authority, from all packs, from all Alphas and Alpha Gods.

They couldn't comprehend the fact that most of their families and friends were killed by him.

Yet they couldn't muster the courage to say anything or fight over anything.

So far, even after shifting back into his own body, Zane did not utter a word.

Not even to her.

He looked inside the tent to find countless journals, a desk, a printer, and some supplies of farming. Most of the instruments of suspicion were covered in dirt, and the scent of this place resembled his woman's lavender. 

He could scrutinise the initials of her name on some items, the blanket he adorned on himself being hers, the only thing he'd let touch his body in this entire place.

Just like hers, most of these tents were housing these rogues who couldn't survive up there, up in the real world.

His cabinet was in another tent, getting changed into something appropriate after shifting back. Sam was taken by the concerned authorities of this cave, back to the people he needed to see once they coiled around him in an unbearing hug of love, and Zane did not possess the bullshit to think about him anymore.

All he knew was that he wanted her, now.

Azalea came inside the tent with a few clothes in her hands shortly after speaking with Skal, seeing her mate stare into space while staying still as a corpse.

She took a deep breath, keeping her voice quiet, within the reach of the tent.

"Zane." She whispered hesitantly with a kind voice, her voice returning to her beautiful blues, seeing Zane turn towards her softly and look at her with a cold face. 

She wavered to walk towards him, finding his usual guard present around him. A guard she had discovered the day she met him back in her G-17, a guard she never wanted to get used to.

Zane saw her and got up from his seat, snatching the clothes from her hands and instantly wearing them, not replying to anything.

Azalea felt numb after feeling him being cold with her as well. She waited for him to finish changing, momentarily revealing his hard manhood that was immediately covered by those borrowed clothes that were recently stitched.

He immediately walked up to her after his change and pulled her deeper into the tent with a pull to her hand.

She cleared her throat.

"You can—"

"Mea dea," He whispered back almost instantly, completely embracing her tightly into his arms, taking her aback after her chest crashed into his.

"What's wron—"

"My, Lea," Zane muttered to himself with a deeper voice, burying his face into her warm and heavenly-smelling neck, a part of her body that was his Roman empire, causing a cat to get her tongue caught.

Her voice couldn't come out, her hands twitching from the touch of his lips landing on her.

She felt his sparks transfer to her body in fits of energy surges from the mate bond. It was too dangerous of a phase to give into right now, but she was beyond being resistant to that now.