Zoya
The zombie screeches like a vulture and takes charge with its mouth snapping air.
I brace myself for the end, already imagining death's hands around my neck, choking me slowly. I'm a tough girl, but ever since I was forced to kill my sister when she turned, I've suffered PTSD. As a result, whenever I look a zombie in the eye, I'm rendered paralyzed, too traumatized by the memory to act.
My sister screamed the day I murdered her, cried until her brown eyes turned hauntingly blue, and without thinking, I shot her. Blood splattered everywhere, painting my face red as my knees buckled. I fell on the floor and stared down at my hands, shaking for what felt like eternities until Felicia told me to get over it.
Felicia was a ruthless master, but she gave me enough strength to press on and shut off my emotions. With Felicia by my side, I could face any obstacle, but right now, I'm weak.
I'm a lone wolf without a pack, and it will be my downfall.
<Amelia The courtyard has turned into a battlefield. Men are dying, screaming, and getting eaten by sun-exposed zombies, but I can’t focus on anything else other than finding Ryan. “Wow, this place looks like a mess,” Zoya whistles. “I hope your man is okay.” Unease settles into my chest, prickles my skin, and makes me shiver as I watch the dead bodies in the snow. There are so many. Ugh. I hope Ryan is alright. He kidnapped me, and we had a rough start and a quarrel, but my heart is praying that he is okay. Maybe I’ve developed a Stockholm syndrome, but I don’t know what I would do if I found Ryan injured, or worse, dead. It felt so good when he touched me like we were finally standing on equal grounds, and I regret being mad at him for asking about the cure he thinks my father has created. Ryan simply asked a question, an important one since the zombies are growing in numbers, and I thanked him by getting grumpy myself. I don’t want h
Ryan The zombies attacked this morning. I don't know who opened the gates or why the infected herd would ignore the blazing sun. Light kills them slowly, and after having shot a few of them, I've made the conclusion they seem to be under mind control. None of them seemed aware of their actions, and what baffles me more is that they didn't care about their burning, rotten skin either. I also noticed that they are scary strong. Damn, I hope Amelia is alright. I don't care about what she said about being a clone. I spent most of the night thinking about her words while staring up at the ceiling—it turns out I don't give a fuck if she was born the natural way or if she was created. My dick still twitches at the thought of getting buried deep inside of her. I like Amelia. She makes me want to be a better person. I don't know that much about her yet, but I know enough to conclude that she is unique. When I first met her, she was shy and withdrawn, b
RyanFinally, I'm alone with Amelia. Zoya is making herself at home in Amelia's bedroom upstairs, and Giovani said he would head back to guard the gates through the night.The thought of more zombies breaking into our courtyard makes Giovani unable to rest, and he said he wouldn't be able to sleep without one of us being by the gates—I will take the next guarding shift."So you aren't hurt?" Amelia asks.I'm cleaning the kitchen while Amelia observes me from the kitchen table. Water is dripping from her face, landing in her cleavage and drawing my attention to her perky breasts.I swallow the urge to pick her up into my arms right then and there. She is wearing one of my oversized XXL t-shirts, and for some reason, it turns me on seeing her wear something that belongs to me."No, I'm not hurt," I tell her in a tone much calmer than the thoughts running rampage inside my head.I lied to Amelia. I'm hurt. The wound from earlier is
AmeliaAs I stand by the beginning of the stairs, my chest cramps the moment I see Ryan take off his t-shirt. I'm still wet from the shower and draped in his clothes. His scent is on me, and even though I'm supposed to join Zoya upstairs, my legs are working against me.I stand frozen, unable to make a single move as Ryan aims his stormy eyes on me. A smile touches his lips, and my eyes fall to his carved abs, helpless to resist tracking the pathway of hair down to his crotch. He is gorgeous, but sex isn't on my mind."Shouldn't you walk upstairs? Ryan asks and folds his arms under his chest. The zombie bite is pretty visible, but I'm guessing he isn't afraid of getting seen with it inside his cabin."I..." I stop talking and lick my lips. I feel my heart sting—I don't want to leave him. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"Ryan looks surprised. "Isn't the bed upstairs good enough for you?"Feeling frustrated, I march up to him with determi
There is a lump in my throat. Ryan is sitting next to me on the couch, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his legs. My heart is hurting. Hurting. How do I make it stop? I can't stop thinking about that infected wound on his arm!Will I ever get to taste those lips after today?How long will it take for him to turn into a zombie?Will he die?I know that we don't have much time, that we need to drive to my father's mansion to look for a cure. But part of me feels safe being here on the couch with Ryan. It's as if my brain thinks being near him will somehow prevent him from turning into a braindead zombie."Do you think we need to bring a lot of men with us?" Ryan is scratching his chin while resting his eyes on me. Watching him makes it harder to breathe—please don't leave me. Don't turn into a zombie. "I was hoping to be discreet about this mission. Bringing a lot of people might not be a good idea.""Who you want to bring?" I try to so
