Zenon staggered back. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His repeated curses were punctuated by the smack of his cut, bleeding fist against the side of his head.

He deserved far worse. His stomach tightened. The look on her face. Jesus. She thought he was going to hit her.

He’d lost his goddamned mind.

An alarm started up, and the sound rang out, echoing around the empty street.

Unfurling his wings, he lifted off the ground but didn’t go far, taking his spot opposite Mia’s apartment. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Christ, he was fucked in the head. He’d lost his temper. Had frightened her again. Now that window was shrapnel, and he’d managed to make her more vulnerable than ever.

Laz or Kryos would sooner cut off a limb than hurt or frighten their mate, would never put them in a position where their safety was compromised. He was so screwed up he couldn’t even protect her from himself, let alone anything else that might harm her.

Explaining what just went down was not something he wanted to do right then, but the knights owned that building and the sooner someone came to replace the window the better. Grabbing his phone, he keyed a quick text to Chaos, cluing him in on the damage to the building without specifics.

Mia should have been in her apartment by now, but the place was still dark. He needed to know she was all right. With two strong strokes of his wings, he glided across the street and landed on what he knew to be the living room balcony. Yeah, Mia had made it to her apartment all right. Why the hell had he left his position across the street?

She was curled up in a tight ball, fragile and alone, so small on the overstuffed couch in the middle of that huge room. But what tore him up—made him fucking ill—was the way her body shook with the force of her sobs. The sight of those giant tears streaking down her beautiful face, like liquid diamonds, killed him.

He’d done that. He’d caused that pain.

Zenon stood there unmoving for a long time, not able to unglue his boots from the tile, wishing he was a different male, a male who could walk into that room and ease her pain. But he wasn’t that male, never would be. Eventually the sobs didn’t look like they were being ripped from her chest and became more shuddery hiccups.

Seeing Mia like that did something to him, something that terrified him, made him feel more out of control than ever before, and brought his demon to the surface with a possessive roar.

The sound of a vehicle pulling to a stop traveled up from the street below, followed by the sounds of clean-up getting started, and gave him a small sense of relief. At least Chaos didn’t mess around with shit like this, not when more than one demi lived in that building.

Movement from inside the apartment caught his eye. Mia sat up, wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, and stood, shrugging off her coat.

A low growl shot up his throat. What the hell was she wearing?

The tight black jeans painted onto her round ass and hips were bad enough, but that shirt—no fucking way. The white fabric was thin and clung to her large breasts. It was so damn low cut it revealed a lot of creamy, soft cleavage. Was that her—goddammit, he could see her nipples as clear as if she were standing there naked. The word Jackson’s was emblazoned across the front, stretched to the limit. That was her uniform?

Brushing her hair back from her face, she walked to her bedroom, and he flew to the next balcony in time to see her go into the en suite bathroom. When she emerged, she was wrapped in a pink fluffy robe. She went to her dresser and brushed her hair before reaching back and pulling the glossy red locks into some kind of knot at the back of her head. She was so beautiful and, with her hair off her face, somehow even more vulnerable all at the same time.

He would love to have pulled her into his lap while she did that—better yet, brush her hair for her. He shook his head. He had to stop thinking like this.

Even though he’d proven himself inept at all things when it came to that female—like keeping away from her—he’d convinced himself she needed him to watch over her while she was in Roxburgh, while they waited for her to gain her full power, and as it turned out, he equally sucked at that as well. But in the end he didn’t have a choice. Every instinct he possessed screamed for him to be near her, to ensure her safety. God, he’d screwed everything up.

The fight at the cemetery had held him up.

Kryos had been injured, and Zenon had to help him back to the compound. So he hadn’t been here to make sure she got home safely. He’d arrived in time to see Mia running for her apartment, looking scared as hell. And instead of soothing her fears, like he’d have the first clue how to do that, he’d added to them.

The last few months had been crazy. Demons crawling out of the woodwork, doing shit they didn’t usually do. Something or someone had stirred them up, causing them to risk their necks and raise hell all over the city. And until they found out who or what was causing it, he got the feeling things would get a whole lot worse.

Another reason he needed to stick close to Mia.

