CHAPTER 164
**ZION**
It’s been an hour, and still no sign of Winter.
Every minute drags, stretching unbearably long.
Does she even know I’m here?
Or worse—does she know and just not care?
Clark lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back like he’s moments from death.
“Okay, listen. As much as I adore sitting here watching you mope like a heartbroken Victorian widow, I gotta ask—what the hell happened to Mission Thaw Winter?”
He swings his gaze toward me.
“So what’s the game plan, Romeo? Are you just gonna sit here hoping she wanders down the stairs, trips, lands in your arms, and suddenly remembers she loves you? ’Cause buddy… even Disney would call that a stretch.”
I gesture vaguely toward the stairs.
“For the record, I wasn’t banking on her tripping into my arms. I was hoping she’d come down here, scream at me, maybe throw something sharp—y’know, progress.”
Ro snorts, shaking his head as he props his feet up on the coffee table.
“Sitting here like a kicked dog isn’t exactly a winning strategy. If your plan is to do absolutely nothing… well, congrats, you’re nailing it.
Then he shrugs.
“So unless you’ve got a Hail Mary up your sleeve, I suggest we order pizza and prepare for emotional carnage.”
“They’re probably all up there right now, planning our demise.” Harry exhales, shaking his head.
Clark scoffs, leaning back with a smirk.
“Hey fucker, that’s my twin you’re talking about. She’s no murderer.”
He pauses for effect, then shrugs.
"Give her some credit, man. Killing us would be too easy. She’ll want to make us suffer first. She’s probably up there right now, stitching together voodoo dolls, getting ready to stick pins in our heads any second now."
Harry snorts. “Great. Can’t wait to wake up with a migraine and no explanation.”
“If she’s going the voodoo route, I say she starts with Z’s doll. I mean, come on—look at this face,” Clark says, gesturing to himself with a grin.
“Way too pretty to be turned into a human pincushion.”
“Oh, wow. Thanks, buddy,” I mutter, deadpan.
Clark just shrugs, still grinning.
"If she’s stabbing a doll with your face on it, that means she's thinking about you. That’s love… in a deeply unhinged, stabby kind of way.”
I huff out a dry laugh, rubbing a hand over my face.
“Out of all the people in the world, these are the idiots I chose to call my friends. Fucking Unbelievable.”
I shoot them a look, one by one.
“Not a single brain cell firing between the lot of you, but sure—let’s all just sit here and crack jokes while my life falls apart.”
“Hey, we're here, aren't we? That’s friendship in its purest form. But if you're expecting hugs, hand-holding, and motivational speeches, you seriously misread the vibe here.” Clark replies offended.
I sigh.
“Yeah, right —what a dream team. A whole support group for the emotionally constipated. I’m absolutely thriving.”
Clark chuckles.
“Emotionally constipated, huh? You know, that’s rich coming from the guy who can’t even get his shit together long enough to talk to the girl he destroyed.”
Harry shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Not fair, cousin. You’ve got the crème de la crème of emotional support sitting right here,” Harry says, gesturing dramatically to the group like he's unveiling a masterpiece.
“We’ve been marinating in your misery for an hour—no snacks, no naps, just pure, undiluted brooding vibes. That’s commitment. Honestly, if there were awards for emotionally unavailable support groups? We’d sweep. So do us all a favour—stop glaring like we’re the enemy and tell us, what’s the master plan? Sit, sulk, and wait for the universe to fix your mess with fairy dust?”
My jaw tightens. “I don’t have a master plan.”
Ro scoffs, shaking his head.
“Yeah, clearly.”
Before I can fire back, footsteps echo from the stairs. My body tenses, my heart lurching.
I’m on my feet in a second, running a hand through my hair, pulse hammering.
It’s her.
It has to be.
But as the figure comes into view, my heart sinks.
It’s not Winter.
It’s Ariel.
She stops dead in her tracks when she sees us, her eyes going wide, clearly surprised.
“What are you guys doing here?”
Ariel asks, her voice soft but laced with confusion, her gaze darting between us, clearly not expecting to see us in here.
Fuck!
If she didn’t know we were here, then Winter probably doesn’t either.