Stepping into the car feels wrong, like something terrible is about to happen. Yet I open the door to climb into the vehicle—Courtney is already sitting in her seat, glaring daggers at me. Her hair is flowing around her dolled-up face, and my eyes land on the cut right below her nose and upper lip. Did I cause that? The makeup is doing nothing to hide the scar. "Look at what you did to my beautiful face, Amelia," Courtney says. "This is your work." My gaze turns bitter. "I'm sorry, but if you hadn't tried to stop me from making my own decisions, then you would still be as pretty as a Barbie." Courtney looks ready to murder me. Her mouth opens and closes, and I lift my eyebrows. "What?" I ask. "I thought we were friends..." Courtney says. "Were we truly friends, or did you only hang out with me because Ryan told you to?" I can hear Zoya snort behind me, but she catches herself in the last second and climbs into the miniv
When we arrive at my father's mansion, the gate is already opened, and there are no cars in the courtyard. And when we step out of the vehicle, the door to the mansion is open. It's slamming back and forth in the wind, making goosebumps prickle over my skin.Something is wrong.Giovani groans. "Where is everyone?""I don't know," Billy replies and walks towards the mansion. "There are blood marks on the door; maybe the zombies came here before us?""That means we need to work fast while the sun is up," Giovani says and nods at Zoya. "You and I will check upstairs, secure that floor; if we don't find anyone, we call the others in."Zoya nods a reply and then silently follows the bear-like man towards the luxurious mansion."Ugh, it's so cold... I will wait inside the car..." Courtney shudders and closes the car door. Hugo and Billy light up cigars, and I turn around to face Ryan."How are you feeling?" I dare to ask.Ryan peers
"There is no end to these zombies!" While Giovani shoots down zombie after zombie, I watch my father observe us with a smile plastered to his face. Odd how he isn't helping his zombie companions fight and instead turns around to disappear into another room slowly. "If you want to save your cute little lover, chat with me in the other room, Amelia." My father speaks from the door frame. A smile is glittering over his thin lips. "Come on, follow me." Ryan falls onto his knees and glances up at me. He seems to be struggling not to turn into a zombie. "Don't follow him." I bite my lower lip. Ryan looks sickly pale, and I know I don't have much time to make my decision. I should follow my father, right? The others have joined us and are shooting zombies to the left and right—I could easily track my father into the other room. It might be my only chance to prevent Ryan's death. "Stay here," I order Ryan. "I will see what my father has to say."
Ryan My memory is foggy. The last thing I remember is that uncomfortable hospital bed with my five grandkids crying and holding my hands. Maeve was smiling sadly from a chair in the far back, and Wyatt leaned in to whisper: "I love you, dad." Did I die? I glance down at my hands, oddly aware that I'm not dreaming. My wrinkles are there, but my back pain is gone. How peculiar. What is this place? I've never been here before, yet I feel at ease. And the air is so fresh, like apples, a rainy day, and the ocean breeze combined. Breathing it in is like experiencing a rebirth, and I look ahead, wondering what I might find if I keep walking. Carefully, I walk forward, lifting my head to be blown away by the waterfalls crashing down and landing nowhere. "This place sure is beautiful... Like a dream..." The sky is darker than black, but the flowers on the floor, growing on the walls of the mountain in clutches—they are glowing in these
Maeve We have spent one week in the hybrid village. I haven't recovered entirely yet, and I'm not sure if I ever will. We are giving the magical healing thing one more day before giving up and accepting that I'm blind. The world is scary when everything is dark, but things still feel light even if my vision is gone. Like my feet when I'm around Wyatt. We have talked things out and decided to become a couple. Even though I'm blind, he is still the sexiest man on earth. And me being blind isn't precisely a handicap—now I can freely grope him, squeeze his super-hero muscles, and blame it on being blind. It makes him laugh every time, especially when I was using that excuse when I was licking his abs yesterday. And fuck me. Wyatt seriously has the mightiest abs, like rocks inserted into his body and then draped over with human skin. He is seriously so gorgeous—a sex god sent to earth. Flames sear within me—merely thinking about having Wyatt to mys
Maeve Wyatt gently places me down on a bed. The innkeeper told us to get some rest before she attempts to heal my eyes. She used up most of her stamina, patching up my wounds and stopping the bleeding—it no longer feels like I'm leaking. "I shouldn't have brought you with me," Wyatt says as he crashes down behind me. "It's my fault that Bob and Garett died." His sheer weight got me tumbling into him, and his arm falls over me, holding me in place. It sounds like he is crying. It breaks my heart because I feel at ease with him, safe. He is like a giant teddy bear, but right now, he is vulnerable, and it tears me apart. I suck oxygen into my lungs, fully aware of my heartache. "Hey," I whisper at Wyatt, holding his shaking hand. "It's not your fault that they died—we didn't know Marcus had a bomb, and Bob made his own decision to save me." "I know, I'm just..." He is breathing into my neck with his curly locks brushing against me. It tickles. I
