Zane From H2o Novels & Stories

His every step felt as though he were walking barefoot on blades. Zane's eyes were hollow and yet filled with utter despair. It was as though time itself had frozen. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he gently touched my frozen face. And in that moment, something inside him snapped.

He walked in-between us, “There’s a power outage at the pump machine. There’d be no water in the village once the tank dries out.” Zane sat up, “So…you need me to turn water to wine?” He covered my mouth the same second, holding my laugh. Zed doesn’t even flinch, “No. I’m telling you because you might know whose fault it is.” He threw a knife on the counter. I recognized it. Zane recognized it.

He was recalling consciousness. "W-water," Zane mumbled but he ended up coughing to his throat being dry. "Don't… don't worry…water is here," Sydney stammered as she rushed to pour him a glass of water. On the other hand, Zane was fighting to open his eyes. His entire body felt numb, especially his right arm. Forcing his eyes open. Zane blinked a few times trying to adjust to the bright lights. His eyes burned a little.

Zane murmured unhappily, with his head resting on his right hand. He checked his time and saw how late it was. He got up from his couch and decided to go and get a drink of water since he was thirsty. Zane headed for the kitchen and met a maid awake. He requests for a glass of water and they give him. Zane drank the water and left the kitchen. He made his way to the entrance of his mansion, looking outside. He watched his guards patrolling around, guiding the place. He sighed and leaned his side against the door.

“Hello, Natalie Blue Watson,” Zane said calmly. “What do you want?” Natalie snapped, shocked that her new boss was standing outside her door. Zane was about 6 feet tall with very handsome features. He had brown eyes and black hair which was cut shorter in the sides and left the middle longer. His smile was his weapon and every woman fell for it. Well, every woman except Natalie, who only saw a rich brat in him. “Won’t you ask me to come in?”

I breathed. "Wait here." Zane disappeared through another door and came back a minute later carrying two bottles—water and something amber in a crystal decanter. He set them on a workbench near the door, then shrugged off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. I tried not to stare at his forearms. Failed. "You want to tell me what you're thinking?" He poured himself a drink, watching me over the rim of the glass. "I'm thinking this is insane." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "All of it. The party, the kiss, this—" I gestured at the cars. "I don't understand what's happening."

Shirley was saying but she was interrupted by Zane. "Then who said anything about bathing with you? You are the one with the corrupt mind. I only accompanied you here so that you would not get lost because if you get lost this time around, you might have to walk for ten or more hours just to find me," Zane replied with a smirk then he continued, "since my job is done here, I will take my leave now." * * *

That was—oddly satisfying. My hair was pulled into a sleek pony tail, with tiny glitters. Red lipstick clung to my lips and body oil all over my skin. I stepped out onto the set. And then I saw him. Oh, fuck. Zane stood near the backdrop, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a bottle of water someone had handed him. He wore black jeans—low and ripped at the knees. His bare chest under the lights. Hair was wet, slicked back like mine, water dripping down his temple, jaw and the column of his throat.

Why am I surprised that Zane is this good at this job? We park in front of a red-roofed farmhouse that looks like something I once saw on a postcard. “No way.” I once again paste my face to the window. “This place is unreal.” “Of course it is. It’s my territory.” “I still don’t think you can take credit for that.” I laugh. “Look— they have cows!” “If I’d known what a fan of livestock manure you are, I’d have— ” I ignore him and exit the car right as a young man comes toward us. His mop of dark curls is swept around by the wind, and his frame is slight, especially for a Were. “Dr. Sem Caine,” Zane explains after they exchange a hug.

Had I been standing, I may have fallen over. I let out a slow breath. I wasn’t trying to forget the pain. It’d already been forgotten. I was trying to quell the new feelings stirring in me, the ones that had always been there but grew rapidly as I stared into the depths of HJ. From far off, I heard Zane mumble that he was done. HJ’s hand traveled along my collarbone as his voice rumbled through me. “Give us a minute, Zane.” Zane rolled away on his stool because I guess every person in the world listened to HJ when he commanded them.