Mia let her robe slip from her shoulders and all the breath shot from his lungs on a hiss. Yeah, he turned the corner into Sleazeville at that moment, but he couldn’t turn away from the sight in front of him no matter how hard he tried. No way.

The flimsy thing she wore underneath was yellow, shimmery, and short. The skinny little straps were the only thing holding it onto her lush body, making sure all those curves were covered. The scrap of fabric clung to her hips and thighs, outlined that sweet place between her thighs, and strained over her generous breasts, highlighting peaked nipples.

He’d never felt so out of control in his life, so conflicted. He licked his lips, the taste of her branded into his senses. Looking down he almost expected to find a hard-on.

Of course there wasn’t. Still, it didn’t mean he wasn’t desperate for her, hungering for another taste. She slipped between the sheets and tucked her legs up, resting her hands under her cheek. She looked so alone—lonely in that big bed.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to go in there, climb in beside her, and soothe her. To be a real male for her. Have the freedom to claim her as his mate.

But as long as he needed Helena to survive here on Earth that would never happen. And he sure as fuck wasn’t returning to Hell—not now he knew Mia existed in this world.

Backing up, he lifted off and flew to the opposite building. Being that close—just being able to see her was too much, too tempting.

Moments later, he felt a familiar presence at his back. Silas.

“You’re in pain.”

Straight to it, then. Yeah, he was in pain. But then he always was. This just rated higher on the pain-o-meter than it should after a house call with his mistress.

He turned to face the angel. Silas stood there, dressed all in black, the battle scenes inked on his arms on full display. His black and gold hair was combed back and his gold wings shimmered and shifted in the breeze. “I didn’t go to her soon enough. She decided to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He owed Silas the truth. If it wasn’t for the guy, he would have died soon after his arrival to Earth.

“Bitch,” Silas muttered, his hands fisted at his sides. “When will you return?”

“Soon.” Too fucking soon.

The angel walked up to stand beside him and looked over to Mia’s apartment. “She’s yours?”

Had he seen him creeping around her balcony? More than likely. “You know exactly who she is. And you know exactly why she can never be mine.”

Silas tilted his head to the side, his pale silver eyes seeing too much, seeing everything. “Do you want her to be?”

The other male could get into his head if he wanted, and right then Zenon wondered if he had, but Silas had vowed a long time ago never to do that. To do it now would destroy a trust between them that had not come easy. Which meant his feelings about Mia were written all over his face. Great. “How I feel is irrelevant. You know that,” he gritted out.

Silas shrugged his big shoulders, causing his golden feathers to ruffle in the wind. “Perhaps.”

“Don’t start with the riddles, angel. I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight.”

“I only want what’s best for you, Zenon. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Yeah?” Zenon turned to face him full on, locking stares. “Then destroy this thing inside me, the thing stopping me from leaving this spot, from leaving her. The thing that’s fucking with my head. I don’t want this. Take it out of me.” His voice rose, pitched high, panic clear to his own ears. But still he kept talking. “Find her another mate, one worthy of her. One who can be a real male for her. One who doesn’t frighten and hurt her.”

One of Silas’s big hands lifted, but realizing what he was about to do, he dropped it back to his side. “Zenon—”

“I’m a slave, Silas. That bitch may be the one locked up, but I’m still hers. I’m nothing, nothing but a whore selling myself to survive.”

Silas shook his head, compassion clear in his pale gaze. “You know what you ask is impossible. It’s not for me to decide. The die is cast. You must travel this path. Whether you wish it were so or not is irrelevant.”

Zenon turned away. There was nothing more to say. He knew how this worked.

A moment later Silas was gone, and Zenon sat his ass down and got comfortable.

* * *

“Thanks for lunch. I was going crazy in that apartment all alone.”

“We’re here if you ever want to talk or just hang. Right now you’re doing us a favor. Laz and Kryos have been driving us nuts since that demon broke into the grounds.” Eve scowled. “I haven’t left the compound in I don’t know how long. Laz won’t even let me on the balcony without him.”

What would it be like to have a mate? Someone to look out for you, love you like that? “I wouldn’t mind that problem,” Mia muttered. “It must be awful having someone care about you that much.” She grinned and rolled her eyes, and the other two females laughed.