WyattI approach the hybrid town through the forest with my skin bleeding and pants leaving my body. My exhaustion is rising, and my thoughts are scattered, running wild with worry as I clutch Maeve to my body. She was so close to dying. Shit. I will never let her go again, never look away!"Wyatt..." Maeve chuckles a little. Her head slumps to my shoulder, where she rests with her eyes closed. It's beyond me how she can appear so peaceful after what we have survived. "You can slow down. No one is chasing us, and we are both alive.""But you are-..." I stop talking, confused about the growing smile on Maeve's lips. Why does she seem so entertained? It's annoying not to know!"I'm what?" Her hand strokes over my chest, and she digs her cheek into my naked skin, inhaling my scent. My heart swells. I care about her so much, and she is injured because of me. "Well… I'm alive, Wyatt. I'm grateful for that, and if I'm blind, then so what? At least you ca
WyattWhen I can see again, I crawl on all fours while my heart is aching with the knowledge Maeve is hurt. I'm a hybrid, and my skin is burning. One of my legs is hurting tremendously—nothing important. It will heal in mere minutes, but Maeve won't heal if she is injured.She is a human who might need a hospital—Shit, I shouldn't have taken her with me! I won't forgive myself if she is dead or injured! I'm already responsible for my mother's death, and now maybe I've also murdered Maeve.I'm such a monster!A fucking idiot!Maeve isn't a superhero—why the hell did I bring her here?!"Maeve!" I call her name through the smoke, making my way forward over rocks and debris from the mansion. White fragments are circling in the air like snow, and I cough as I crawl. My heart is beating a mile per minute. "Maeve?!""Fucking shit! That hurt!" Bob swears to the right of me, and I watch him stand up, entirely unscathed as if
WyattMy heart is in pieces, shattered, as I walk into the building where Marcus is supposed to live. I should plan on how to kill him, how to make Marcus suffer as he deserves. Instead, my entire focus is on what I told Maeve yesterday.I told her the thought that has plagued my mind for as long as I can remember—that I can't have children. If I could decide, I would have plenty of children, at least three, but I don't want my lover to die.I wouldn't be able to live with the grief of losing Maeve in childbirth. My father raised me and handled his sadness, but I don't want my life to be a repeat of his tragic one. He had Giovani and me by his side, but his gaze would always turn sad whenever we would pass a lake as if he could imagine my mother being there.Halting in my tracks, I glance over my shoulder, finding Maeve tilting her head at me with a weak smile. She is beautiful, like a gemstone in a place with rocks. Her soul is so pure. I love how
MaeveAs we drive through the woods, past ghostly trees, I hold on to Wyatt as if he is my lifeline. My guy tells us to turn around the car, but Marcus chasing our families and sending his men to kill us must end. I'm tired of running, and I don't want my children to fear him like I've done since I was a child.My mother, Zoya, taught me how to fight at the ripe age of four. It was when we started, and no child should be using guns that early.In the future, I want my children to enjoy their childhood. I want them to play with the other kids instead of teaching them how to use a flamethrower.I look out through the window, squeezing Wyatt's hand. "I hope us murdering Marcus will be easy. I have a bad feeling about visiting him, but we have to end this horror story.""I think it will be easy to get rid of the man," Wyatt replies. "Marcus is old, almost blind if you ask Bob. Victor was his strength, and he is dead."Bob meets my eyes in the re
MaeveMy breasts feel heavy when Wyatt carries me outside of the car. I'm wrapped around him but not able to circle his large torso entirely. He is too broad, too damn powerful, and the awareness makes my clit throb with hot, pulsating need.He is this ridiculously tall mountain of a man, while I'm the lucky woman allowed to touch him. My heart is beating double-time in my chest. I can't wait to fuck him, or get fucked by him, whichever is fine. I was drawn in hours ago, tricked to get turned on, when Wyatt let me touch his enormous pecs much more prominent than my boobs."I'm so hard for you," Wyatt speaks huskily; even his voice sounds like sexual frustration. His breath is warm, evaporating in the frozen air. "I wish you could touch me."Pure ecstasy hits me when I hear his deep, raw voice filled with desire. I can't confirm if his words are valid, but I'm dying to find out. I'm quivering with anticipation as Wyatt explores the surface of my clothes.
WyattHandshakes are special because some people only touch your skin, while others affect your soul.Maeve is sitting next to me in the middle seat of the car. I'm glancing out through the window, pretending Maeve's hand on my thigh doesn't reach deeper than the surface of my jeans. The truth is that she is under my skin, and I can't remove her from there.My eyes briefly glance down at Maeve. She is sleeping peacefully, and with a heavy sigh, I brush her hair with my hand."You're a pain in the ass..." A soft smile touches my face, and with warmth flooding my senses, I hug her to my chest. "But I wouldn't want you ever to change."Maeve snores in response, and I chuckle.When I was younger, I was always smiling and trying to make people like me. I feared being lonely, which surprise-surprise made everyone think I was annoying. Little Wyatt was too horny for attention, and I was bullied for it.As a child, I was small and motherless.