Breakfast was a minefield of awkwardness, the air thick with tension as I entered the dining hall. It seemed like every pair of nostrils flared in unison, a collective sniffing out of the scent that lingered on me. I realized, too late, that I should have washed my hair, that the remnants of Lennon's presence still clung to me like a badge of honor. The eyes that met mine were a mix of curiosity and suspicion, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I took my seat. Zane, in particular, looked like he'd been punched in the gut. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his entire demeanor screamed of anger and frustration. I met his gaze, a spark of defiance igniting within me. I didn't care that he was upset; I didn't care that he was jealous. I was still reeling from the events of the previous night, and I wasn't about to let his emotions dictate my day. As we walked to ManPuri for our training session, Zane kept a distance from me, his silence a palpable thing that hung between us like a challenge. I expected to feel a sense of relief, a sense of freedom from his constant flirting and teasing. But instead, I felt unnerved, like I was walking on eggshells around him. His usual charm and charisma were nowhere to be found, replaced by a cold, professional demeanor that left me feeling off-kilter. In the training ring, he was a different person altogether. Gone was the playful, flirtatious Zane, replaced by a stern, unyielding instructor. Every jab I took at him, every attempt to provoke a reaction, was met with a straight face and a calm, detached tone. He gave me instructions on what to do next, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes never leaving mine. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I faced him, my senses on high alert. This was a side of Zane I'd never seen before, a side that was both fascinating and intimidating. I wasn't sure how to react, how to respond to this new, stoic version of him. All I knew was that I was determined to push him, to see how far I could go before he cracked. Little did I know, I was playing with fire, and the consequences would be far more explosive than I ever could have imagined. I searched my mind for something, anything, that could crack the mask of calm that Zane wore like a shield. I wanted to see the spark of mischief, the glint of amusement, that usually danced in his eyes. I wanted to see the Zane I had come to know, the one who flirted and teased and made me angry. But he was nowhere to be found, replaced by a stoic, unyielding instructor who seemed determined to keep me at arm's length. I thought about purring, just to see what he would do, to see if I could provoke a reaction from him. But Lennon's warning echoed in my head, a cautionary tale about the dangers of unleashing that sound. And after playing with fire with Haegin the night before, I was hesitant to breach that unknown territory again. So I searched for another way to poke the dragon, to see if I could rouse the sleeping giant that was Zane's emotions. And then I remembered what Sorelle had said, about Zane coming to her room and asking for her help.

A sly smile spread across my face as I turned to him, my eyes glinting with amusement. "So, I'll have to see you at the library from now on too?" I sneered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Zane's response was short and quick, a curt "Yep" that told me nothing. He placed a hand on me, repositioning me and explaining what I was doing wrong. His nostrils flared as he got close to my hair, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. But it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a mask of calm.

I pressed on, my gaze locked on his. "Because you're, jealous?" I asked, my voice laced with amusement.

Zane's response was a simple "Yep", his arms crossing over his chest as he stood there, giving me nothing. No emotion, no reaction, no spark of life. It was like he had built a wall around himself, a wall that I was determined to breach. But for now, I was left with nothing but the cold, hard truth: Zane was jealous, and he wasn't going to make it easy for me to get to him. I was growing impatient, my frustration simmering just below the surface.

I dropped my stance and shrugged, a careless gesture that belied the irritation building inside me. "Ugh, why are you being so boring?" I snapped, my voice laced with exasperation. "Throw it back at me, piss me off or something!"

My words hung in the air, a challenge that seemed to spark something within Zane. His mouth turned up into a grin, a slow, lazy smile that was the first sign of the Zane I'd grown accustomed to seeing all day. It was a small crack in his stoic mask, a glimpse of the mischievous glint that usually danced in his eyes. But even that small crack was enough to get to me. He didn't even need to speak, and yet I could feel my anger rising, my frustration boiling over. He had the upper hand, and he knew it. He knew that his stoic mask was getting to me, that I was desperate for a reaction from him.

