ZAYLA

Just immediately, the air in the room suddenly shifted.

Zane’s eyes darkened, that familiar warm honey turning into something molten and hungry. He leaned in, his hand still cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip like he was testing how far I’d let him go.

Ziven didn't move at first. His jaw was locked so tight I could see his muscles jumping. The jealousy from the car ride was still burning in his gaze, raw and barely contained. Zane’s fingers slid down my neck and gently wrapped around the bruises Matteo had left. Just then, Ziven's control cracked, just a flicker.

“Not too tight,” Zane murmured against...