CHAPTER 246
**ZION**
I snatched the nearest knife from the kitchen block, my grip tight, knuckles white. My heart slammed in my chest as I bolted down the hall, every step urgent, every second stretching impossibly long.
Dad’s words from years ago hit me now like a pulse in my veins:
“I don’t want you to start anything, but if someone comes at you, you have to be able to defend yourself.”
I’d trained, drilled, fought, and learned every move like it was survival itself.
Now, it mattered more than ever.
It's probably the only good thing he has ever done for me.
I tore up the stairs two at a time, each step pounding like a drum in my chest, every nerve screaming in alarm.
Snowflake.
Alone.
The thought hit me like a blow, a white-hot spike of panic shooting through my veins.
Fear clawed at my chest, tight and suffocating, my stomach twisting with the sickening thought of anything—anything—happening to her.
Every instinct in me screamed that she was in danger, that the world outside could reach in and steal her from me.
Every fibre of my being demanded I get to her, shield her, and make sure she was untouchable—safe from anything, anyone, that dared threaten her.
Behind me, I heard William pounding up the stairs, too, his shouts muffled by my own panic.
He tripped on the last step, cursing loudly as he hit the floor, but I didn’t slow down. I didn’t have the luxury to worry about him—not now.
All that mattered was her.
My hand shot forward, slamming the door open, my eyes scanning every corner.
There she was, sleeping, chest rising and falling, hair splayed across the pillow.
Relief hit me so hard I could barely breathe.
But then my gaze flicked toward the open window, the curtain fluttering.
My stomach dropped.
Something was off… something wasn’t right.
I moved slowly, every step measured, careful not to wake Winter.
Her soft, even breathing was the only sound in the room, and I didn’t want to ruin that fragile peace.
Nothing seemed out of place.
Every shelf, every frame, every little thing was exactly where it should be—or so it appeared.
My gut, however, screamed that appearances were deceiving.
My muscles slowly unclenched, the tension sliding from my shoulders.
I was just jumpy—jumpier than I’d let myself admit.
The whole nightmare with the stalker, the detectives questioning Winter, had burrowed into my head, twisting every shadow, every sound into a threat.
But Winter’s system… it hadn’t triggered.
No alarms, no alerts, nothing.
The sensors by the windows and doors, the cameras I’d insisted she install after the last scare—all of it should have picked up any movement.
My stomach sank.
That meant whoever had been here either knew exactly how to bypass it… or they were already inside.
A spike of adrenaline shot through me, hotter, sharper than any anger I’d felt all day. My pulse slammed against my ribs.
No. No way.
And then—
A rush of movement, too fast, too close, slammed into the back of my head.
A sudden, brutal force slammed into the back of my head.
Pain exploded, white-hot and disorienting. I staggered forward, my knees threatening to buckle.
The knife I’d been gripping slipped from my fingers, clattering uselessly onto the floor.
“You can’t save her! Next time… she’ll pay!”
The voice hissed in my ears, venom thick and mocking.
Rage and terror collided, and every instinct screamed—protect her, Snowflake’s mine.
My vision blurred at the edges, dizziness spinning, but I refused to hit the ground.
I refused to give this bastard the satisfaction.
I spun around, every nerve on edge, trying to catch a glimpse of who the bastard who had just attacked me was. My head was pounding, vision splitting, and for a moment I could barely focus.
Through the haze of pain, I saw a shadowed figure—a blur—leap out the window into the darkness. My gut dropped.
He was gone… but not far.
“Fuck”
The knife lay just out of reach, catching the pale moonlight spilling through the open window—the same spot it must have fallen when I’d been slammed from behind.
I lunged for it, fingers closing around the handle, grip iron-tight. The echo of his mocking words still hissed in my ears—
You can’t save her… next time, she’ll pay.
"Fuck no!" I snarled, shoving the knife into my grip as I hurled myself out the window, landing hard on the damp grass below, pain lancing through my knees but burning away under the surge of adrenaline.
My head throbbed where I’d been struck, but rage kept me moving.
Zion!” William’s voice thundered from behind me. I barely heard him, my blood was a roar.
“Stay with her!” I barked over my shoulder, the command raw, sharp.
“Don’t let her out of your sight!”
“Zion! What happened?”
“No time!” I barked, eyes darting across the shadowed grounds, every muscle coiled tight.