And then, he spoke, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. "Awe, you miss me?" he asked, his words dripping with amusement. "Sorry to bore you, Ace. It smells like your night was entertaining enough though."

And just like that, he was back. The Zane I knew, the one who flirted and teased and pushed my buttons, was back, and I was pissed. Why did I ask for this? I thought to myself, my mind reeling with frustration. I had wanted to see the real Zane, to get a reaction from him, and now that I had, I was already over it. My anger and frustration swirled together, a potent mix that left me fuming. I glared at Zane, my eyes flashing with irritation, but he just chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. He knew he had me right where he wanted me, and I could feel my frustration simmering just below the surface. I had to get the upper hand back, to regain control of the situation and push him off balance. My eyes glinted with malice as I returned to practicing my balance, my movements fluid and deliberate.

"You should have joined," I said, my voice dripping with venom. "Maybe then you wouldn't need to take jealousy lessons."

The muscle in Zane's jaw twitched, a tiny crack in his stoic demeanor that told me I'd hit a nerve. But that was all I got - a small, fleeting glimpse of emotion before he slammed his mask back into place. He stood with his arms crossed, surveying my posture with a critical eye.

"I'm not the sharing type, Ace," he said, his voice low and even. "Though it makes sense that you would be."

Heat rose in my chest, anger filling me like a slow-burning fire. I felt my face flush, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah, well when you have no options, it makes sense that you never learned to share," I sneered, my voice laced with venom.

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The words hung in the air, a challenge that seemed to dare him to react. I could feel the tension between us building, a palpable force that seemed to vibrate with energy. Zane's eyes narrowed, his gaze locked on mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of anger in their depths. But it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a mask of calm that seemed to mock me. I knew I'd pushed him, that I'd gotten under his skin. But I also knew that I'd only scratched the surface, that there was still so much more to uncover.

I let out an exasperated sigh, my words tumbling out in a careless rush. "But... I guess when you're married to your legion, options tend to be few and far between." I didn't think, didn't consider the consequences of my words. I just spoke, letting my frustration and annoyance get the better of me.

That was it, the spark that set him off. Zane's hand shot out, aimed for my throat, and I quickly blocked it, my heart racing with adrenaline. I swung at his face, but he was too fast, too strong. He blocked my blow with ease, and before I knew it, his hand was clasped around my throat. It wasn't hard or overbearing, but strong enough to keep me in place. My hands gripped his wrist, my fingers wrapping around it like a vice. His gaze bore into my eyes, piercing and intense, like he was peering into my very soul.

"You know nothing about my options, my legion, or my marriage, Ace," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Is this what you wanted? Does this reaction suffice for you? Keep poking the dragon, little girl, and I'll show you my fire."

He was inches from my face, his breath hot against my skin. His nostrils flared as he spoke, his eyes flashing with anger. He broke eye contact, his gaze drifting to my hair, and his expression twisted in disgust. "And wash your fucking hair next time, you walked into the dining hall smelling like fresh fucking with half of Anahatean males looking at you like a fucking snack."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as he spoke, his words dripping with venom. But it wasn't just fear that I felt. It was something else, something that I couldn't quite explain. A thrill, a spark of excitement that seemed to ignite within me.

"You have no idea of the world you stepped into," he continued, his voice dripping with menace. "You're like a little fucking fawn, stumbling to find balance in a pack full of wolves. And I'll be the one that has to defend your stupid ass if you keep playing with fire."

I couldn't help but be turned on by Zane's dominance, by the way he held me in place with such ease. But it was more than that. It was the restraint he showed, the control he exerted over himself. He was strong enough to snap my neck, yet he held me in place, his dominant stare sending shivers down my spine. For a moment, we just stood there, locked in a silent standoff. Then, slowly, Zane's grip on my throat relaxed, and he stepped back, his eyes never leaving mine. I felt a rush of air fill my lungs, and I knew that I had to be careful.

"Awe, you'd protect me?" I grinned, like he didn't just practically choke me out. I was trying to play it cool, to pretend like his words didn't affect me. But deep down, I was seething. I was angry and frustrated and hurt.

