Stone Cold Touch. Jennifer L. Armentrout

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on the poor thing while I’d been grounded and Roth had disappeared. About a week ago, it had reappeared in my bedroom, the roof and sides reassembled. I assumed it had been Zayne, and I didn’t know why he did it or why I’d been relieved to see it. Obviously, I had problems with letting go of things.

      Bambi managed to get all six feet of her coiled into the top floor, her head resting on the miniature bed. She looked...comfy. And it looked weird.

      Minutes passed as I stared at the demonic familiar. A chill formed in my chest, replacing the god-awful burn. Why had Roth given her up to me? Bambi was his familiar, not mine, and he’d always seemed fond of the snake. It didn’t make sense, but it probably also didn’t matter. Long ago, he’d admitted there were things he did without any reason.

      And as it turned out, I was just one of those many things.

      It hurt something bad as I climbed into bed, lying on my uninjured arm. It wasn’t even late as I squeezed my eyes shut, but it felt like forever since this morning. Everything seemed to have changed in the span of a few hours.

      I smelled like an Upper Level demon. Roth was back and he was relatively unharmed. A Lilin had been born. Apparently an orgasm was apocalyptic. And Roth...he’d never cared about me.

      I’d just been a job to him.

      And nothing more.

      * * *

      My head ached as though I’d spent the night banging it against the wall, which would’ve been more fun and fruitful than staring at the ceiling, replaying all the moments Roth and I had shared. I’d been looking for a fatal flaw in our wannabe relationship and that had been as productive as drilling holes in a bucket and trying to carry water in it.

      Roth was a demon.

      A male demon.

      A male demon who liked to covet pretty things.

      And I was as inexperienced as a nun, so of course, I’d attributed a lot to what he’d said to me, to the way he’d looked at me, to every touch and kiss. I’d thought it all meant something and the hurt was intense, tasting like bitter grapes in the back of my mouth. Strangely, as much as my throat and eyes burned and for all the tears that built in my eyes, those tears didn’t fall. I wished they would. It felt as though there’d be something cleansing in the act.

      When it came time to rise for class, I snuggled down under the heavy, warm comforter. I waited for someone to come and tell me to get out of bed, but all that came were the footsteps of Nicolai around the time he’d leave to take me to school. He didn’t open the door to check in. After a few seconds, his steps faded down the hall.

      I closed my eyes, unsure if I should be grateful that no one seemed to care or if I should be hurt by that. Before Roth...before the clan knew of him and our relationship, Abbot or someone would’ve been in here, dragging me out of the bed or at least making sure Freddy Krueger hadn’t snatched me. Now? Not so much. More than ever before, I was a permanent guest in their home, one that had outstayed her welcome.

      As I drifted back off, my brain wandered in every direction. An old plan resurfaced, one I hadn’t given much thought to in a while. My sleepy gaze drifted to my desk. The empty OJ glass rested on top of the stack of college applications. Those papers were nearly forgotten and it was probably too late to seriously consider enrolling for next fall, but maybe that was what I’d do.

      Screw all of this—the Lilin, Roth and all the Wardens. I could go to college far away from here and pretend to be...pretend to be what? Normal? I could do it. I’d been doing it for so long. Blend in among the humans and make this all into a distant memory. It was a selfish decision, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be selfish and I didn’t want to be here, in this body any longer or stuck with these problems.

      One good thing was I wouldn’t see him at school. There was no reason for Roth to return there.

      At some point I drifted off again, awakening when I felt the bed shift under sudden, unexpected weight and the stirring of the covers. Disoriented, I blinked open my eyes. Heart kicking in my chest, I glanced over my shoulder.

      Two cerulean eyes met mine.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      Zayne stared back at me, momentarily obscured by a length of blond hair. I held my breath as he eased down on his side and tugged the covers up to his waist. My gaze dipped. He was wearing a gray cotton shirt and it stretched taut over his shoulders as he reached under the comforter, finding me in the bundle of blankets. With his arm around my waist, he snagged me back against his chest. Every muscle in my body tensed as he settled in behind me, curving his body around mine with a natural ease that scattered my senses. There was virtually nothing between us but our thin sleep clothes, which were no shield from the heat he radiated.

      And that warmth...oh. It seeped into my muscles, easing out the knots and all the sore spots. Within seconds, the rigidness flowed out of my spine and my cheek returned to the pillow. The bed turned into a cloud and I felt as if I was in one of those cheesy mattress commercials Stacey and Sam always made fun of, but Zayne had the power to change an ordinary mattress into something wonderful. I closed my eyes, letting my body sink down. In the moments that followed, I wasn’t thinking about anything and that was great.

      He lifted his hand from my waist long enough to brush strands of my hair out of his face and then I felt his warm breath against the back of my neck. A series of shivers danced over my skin. A different kind of tightness formed in my lower stomach as I focused on breathing normally and not as though I’d just attempted to run up and down bleachers.

      It had been a long, long time since Zayne had done this—climbed into my bed to rest instead of taking a deep sleep. Not since we were much, much younger, when sharing a bed was harmless and innocent, and no one could get the wrong idea about it. Shock flickered through me. Especially after last night, I didn’t expect this from him. He’d sensed that I’d been close to caving to the need. Truthfully, he was in constant danger when he was around me. At any moment, I could roll over and our mouths would be centimeters apart. And it would be so easy to take his soul.

      “How’s your arm?” he asked.

      When he spoke, his voice rumbled through me. I cleared my throat and then winced at how abrasive it sounded. “It’s okay.”

      “We should check it out later.” He shifted his arm and his hand ended up on my belly, just below my navel. I jerked back in surprise, but he didn’t pull away or move his hand. “It’s not why you didn’t go to school, then?”

      Swallowing a sigh, I pried my eyes open. On the nightstand, the neon green lights showed 9:01 a.m. I should be on my way to bio at this point. “No.”

      “Do you want to talk about it?”

      Talking about Roth while lying in bed with Zayne was the last possible thing I ever wanted to do. “No.”

      Silence fell between us as his chest rose and fell against my back in an even, deep rhythm. As relaxed as I was, my body was still hyperaware of his, of every breath he took and every tiny spasm of muscle. In the quiet, an ugly thought crept in. Had he lain like this with Danika? I had no right to the caustic burn of jealousy that invaded my blood, but it was there and it was wrong, because they were able to share more than I’d ever be able to share with

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