“Where the fuck are you?!” I shouted into the shadows, chest heaving, knife clenched so tight my knuckles ached and burned.
My eyes darted frantically from one shadow to the next, breath coming in ragged bursts.
He was here—he had to be.
I could feel him, a lingering presence in the air, like smoke clinging after a fire, teasing me, daring me to make a move.
Branches whipped at my face as I crashed into the tree line, eyes scanning, ears straining for even the faintest crunch of leaves, the snap of a twig. My chest burned, but I pushed harder, chasing ghosts, chasing the smell of adrenaline and danger.
“Show yourself you fucking coward!” I roared, spinning, searching. Every sound—the rustle of leaves, the chirp of night insects—rattled like a threat.
Somewhere ahead, something shifted—a flicker of movement, gone before I could focus. My legs carried me faster, reckless, my grip tightening on the knife.
He’d been in her room. Inches from her bed. Whispering threats over her sleeping body.
No. Fucking. No.
I would tear the earth apart before I let him touch her again.
Behind me, faint and distant, I heard William’s voice calling my name, but I shut it out.
He didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered but the hunt.
Snowflake’s face flashed in my mind—the peace on her features as she slept, the fragile rise and fall of her chest—and I swore right then, if I caught him, I wouldn’t stop until he was unrecognisable.
Movement.
My head snapped toward the gate just in time to catch it—the flicker of a shadow breaking into a sprint.
My pulse kicked harder.
"Got you, you son of a bitch." I growled, and I tore after him, the world narrowing to the pounding rhythm of my boots and the blood roaring in my ear, as the figure slipped through the gate.
The metal screeched on its hinges, and I lunged, grabbing him from behind.
I lunged, grabbing him from behind.
We slammed into the ground, dirt and gravel scraping my arms, his weight thrashing under mine.
He fought like an animal, elbows jamming back, fists flailing. His hood stayed low, face hidden, but I could feel his panic in the way his body twisted.
“You’re not walking away this time!” I snarled, rage burning through my veins. I pinned his arm and drove my knife down, the blade grazing flesh.
He screamed, jerking violently as blood darkened his sleeve.
“Who the fuck are you?” I roared, tightening my grip, dragging the blade closer to his throat.
With a sudden, brutal shove, he pushed me off, sending me stumbling back.
The bastard was fast, but so was I.
My legs ate up the distance, fury and adrenaline fueling every stride, and I was on him, launching forward.
I slammed him down again, fists hammering, arms screaming with the effort.
“You picked the wrong fucking girl!”
His hood had slipped back just enough that I yanked at it, almost pulling it off entirely.
Dark, sweaty strands clung to his forehead—but that was all I got.
But Fuck!
Mud smeared across his face, masking every detail. My stomach twisted. He hadn’t wanted me to see him—he’d done it on purpose.
When he fell, it wasn’t an accident; he’d covered himself deliberately. The realisation hit me like a punch—sharp, cunning, and terrifying all at once.
I snarled, yanking him up by the hoodie, my grip like iron.
I swung a fist hard, connecting with his jaw, then followed with another, and another, each punch driving him backwards.
He fought back, elbows jabbing, fists flailing, trying to break free. Every strike he threw was desperate, wild—and just as dangerous as mine.
I shoved my weight forward, ready to finish this—
Headlights.
My eyes widened at the sudden glare cutting through the night.
A car barreled straight for us, engine snarling, tires spitting gravel.
“Shit!” I snarled, shoving off him at the last second, rolling hard across the ground as the vehicle thundered past.
The bastard scrambled to his feet with a wild, frantic energy, every movement jagged, desperate.
I lunged, heart hammering, but he was already gone—throwing himself into the backseat as the car door slammed with a deafening bang.
Tyres screamed against the asphalt, smoke curling up from the rubber as the engine roared to life.
In seconds, the car shot forward, red taillights cutting through the darkness like burning embers, vanishing into the night.
“Fuck… fuck!”
I spat, chest heaving, knife still gripped so tight my knuckles ached. Rage boiled through me, sharp and raw, frustration biting deep, leaving a hollow ache behind every heartbeat.
I’d had him. I’d fucking had him.
But he was gone.
And the echo of his words burned through me, hotter than the cut throbbing on my palm.
*Next time, she’ll pay.*
Not if I got to him first.
....
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