He rolled his eyes, his expression a perfect mask of disdain. "You couldn't handle me in bed anyway, stick with Prince Crybaby and enjoy that power depleted dread cock."

That was it, I snapped. I lunged at him, my body moving on its own accord. I crashed into his body, but he didn't block me, didn't defend himself. He let me tackle him, and that just pissed me off even more. I was on top of him, inches from his face, and I could feel my anger boiling over. Accidentally, I let out an angry rattle. It was a sound I'd never made before, a sound that was both primal and terrifying. His eyes widened in shock, and I covered my mouth, realizing what I'd just done. It wasn't a purr, it was more angry, more primal. But now Zane knew more about me than I was ready for him to know. His mouth turned up into a wicked grin, and he rattled back. But his was different, deeper, more masculine. It was like a light switch to my body, and suddenly I was flooded with heat and desire. I felt wetness growing between my legs, and I knew I was releasing a scent that I wasn't intending to release. Zane laughed a low, menacing laugh, and rattled again. I couldn't control it, and I rattled back. It was like we were speaking a language that no one else understood, a language that was both primal and intimate. I looked up, noticing Valen and Kiah staring at us with their mouths dropped open. They looked shocked, like they'd never seen anything like this before, a human rattling like a Numariyan beast. Zane smiled, a lazy, self-satisfied smile that made my blood boil. He put both hands behind his head, adopting a leisurely posture that was both infuriating and intoxicating. I was still straddling him, my body tense with shock and anger, and he seemed to be enjoying every moment of it.

His nostrils flared surveying my core before looking up at me with a chuckle. "You like my rattle," he teased, his voice low and husky.

I looked down at him, my eyes blazing with fury. "Fuck you, Zane."

I pushed off of him, my body trembling with anger and desire. I needed to get away from him, to escape the intoxicating scent of him, the way his rattle made me feel. I stormed off, my feet carrying me away from the training ring and towards the safety of my quarters. I could feel the wetness between my legs, and I knew I needed to change my underwear. I was mortified, but I couldn't deny the way Zane's rattle had affected me. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before, a primal but intimate anger that left me breathless and wanting more. I wanted to kick his ass and fuck him all at once.

As I walked away, I heard Zane's laughter echoing behind me. "See you in the library, little fawn," he called out, his voice dripping with amusement.

I flipped him off without turning back, my anger and frustration boiling over. But deep down, I knew I was just trying to hide the truth. I was drawn to Zane, to his rattle and his scent and his infuriating, arrogant smile. And that pissed me off. I loved Lennon, but something about Zane ignited a fire within me. It was a spark that I couldn't ignore, a flame that seemed to grow brighter with every passing moment. It almost scared me, and that fear was thrilling. I heard Lennon's voice in my head, his words echoing through my mind like a warning. ‘Don't go chasing fear, Ace.’ Yet, there I was, poking the dragon, looking for fire. I was drawn to the danger, the uncertainty, the thrill of the unknown. *Gods, what the fuck is wrong with me?* I thought, my mind reeling with confusion and frustration. I was torn between my love for Lennon and my attraction to Zane. I was caught in a web of emotions, unsure of which way to turn. Then, I heard Sorelle's voice, her words of wisdom and calmness soothing my frazzled nerves. ‘Be gentle with yourself, Ace,’ she had said. ‘You've been through a lot.’ Maybe I was just looking for a distraction, a way to escape the pain and the trauma of my past. Maybe I was chasing the fear, desperately grasping onto uncovering more memories, regardless of who I hurt in the process. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. If Lennon found out about Zane, this could turn really bad, really fast. I was getting anxious, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. I needed to speak with Sorelle, to seek her wisdom and her calming energy. She was the one Sidhe who could help me make sense of my emotions, who could guide me through this treacherous landscape. I rushed to my room to change, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to get to the library, to find Sorelle and talk to her about everything that was going on. I needed her help, her guidance, and her support. I was lost, and I didn't know which way to turn. But with Sorelle by my side, I knew I could face whatever came next.