Fucking Claire didn’t tell them.
Clark raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he leans forward.
“Well, seeing as this is my house, Red, shouldn’t I be the one asking what you're doing here?”
He pauses for a beat,
“Or is this your way of telling me you've got a little crush on me? Should I be flattered?”
Ariel instinctively shakes her head, clearly flustered.
“No... I—I don’t have a crush on you," she stammers, her voice wavering.
"I was... Claire invited me," she finishes, her words uncertain.
Clark grins, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
“Ah, the ‘Claire invited me’ excuse. Classic. But hey, not that I’m complaining—I’ve got a sexy redhead in my house, what’s not to like? I’ve heard redheads are pretty fiery in bed… Care to confirm the rumour?”
Harry shoots Clark a warning look. His hands tighten into fists, clearly not appreciating the teasing, especially when it’s aimed at Ariel.
“Could you not be a complete fucking asshole for once?”
“Relax, H. It’s just a little fun. You know I’m harmless...”
He winks at Ariel, just to add fuel to the fire.
“Can’t help it if I’m irresistible. Right Red?”
Harry’s jaw clenches, his hands still tight at his sides as he glares at Clark.
“Shut the fuck up!”
Ariel, clearly uncomfortable with the tension between the two, steps back, her gaze flickering nervously between them.
"I’ll just leave," she murmurs, almost to herself.
“No, wait…”
Harry’s hand shoots out, catching hers before she can pull away.
Ariel flinches, her breath catching in her throat. He immediately notices the tension, his brow furrowing with concern.
He quickly lets go, stepping back, a bit flustered.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—look, you don’t need to leave. I just... well, I didn’t want you to think you had to go because of us.”
Damn, my cousin's got it bad.
She licks her lips nervously, clearly uncomfortable, and starts to move to walk away again.
But I can’t let her go.
Not yet.
I step in front of her, blocking her path, my chest tightening as the weight of the situation presses down on me.
“Ariel,” I say.
She looks up at me, her gaze flicking from me to the guys behind me, clearly unsure of what to do.
“I really need to talk to Winter,” I continue, my words thick with urgency.
Ariel hesitates.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with hesitation.
“Please, Ariel. I have to talk to her. I can’t fix this if I don’t get the chance to explain. I’m not asking for her forgiveness—not yet—but I need her to know that I’m sorry. I need to show her that I care.”
Ariel meets my gaze.
“I don’t think she’s ready to listen,” Ariel says quietly, her voice filled with concern. “She’s upset... angry and hurt. Even if I tried to help, I don’t think she’d listen. The pain is still too raw.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing into me with such force that I felt the air leave my lungs.
“I know she’s hurt..." I rasp, my voice breaking.
“That’s why I need to talk to her. I have to try. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m the reason she’s in pain... I need to be the one to make it right. Please, Ariel... I need your help to make her see that.”
Ariel looks at me for what feels like an eternity, her gaze searching mine.
Finally, she exhales, a soft sigh escaping her lips...
“Fuck, I should’ve known…”
A voice hisses from behind.
Claire stands there, arms crossed, her glare cutting through me like a knife.
She stalks forward, closing the distance between us in a few strides.
Without a word, she grabs Ariel’s hand, yanking her away from me.
"Using Ariel’s innocence to get what you want... Classic Royal Morons' tactic. But it’s fine—she has me now." Claire’s voice is icy, her grip on Ariel tightening as if to make sure I understand she’s taking control.
“Let’s go, Ari.”
Ariel looks torn, glancing between Claire and me, but in the end, she follows Claire’s pull, her steps reluctant but obedient.
Every inch of me wants to follow, to make this right, but I know Claire won’t let me.
The upstairs door slams shut, the sound reverberating through the heavy silence that falls over the room.
Fuck.
I take a breath, steadying myself. I’ll wait. I’ll stay here, in this godforsaken house, all night if I have to.
But I’m not leaving.
Not until I see Snowflake.
I glance back at my friends, expecting the usual banter, the sarcasm, but they’re all just staring at me. No words. No mockery. Just a heavy silence hanging in the air, thick with understanding.
For once, there's nothing to say.
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