POV: Zina
I needed to get away. Away from Xaden, away from his lies, away from everything that made me question who I was.
My fingers grazed the banister for balance, my breaths coming in shaky bursts. My cheek still stung where he'd slapped me, and my head throbbed from the blow against the counter. Warm blood trickled down my temple, but I ignored it. I had to get to my room, lock the door, and figure out what to do next.
Behind me, the silence in the house felt suffocating, like it was holding its breath. For a brief moment, I thought maybe Xaden had let me go. Maybe my words had hit him harder than I realized.
But then I heard it.
The soft sound of his footsteps.
I didn't look back. I didn't have to.
"Zina," his voice called out, low and calm, but there was an edge to it that made my skin crawl. "Come back downstairs. Let's talk about this."