Kryos’s mate, Meredith, grinned. “Okay, as hardships go, it’s not so bad, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.”

Meredith glanced at Eve. Something past between them, then Eve gave the other woman a subtle nod before they both turned back to her. And wow, they were serious. Deadly. “There’s something we thought you should know,” Meredith said.

This couldn’t be anything good, and she didn’t think she could take any more negative crap in her life. She held up her palms, as if the gesture had the power to ward off whatever these women were about to lay on her. Of course it didn’t.

Eve’s gaze softened. “Zenon’s spent the last week watching over you. He’s not sleeping and barely eating.”

“Yeah, he looks kinda like shit,” Meredith added.

“Laz said he sits on the building across from yours. Doesn’t move till sun up.”

Mia grabbed for the back of the couch, even though she was already sitting down. “What? But why would he do that?”

They looked at each other again, and Meredith shrugged. “We think he’s your mate.”

She liked both woman a lot, and she had no idea why Zenon would watch her place all night. Guilt, maybe? But they were wrong, and she was surprised at how much that reality hurt. “Zenon doesn’t even like me. He definitely doesn’t want me.”

More looks were exchanged and Eve moved to sit beside her. “Zenon keeps to himself. There’s a lot about him that’s a mystery. But I get the feeling he doesn’t trust easily, and he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved, not even by his brothers. You need to give him time. He needs to come to terms with what’s happening between you both, because right now he’s fighting it.”

God, didn’t they see? Zenon didn’t feel that way about her and never would. “There’s nothing between us.” But as she said the words she knew they didn’t ring true. Something happened when they were together. She couldn’t explain it or put it into words. But she’d seen these females with their mates and had heard the stories of the instant heat that flared between them, even if they resisted at first.

That wasn’t how it was for her and Zenon. Well, not for him at least.

They weren’t mates. It was impossible.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do…but you’re wrong.” She stood, suddenly desperate to get out of that apartment. “Sorry…I, ah, have to get going.”

“Okay,” Eve said gently. “But if you need someone to talk to—”

“I won’t. Not about this.” It was rude, but she couldn’t talk about Zenon, not with anyone. It hurt too much.

Meredith gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Those males are arrogant, stubborn, and more often than not, complete pains in the ass, but once you have their love, their loyalty, you have it for eternity. They’re worth whatever crap they drag you through to get there. I promise you that.”

That sounded wonderful, too good, and her cue to get the heck out of there before she started crying. Her feelings for Zenon were extreme for the short time she’d known him. They made no sense, considering his constant rejection and violent mood swings. The last thing she needed was false hope.

They said their goodbyes and she left Eve’s apartment, heading to the elevator. But a thud from the opposite end of the hall stopped her in her tracks. Several dull sounds followed, and she was sure she heard a groan.

She started back the way she’d come, and knew exactly where she was going before she turned to the left where the hall branched off into a T.

Zenon stood—well, stood was too generous a word, more like sagged against the wall. His big body shook so bad he was having trouble getting his door open. Mia took a step forward, but before she could reach him, he shoved it open and fell through, landing hard on the floor.

“Oh my God.” She rushed over.

Zenon lay there, arms wrapped around himself, shaking and groaning.

“Zenon?” She crouched down beside him. His yellow eyes darted toward her then slid shut. He didn’t speak, but his teeth were gritted so hard she didn’t know if he was able. “Hang on, I’ll go get help.” His hand shot out and gripped her wrist like a vise then he shook his head.

“Something’s wrong. You need help.” His grip tightened and he shook his head again. Pain shot up her arm and she winced. He let her go instantly and groaned like whatever was hurting him just upped the ante. “Has this happened before?”

He gave a jerky nod.

“Will it pass on its own?”

Another nod. Then his gaze moved back to the door. He wanted her to leave. Like hell. He’d just have to get over his problem with her, for now at least, because if he wasn’t letting her get help he was stuck with her. “Can you move?”

He shook his head.

His body continued to shake, and she didn’t know if it was from pain, or if he was cold, or both. “I’d like to put my hand on your forehead. Is that okay?”

His gaze locked on hers, but he didn’t give her a yes or no this time, like he wasn’t sure of the answer himself. She lifted her hand slowly so he saw it coming and placed the back of her fingers on his skin. “You’re freezing.”

