ZINA
Zina was afraid of everything.
Whether it be her new ability to shift. Or the newly acquired bond. Or her restored sight... she was afraid of it all.
Maybe it was because ever since she was little, her adoptive mother drilled in her the infamous law of threes. The law that stipulates that when one is t with trouble three tis in a row, then a stream of troubles would never end in the person’s life.
However, her adoptive mother made her know that there was another law of three engraved at the other side of the coin. The unspoken law that stipulated that whenever one is t with undeserved good fortune three tis in a row, then Yama the god of death must be playing a cruel joke on such a person and a bag of misfortune surely was waiting at the end of the road.
The law of threes happened to Zina; and in her case she bit both sides of the coin. In the first case, Eldric sent her to the GreenLands, on her way she was kidnapped, and eventually she was killed.
That was three misfortunes in two weeks, each of them connected by so twist of fate.
Then Zina had shifted, regained her sight, and gained the bond.
That was three good things in the space of re hours.
Waiting for her unending troubles and bag of misfortunes had to be the most torturous thing Zina ever did. Which was why she never asked about that night; she was dreadfully afraid of what it could an for her— the secrets and the lies that might be attached to it.
His fingers that tilted her head up by the jaw caressed her cheeks, almost tenderly. "Since you won’t ask, I will tell you. Believe , I myself am not a fan of not confronting the secrets of the night."
Zina shook her head stubbornly even though she could hardly shake off his grip on her. "Do not tell ." she gritted, a whispered, raw, unspoken plea hanging in the air between the both of them.
Daemon, of course, ignored her plea. "That night, you died."
The words were spoken brutally cruelly, like it ant nothing and everything at the sa ti.
"And after you died, sohow you ca to live." he whispered harshly, his breath fanning against her face like a wanton thing.
Zina wanted to escape from him—his harsh interrogation, his torrid persistence, the overwhelming need to hold him and assuage the pain and pleasure that flared in her at the sa ti driving to the precipice of madness... but she found she could not escape from him.
Daemon NorthSteed was not the kind of man one chose to escape from. He was not the kind of man she could easily hide away from. Whether she was blind or could see, his presence had always been one that magnets her like the force of nature, ensnaring her like the inescapable web of a wild spider.
"You know all this though, don’t you?" he whispered wantonly in her ear just as sothing like a ball of fire encasing her desire grew in her, "since we are decided on that, then why don’t you tell who you really are, Zina WolfKnight?"
Wrong question.
A very wrong one.
How could Zina possibly answer on sothing she herself was unaware of. A question she knew nothing about. But what beca really shaful of her lack of knowledge of herself and her origins was the fact that it seed the man before her knew far more about her than she could ever know about herself.
The knowledge pressed on her like a dreadful thing. She bunched her fists by her sides as another heat slamd into her like the rush of a tornado, taking away her breath until all she could see was red.
She knew it was just the first day of her heat that would last for three days, but she still had to comnd Daemon for his control before, for even herself was driven crazy by the amount of pheromones that her body was producing. And yet, Daemon was like a block of ice before it; without a reaction and seemingly at ease.
But was he truly at ease? The lack of knowledge drove her crazy. Only if she could see him... or his eyes, then she would know if he was truly unaffected.
"I do not know who I am, Daemon." She whispered breathlessly, out of her mind. In her own opinion, the shaful words had rolled off her lips way too easily, for her answer to his question rang true in more ways than one.
It was beyond just her biological identity... whether it be her true self—if she had any—the life she was living, her goals and aspirations, Zina truly didn’t know who she was. And the man before her was far from the sa as her unstable self.
The way Daemon relentlessly pursued the world and his aspirations, whether through his manipulative sches, his hard grasped control, his unwavering confidence showed that he was a man who had never been in doubt of himself and his aspirations... and that fact made them look like a bad match.
Zina was almost sure that the moon goddess had made yet another horrible mistake with her second chance mate.
"What have you been doing all these years then?" He asked harshly even as his fingers still caressed her cheeks with a tenderness that rivalled his harsh words. His voice held a disbelief for her that Zina was not acquainted with. "Do you truly expect to believe that you know nothing? Nothing about your origins? Do you also know nothing about how the people of the Arctic North paid heavy taxes in the na of the incorruptible Theta whom you embody?"
Zina’s balled fists trembled by her sides as his doubt of her was once again laid bare before her. She slapped his hand on her cheeks away, almost regretting her mission to evoke so sort of connection between her and the man before her whose doubt for her was like a bad seed constantly watered. It grew alright, but with spiked thorns.
"Believe what you want then." She spat out, blindly storming out of the room.
She didn’t know where she was, but all she knew was that she had to get away from that man before she made a horrible judgent like jump him or sothing worse.
She was not in her right mind. No one told her that Heat turned one into an emotional puddle of ss. Her thoughts were all over the place and she was feeling too much and processing way too little of it.
His hurried steps rang behind her as Zina touched a pillar, trying to make sense of the direction she was walking to. At least it seed she was still at the Arctic North if the crystal glass feel of the pillars was anything to go by.
"Co back here, Theta!" His voice was a nacing growl, and all the control that was normally inlaid with his tone was gone leaving behind a raw command.
It was honestly scary. Zina had never heard the man shout or lose his facade of coolness. But stubbornness would not make her acquiesce. She could sense whispered chatters about her—probably from the servants of the castle—but she could hardly care.
So because she could, she scread back. "Make , Alpha King!"
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