Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(76)
And along those lines, there was an inconvenient truth she could no longer afford to deny: She needed Zane. To stay safe. To stay alive. This world he had brought her into was filled with living nightmares and terrible creatures, things she couldn’t even imagine in her wildest dreams: pagans, demons, shadow-walkers, and feral dragyri, like the one named Ghost. Hell, she reasoned, even the actress in the famous classical film King Kong had eventually turned to the ape when faced with all the terrifying monsters on the other side of the wall. She had sucked it up and hedged her bets—she had wanted to survive.
Jordan frowned.
Turned to the ape…
Glancing at Zane, she took in his broad, muscular shoulders, his proud warrior’s bearing, and his striking good looks, the way the gentle breeze rustled all that chestnut-brown hair, fanning it in and out of his sapphire-gold eyes—those terrifying, glorious dragon eyes—and she knew he was anything but an ape. She drew a slow, deep breath, mustered her courage, and hit the button on the panel that controlled the jets.
Silence.
Except for the waterfall.
“Zane.” The word wasn’t spoken very loud, but he heard her just the same. He pushed off the railing and turned to face her, both of his eyebrows cocked. “Can we talk?” she asked, her stomach clenched into knots.
He nodded solemnly and strolled across the deck.
Good Lord, it was like inviting a potential hurricane onto the shore.
He stopped at the edge of the tub, glanced at the steaming water, and engaged her eyes. “May I?”
She gulped and then nodded, tucking her knees out of the way so he could climb in without touching her.
The water sloshed as he made his entry, and much to her relief, he took a seat in a corner chair, opposite the lounger, once again giving her some much-needed space. “What is it, dragyra?” he finally asked, once his large, towering frame had settled.
Jordan swept her hand through the water, back and forth, as a paltry distraction. “You’re angry with me, aren’t you?”
His placid stare was like the calm beneath a storm: dormant, beautiful, and eerily deceptive. “I’m not angry, dragyra,” he said evenly. “I’m relieved. I’m disappointed. And I’m concerned.”
Good gracious, she thought. Would he always be that blunt? She stilled her hands and cleared her throat. “Relieved that I’m okay, that you and your lair-mates are going to be all right, but disappointed because I betrayed you, because Jace, Levi, and Nakai got hurt…because you almost got killed. And concerned…because?”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, to regard her straightaway. “Because starting tomorrow, we only have four more days, and you are no closer to me now than you were in that parking garage…you are not trying…and I don’t know how.”
The candidness of his words struck her like an anvil, and in that particular, guileless moment, he looked like the loneliest male on the planet—the loneliest male beyond the portal—as lost as Jordan felt. She closed her eyes and steadied her breath. “I am sorry that I placed your brothers in danger,” she whispered, hoping he could hear her over the ambient rush of the falls. “I’m sorry that you had to fight that…that shadow thing…and I’m also sorry about Dan, the way that affected you. I had to try, Zane. I had to.” She opened her eyes and waited as he slowly nodded his head.
“I know you did, Jordan. And that’s why I didn’t search your purse, look for the letter. That’s why I let the whole unholy spectacle play out.” She started to object, to explain her actions, but he waved his wrist in a gentle arc, indicating that he really wasn’t stuck on the details. “You weren’t entirely honest with me,” he said plainly, “and I haven’t been entirely honest with you, either. Perhaps we should start there…”
Jordan’s heart fluttered in her chest, and it immediately beat faster. Oh, shit—what hadn’t he told her? And how bad was it? She bit her lower lip and searched his eyes, almost too afraid to listen.
He shook his head, slid out of the seat, and crossed the tub with graceful ease, taking a seat in the bench beside her, then reaching for her hand.
She let him take it.
She was too unsteady to object.
“Nothing nefarious, dragyra,” he assured her. “Just careful omissions, here and there.” He rotated his thumb in a gentle circle, along the center of her palm. “You wrote that letter to Dan while I was at the temple, correct?”
She nodded and looked away, staring at the water.
He squeezed her hand. “In truth, you could have emailed him or called him, although the dragon lords would have known—they would have felt it.”
She frowned. “But I thought you said my cell phone wouldn’t work here—I checked it, and there was never a signal. And as for Wi-Fi, I figured that was the same kind of thing. The dragyri speak telepathically; you don’t have any use for those things.”
Zane offered her a half-hearted smile. “We rarely use those things with each other, at least not on this side of the portal, but we do conduct a lot of business with the human realm—not everything can be made or acquired in The Pantheon.” He watched as a small swell of water rolled over their linked fingers and cast a pale red shadow beneath the surface, projecting from the underwater lights. “On the back of the desk, in our suite, there was a sapphire paperweight—did you see it? It’s a round, palm-sized object with a flat, level base.”