CHAPTER 254

**WINTER**

“What do you say, Snowflake? Wanna play nurse? I promise I’ll be a good patient.” His voice dipped into a lazy, teasing purr.
He tilted his head, grin widening just enough to make it clear he was enjoying every second of this.

“Well… as good as I can be.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the smile threatening to spill, rolling my eyes instead. Typical. He was bleeding, my dad was two seconds away from losing it, and Zion was flirting like he’d just walked off a movie set. His timing was always impeccable.

Dad’s jaw flexed, hard enough I swore I could hear bone grinding. 

His eyes snapped between me and Zion like the sheer force of his glare could make Zion disappear. 

The muscles in his neck twitched; his fists clenched, slow and deliberate, as if willing him into submission through sheer rage.

“Zion,” Dad said, his voice low and clipped, each word sharp enough to cut through steel, 

“You think this is some kind of game?”

Zion didn’t even blink. 

That infuriating smirk of his only deepened, slow, deliberate, like he’d been waiting for this.

“Game? Maybe.” His voice dripped with mock-innocence. “Or maybe I just like watching you fume while Snowflake tends to me.”

He shifted slightly, settling back against the couch with the ease of someone who knew exactly how to get under someone’s skin. 

“If it’s a game, you’re losing. Snowflake here is keeping me comfortable. And you? You’re just… spectacularly bad at refereeing.”

His gaze slid to mine, all mischief and warmth, like he didn’t care that my dad’s rage was practically vibrating through the room.

“Besides,” he added, letting his voice drop, soft and sinful, 

“If she doesn’t touch me… doesn’t treat my wounds properly… how am I supposed to get better?”

Then, with a grin that could have started wars, he leaned back fully and murmured, 

“I might even let her kiss it better.”

Dad’s face darkened. 

For a split second, something like disbelief flickered there, buried beneath the fury. He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply, as if breathing through the audacity of the boy in front of him.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?” he growled. But beneath that fury, there was a strange undertone—like he hated every word but couldn’t quite ignore the way Zion owned the space around him. 

“Flirting with her, taunting me, while bleeding like a damn fool? You’re unbelievable.”

“Oh, Step-daddy,” Zion drawled, smooth as silk, 

“If I’m infuriating you, then I must be doing something right. Someone has to keep things interesting around here.”

He shifted closer to me, his hand brushing against my side—not too much, just enough to make Dad twitch. 

“And don’t worry,” he added with a wicked smirk, 

“I promise I’ll behave… for now.”

“A lot of nerve. And yet…” Dad’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. For a heartbeat, I half-expected him to lunge across the room.

But before anything else could explode, Jenny’s voice sliced through the charged air. 

“Oh for Heaven's sake...He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, William,” she hissed, fingers curling around Dad’s arm, tugging him back. 

“Don’t give him the satisfaction… now, come on—the police are waiting downstairs,” she added, starting to steer him away.

Dad exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw tight, eyes flicking back at Zion with a mixture of fury and reluctant acknowledgement. His voice was low, almost a growl, muttered as he trudged off:

“…that boy is impossible.”

Jenny threw Zion a sharp, weary look. 

“You...If that bleeding doesn’t stop, we’re taking you to the hospital. Understand?”

Zion didn’t even flinch.

He lifted a hand in a mock salute, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“Understood, ma’am,” he said, voice dripping with playful defiance, as Jenny led Dad away,

Zion’s gaze snapped back to me, lazy and heated. 

His grin curved into something more dangerous, like the silence was an opportunity he couldn’t resist. 

His eyes locked onto mine with that lazy, wicked glint. He shifted just enough to lean closer, voice dropping low and intimate, like a secret meant only for me.

“Alone at last,” he murmured, slow and deliberate. 

“Maybe we should head upstairs,” he murmured, voice slow and thick with that brand of shameless heat only he could pull off. The corner of his mouth curved into a grin that wasn’t just teasing—it was a promise wrapped in trouble.

“My bedroom seems like the perfect place for you to take proper care of me,” he went on, drawing out each word like a caress. His gaze dragged over me—slow, deliberate, making my skin tingle under the weight of it. “No interruptions. No step-daddy breathing down our necks. Just… us.”

He tilted his head slightly, lowering his voice to a low, wicked rumble that sent a pulse of warmth straight through me.

“Patch me up,” he added, his grin deepening into something sinful, “maybe kiss me better while you’re at it. You know… really make sure I heal properly.”

His fingers brushed against my arm—barely there, but enough to make my breath catch. “I’ve heard skin-to-skin contact is good for recovery,” he whispered, the words sliding through the quiet like smoke. “And you wouldn’t want to risk me getting worse, would you, Snowflake?”

He leaned in just close enough that I could feel his breath feather against my ear, low and dangerous.

“Maybe,” he murmured, “you’ll end up taking care of me all night.”

The grin that followed wasn’t sweet. It was slow, predatory, and devastatingly sure of itself—like he already knew exactly what he was doing to me.

I forced a laugh, rolling my eyes, but my chest ached. 

My smile felt too tight, like a mask I was desperately holding in place.

Because underneath it… was the image of him bleeding, pale, stumbling toward me. The scent of blood in the air. 

The way my stomach had clenched so violently I could barely breathe. If things had gone a little differently tonight, if the stalker’s blade had been an inch higher, if Zion hadn’t been fast enough—

I blinked hard, swiping the wetness at the corner of my eye before he could see. I couldn’t fall apart now. 

Not when he was looking at me like that, not when he was trying to make everything feel light.

“You’re ridiculous, Zion Royal.”

He leaned just a little closer, his grin shifting from playful to something slower, more dangerous—like a wolf pretending to be tame. 

