Novel & Cerita Zane Book

Chapter 23: The Weight of Vengeance The castle of Zorana had once been a symbol of strength and unity, but now, it stood as a silent witness to the unraveling of everything Caden had once cherished. War had taken its toll, not just on the kingdom, but on the people who had once thrived within its walls. The air was thick with the tension of unresolved grief, the remnants of battles both won and lost. And at the center of it all stood Prince Caden—his every move, his every breath consumed by a singular obsession: vengeance.

Decades in the making, passed down from generation to generation, crafting the perfect hostile take over. I had never intended to fall for a girl. My focus was the mission. Overthrow the humans rule one of the zombie hordes as king. It was what I had spent years building towards. Then I met Lacy with her medium length mocha brown hair in layers with messy bangs, hazel eyes, a pretty face, a coca-cola body figure, and nice sized boobs. She was a book nerd but had a little edge to her style. Torn-up jeans, black shirts, black painted nails, and black canvas shoes. Lacey Thorne was the things my sex dreams were made of. Sweet, innocent, totally capable, with a slight edge to her.

He winks, leaving me alone with Zane, the door locking behind him. Smart man. He knows the plot's tugging at me. I approach, heart racing, this body's instincts screaming to claim him. Zane glares, amber eyes fierce, his lithe frame tense. "Cillian Veyne," he spits, voice gravelly and defiant. "Release me, or you'll regret it." But there's a flicker, attraction, buried under pride. The novel's pull is heavy on us both; I feel it, an invisible force urging me closer, my cock hardening painfully.

It happened so quickly that Zane could not understand whether this was the same Reyne who he was dominating until a few seconds ago. He sucked air into his lungs and slantly angled his head while his eyes sparkled with impression and a smile making its way on his lips. 'You still think she is weak, huh?' his wolf questioned. Tbc... (I know what you want to see... But i will show you what you wouldn't want to see lol *winks* Target: 13 comments. Lysm)

Elariana The morning still felt like it was stepping around me carefully, as if it was not sure it was allowed to pour full light over me. But when Zane stood and said he would have breakfast brought, something tiny yet enormous shifted inside me. The thought that my hunger was not a scandal, not shame, not the doorway to punishment. It was simply a sign that my body was alive, and someone did not want to silence it.

My hand instinctively moved between my thighs, gently rubbing my sensitive clit as memories of Zane destroying me flooded my mind. The bathroom door suddenly opened. I froze. Zane stepped inside, still fully dressed, holding a stack of my books he’d 'borrowed' earlier. His steel-grey eyes immediately darkened as they landed on my wet, naked body behind the glass. "Fuck…" he muttered, dropping the books on the counter without caring where they landed. "Zane..." I started, but he was already stripping. His shirt came off, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. Then his pants dropped, and his massive, thick cock sprang free, already rock hard and angry.

Something in the process of evolving. Andrei hadn’t said much since that night. They passed each other in corridors, exchanged glances that lingered too long, but with them, words had become less necessary. The silence between them now carried weight. It still harboured resentment, but still carried respect. The weight of a dozen words left unspoken. Zane found himself in the library again with no fire this time, only the gray illumination of morning light. He pulled a book from the shelves something about the evolution of aristocratic dynasties. He didn’t care for the content. It was the weight of the book in his hands, the way knowledge felt like armor.

I needed to stop talking to him. Zane: I'm making you uncomfortable. You don't know me. I get it. But give it time, pretty soon you'll have everything about me memorized, maybe by then your judgment won't be clouded by what you see on the internet and you'll see me, just me. Fallon: And who is Zane Andrews? He didn't reply back right away. Zane: Sometimes, I think, he's still the scared little boy who was abandoned by his sisters and dropped off in foster care when the love of his life died.

“I’ll see you around.” Zane stood up, brushed himself off, and gathered a couple of books that had fallen. As he walked past me toward the door, his shoulder lightly brushed mine. That’s when I caught it—his scent. Fresh like soap and something sweet, maybe a hint of citrus or warm vanilla. It wrapped around me for a second and made my stomach do a little flip.

Zane's brows furrowed, and he dropped the pictures on the passenger seat, taking out what felt like a book. In the low garage light seeping through the windows, Zane saw it really was a book when he took it out. A white leather book. The cover was browned at the edges, like someone had thrown it in a fire and yanked it out in just in time before he began to burn. Deep grooves appeared between his brows as he opened it, but the words scribbled on the first page just made his blood run cold. --Dear Diary, it's Victoria. Zane's knuckles whitened around the book, and he slammed it down hard against the steering wheel, as fire surged inside him.