He groaned again then stiffened. Agony lined his face and his skin drained of color. She didn’t know if painkillers worked on his kind, but she had to do something. “Hang on.” She got to her feet and ran to his bedroom.

His spicy scent was stronger in there. His perfectly made bed sat in the middle of the large room, and on the wall above it a pair of wicked looking axes, their handles crossed over one another, were fixed there. The only other pieces of furniture were a dresser and a small bedside table. There were clothes scattered around the floor, and a pair of worn boots sat against the wall, and that was all. She went to the en suite and checked out the medicine cabinet. There was a decent stash of first-aid supplies, but no pain relief. Great.

She couldn’t do anything for his pain, but she could at least try to warm him up. Grabbing his pillow and comforter from the bed, she hurried back to the living room. He hadn’t moved. His condition seemed worse if anything.

“Let’s try and get you warmed up.” She kept talking as she laid it over him, babbling like a crazy person. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but whatever it was was bad enough that he couldn’t speak or move.

She didn’t know what to do to make him better, and that terrified the hell out of her.

“I need to touch you again, okay?” She paused. “I’m just…I’m going to put this pillow under your head.” Crouching down, she tentatively lifted his head and slid it in place. At least she could try and make him more comfortable.

He watched her the whole time and she couldn’t work out what was behind that stare, but it caused serious flutters in her belly. She lifted her hand again and slowly reached for him, unable to resist brushing his hair back from his face.

After she made sure he was covered, she offered him a drink of water, but he couldn’t unhinge his jaw enough to take a sip. So she sat back and waited for it to pass. Twenty minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace, but his condition didn’t change. He shivered and groaned, and she’d never felt more helpless in her entire life.

“I’m going to touch your forehead again,” she said and placed her hand against his skin, sliding down to his cheek. He watched her, but he didn’t pull away. “I’ve never felt anyone this cold. We have to get you warmed up. If you were human you’d have hypothermia by now.”

The best way to warm someone up was body heat. Not something he’d welcome, but at this point she didn’t know what else to do. She pulled off her sweater and stripped off her jeans. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but I’m out of ideas, and we need to get your temperature back up. I’m going to lie against you so you can feel my body heat.” He started to shake his head. “I know you don’t like me, but you can just get the hell over it. I’m trying to help you out here. It’s either this or I go get help.”

He held still, those unnerving eyes not leaving hers.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She didn’t waste time and climbed under the comforter, sliding in behind him. His entire body was rock solid, shaking, freezing. Goose bumps rose on her skin from the shock of it. Luckily, he didn’t have his leather jacket on and wore only a worn T-shirt and jeans so he could at least feel the heat coming from her.

Keeping one arm at her side and the other tucked under her head so she didn’t freak him out more than she already was, she pressed her front into his back. That feeling during her training started to hum in the center of her chest, but for once it didn’t become painful or overwhelming. It was weird, but she could feel warmth radiate through her limbs, like she was sending heat to him.

“Can you feel that?” Her power was still so volatile and her control over it was not great. But this, somehow, felt right, like she needed to embrace it.

He dipped his chin a fraction.

“Is it…am I hurting you?”

He shook his head, again barely a movement, but she didn’t miss it.

Zenon remained tense, and she started to babble again in an attempt to keep both of their minds off what she was doing. She told him about her mother, how wonderful she’d been growing up. How she’d passed away several years ago. About her sister, and the mischief they’d gotten up to as kids. That she didn’t remember what her father looked like, but that her mother had loved him dearly.

She talked and talked until Zenon’s shivers eased and his big body relaxed a little.

To her utter shock a short while later, without a word, he reached back, took her wrist, and pulled her arm around him, holding her hand to his chest. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart against her palm.

Mia didn’t dare move, didn’t speak, afraid she’d destroy the fragile truce between them.

A rush of exhaustion hit her about the same time that feeling of warmth flooding her limbs retreated. In the back of her mind she knew it was important, this breakthrough with her powers, with Zenon. But right then she couldn’t think.

Not while she was wrapped around the fierce, broken warrior beside her. A male who let no one in, ever. A male who, right then at least, was trusting her to hold him, to care for him.