CHAPTER 113
**WINTER**
“Zion, no, we shouldn’t—” My voice barely escapes before his lips crash into mine, stealing the rest of my protest.
The kiss is rough and urgent, and it drowns out my words, scattering my thoughts into nothing. His hands rip the front of my t-shirt, the fabric tearing like paper, and his mouth is everywhere—hot and demanding as he trails kisses down my collarbone.
"You're such a fucking bitch," he growls against my skin, each heated kiss searing deeper, his words a twisted mix of insult and desire that makes my blood boil.
Fury ignites in me, and I kiss him back just as hard, just as angry—pouring every ounce of defiance into it before I shove him with all the strength I have, chest heaving.
"Am I? Then why the hell can't you just leave me alone?" My voice cracks, raw and trembling, thick with the storm of emotions I refuse to name.
Zion’s laugh escapes him, a throaty sound that drips with disdain and detachment. He’s so lost in his haze of hatred that he genuinely doesn’t care about the pain he’s causing.
“Why, Zion?” I push for an answer, desperation threading through my words.
He leans closer, his voice a menacing murmur.
“I warned you. From the very beginning, I told you this would happen.”
“Because I supposedly lied about something?” I retort, my voice trembling.
“Not that I remember lying about anything. But it couldn’t have been so severe that you’ve been treating me like dirt since I arrived. You deserved it, so get over yourself!”
Zion’s eyes narrow as he sneers.
“There you go again, lying through your teeth like the bitch you are.” His voice is low and harsh, his expression cast in sinister shadows by the darkness around us.
I hate myself for noticing how dangerously captivating he looks like a fallen angel shrouded in malevolence.
“And I’m going to get my revenge with full interest,” he says, grabbing my arms with a grip that is both firm and possessive.
“Leave me alone!” I push against him, my hands pounding against his chest, but he’s quicker, snatching my wrists and yanking me toward him.
Our faces are inches apart, our breaths mingling in the air—an intoxicating mix of weed, whiskey, vodka, and cranberry. I take a moment to steady my breathing before I force out each word with a steely resolve.
“I haven’t. Lied. About. Anything.”
Zion’s laugh comes again, this one even more taunting than before.
“Oh, but you have...buy right now you feel so fucking good...”
I should push him away. I should scream. But all I can think is *more.* I need more. His touch is fire against my skin, and I feel like I’m burning alive, consumed by this twisted, overwhelming need. My arms wrap around his neck instinctively, anchoring us together and pulling him closer.
“You feel so good too,” I gasp, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
Zion’s fingers tighten around my throat, his grip just firm enough to make me breathless.
“What do you need, Snowflake?” His voice is dark, teasing. “Say it.”
“I don’t know... I...want you… I need you,” I pant, the desperation in my voice unmistakable.
His grip flexes, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing my ear. “Beg.”
“Please, Zion,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
Something flashes in his eyes—something dangerous, almost predatory—and before I can comprehend it, I’m falling.
The world tilts and spins, and then I hit the ground hard, my backside slamming into the dirt next to the tree. Pain shoots up my spine, the rough bark scraping against my back.
“Z-zion, what are you—” I stammer, confusion clouding my mind as I struggle to understand what just happened.
When I look up at him, the playful heat in his eyes is gone, replaced by an icy, detached coldness that steals the breath from my lungs.
“Did you think I’d ever fuck a girl like you?” His words cut through me like shards of glass, each syllable sharper than the last. “A liar.”
“W-what?” I croak, staring up at him, my chest tightening. The world around me feels like it’s collapsing. “I don’t understand. You were… you were—”
“And you begged for it so well, didn’t you?” His voice is full of venom as he mocks me, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Like a little slut.
‘More, Zion,’” he sneers. “‘Please, Zion.’” He mimics my words with a twisted satisfaction that makes my stomach churn.
The realisation hits me like a freight train, slamming into my chest and knocking the air from my lungs. He was playing me. This whole time, he was *playing* me. My heart plummets as I stare up at him in disbelief, everything I felt, everything I thought unravelling in front of me.
“No,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You wanted it… you wanted me.”
“No, Snowflake,” he says coldly, straightening up and pulling his phone from his pocket.
“I told you. I wanted to ruin you.” He holds the phone up, the flash blinding me for a second as it goes off, capturing me in this moment of humiliation. He takes photo after photo, his expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes are filled with cruel satisfaction.
I feel sick, my stomach twisting painfully as I sit there, broken and humiliated, with Zion standing over me like a predator who’s just caught his prey.
“Zion!” I shout, panic flooding my veins.
“Delete those. Now.”
I scramble to my feet, my hands trembling, aware of how dishevelled I must look; my shirt was torn and my heart was racing. “Delete them right now!” I lunge at him, but he swats me aside effortlessly like I’m nothing.
“I don’t think so,” he says calmly, slipping the phone into his pocket.
“Consider it something for me to remember this night. You so much as breathe a word of this to Mom, and I’ll make sure every single person at college knows exactly what a dirty little whore Winter Johnson is.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I force them back.
*I will not cry.*
I refuse to give him that satisfaction. “You bastard,” I spit, my voice shaking with anger.
“Never claimed to be anything else,” Zion replies, a smug smirk curving his lips. He steps back, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.
“This was fun and all, but I’ve promised Cindy I’ll fuck her senseless tonight.” He winks, turning on his heel and walking away as if none of this mattered.
But I stand there, frozen, my world crashing down around me. How did this happen? How could I have been so blind, so foolish? My body trembles, my thoughts spiralling as the weight of everything hits me like a tidal wave.
At the last second, Zion glances back over his shoulder, his gaze cold and calculating.
“What?” I snap, my voice barely more than a whisper as I feel myself beginning to unravel, everything I thought I knew shattering into pieces around me.
Zion throws his head back and laughs—a deep, mocking sound that makes my stomach churn.
*He laughs.*
When his gaze settles back on me, it’s filled with something dark and cruel, and I can feel a crack forming inside me, splintering wide open.
"How does it feel?" he asks, his voice cold and dripping with venom.
"Knowing that every time you see me with another girl, you’ll always think back to this moment?" He steps closer, towering over me, his words slicing through the air like daggers.
"The moment you realized you weren’t good enough to fuck. The moment I *refused* to fuck you."
My lips tremble, my whole body shakes, but I press them together tightly, refusing to let him see how deeply his words cut. I won’t give him the satisfaction of another breath, another tear. I’m done—*so* done with him.
Zion Royal is dead to me. Whatever piece of him I thought was salvageable, whatever shred of humanity I believed was still in there, is gone. He’s nothing but a monster wearing a perfect face, and I hope he rots in hell for everything he’s done.
I hope he rots for *this.*
With one last, hateful glance, I turn away, walking into the darkness, my mind burning with the image of his twisted smirk. But I know one thing for certain now: Zion will never have any power over me again.
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