“Ridiculous…” he murmured, his breath brushing against my cheek, 

“…or irresistible?”

That word hung between us, heavy and shameless, and for a second, my heart forgot how to beat properly. 

His eyes glinted with that wicked, knowing look he always wore when he’d managed to slip under my skin without even trying.

I huffed a laugh, soft and shaky, shaking my head like I wasn’t already halfway gone. 

“Come on,” I said, reaching out and catching his hand before he could push me further into the storm he’d started. 

“Let’s get you to bed before you actually pass out on the floor. I’m not letting my royal drama king collapse before I can properly take care of him.”

His fingers curled around mine almost immediately, warm and sure, like they belonged there. 

His other hand slid around my waist as he pulled himself upright, moving closer than he needed to.

“Fine, fine,” he breathed, his grin lazy and devastating. 

“But you have to admit… I make a pretty convincing damsel in distress.”

I snorted, trying to smother the warmth rising in my chest. 

“You’re the least damsel-y person I know.”

“Then call me the dangerously handsome idiot you can’t say no to,” he shot back, voice a velvet drawl that sent a shiver down my spine.

I rolled my eyes again but my hand tightened on his anyway, steadying him, guiding him toward the stairs. 

And even though I was trying so hard to act normal, my pulse betrayed me, thudding hard against my ribs. 

Because I knew he was bleeding. Because I knew if things had gone just a little differently tonight, I could have been leading him somewhere else entirely.

“Let’s go,” I whispered, softer now.

And behind that easy banter, behind his wicked smile and my practised eye rolls, a tight knot of fear twisted low in my chest.

He took my hand, grin softening just slightly. 

"Lead the way, Nurse Snowflake. But I expect your full attention. And maybe… a kiss or two.”

My heart squeezed, but I plastered on another teasing smile. 

“Full attention, sure. Kisses? Don’t push your luck.”

We made our way upstairs slowly. 

..

Zion leaned even more heavily on me, exaggerating every step as if walking upright was a mortal challenge. 

He leaned more on me than necessary, milking every step for dramatic effect. Each stagger and exaggerated wince seemed carefully timed to make me groan.

“Your arm is hurt,” I muttered, keeping my tone clipped.

“Not your legs,” he countered, gasping loudly, clutching his chest with exaggerated distress.

“You wound me more than the blade ever could,” he added, tilting his head back like he was performing for an audience.

I froze mid-step. My laugh died in my throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath. 

“Zion! That’s not funny!” I hissed, stopping in my tracks. My hands gripped his shoulders firmly, shaking him lightly. 

“That blade—do you even realise what could’ve happened? That could have seriously hurt you!”

He blinked at me, the mischievous grin faltering ever so slightly as my voice sharpened. 

The playful weight of his body against me didn’t lessen, but the levity in his eyes dimmed into something more attentive, almost careful.

“—I know, I know,” he murmured, his tone dropping, less performance, more earnest, 

“But—come on, Snowflake… a little drama never hurt anyone.”

I shook my head, exasperation and lingering fear warring in my chest

But I could feel it. 

That cold, quiet terror still coiled tight beneath my ribs. He could have died tonight. Someone I love could die next. The stalker wasn’t gone.

I forced the thought down. 

Not now.

He let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back slightly but still pressing against me, his grin softening into something almost genuine. 

“Fine, fine… I’ll behave,” he muttered, though the weight of his playful leaning didn’t fully disappear.

I huffed, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, trying to steady the racing of my own pulse. 

“You’re impossible,” I said quietly, more to myself than him, my fingers lingering on his arm to make sure he was truly okay.

By the time we reached his room, Zion was leaning into me like he couldn’t walk. I sighed and helped him onto the bed, shaking my head.

He propped his head on one hand, grin lazy and dangerous. 
..

“So, Snowflake,” he drawled, eyes glinting with mischief, 

“Should I take this shirt off so you can—y’know—get a proper look?”

He undid the buttons one by one, painfully slow, letting each tug linger. My eyes flicked to his chest, and I couldn’t help the small hitch in my breath as I took in the sight of his bare skin, the faint trace of the scratch catching the dim light.

Then, with a sly twist of his hips, Zion tugged his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. His chest was fully exposed now, and I blinked, trying to focus—but before I could warn him, he started tugging at the waistband of his pants.

I gasped, hands flying to cover my mouth. 

“Wait! Why are you taking off your pants?!”

He shrugged, eyes sparkling with mock innocence. “Who knows… maybe one thing will lead to another?”

My heart lurched, a mix of exasperation, embarrassment, and that familiar flutter that always came with him. I jabbed a finger at his chest.

“Zion Royal! You’re hurt, and you’re still thinking with your—”

“Thinking with my what, Snowflake?”

“Urggg… This is not a game, and I am not letting you get carried away. Pants stay on.”

He leaned back, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Okay, fine… but promise me you won’t take full advantage of my poor, helpless self tonight,” he added, voice soft and daring.

I arched a brow, sarcasm dripping from my tone. 

“Helpless, huh? Don’t worry… I won’t take full advantage of you…tonight.”

He pouted—full-on, dramatic pout—resting his head against the pillows.

“Damn...I was kinda hoping you’d argue that you wanted to take advantage…” His voice was soft, teasing, almost like a little kid testing a rule.

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my tone light, though a tiny shiver of worry slid through me. 

“Zion… you’re ridiculous..."

I knelt beside him, carefully cleaning the wound, forcing my hands to stay steady. His flirtations buzzed in the air, teasing and light, but my mind was elsewhere—reliving everything that could have gone wrong tonight, the way the stalker had almost gotten to him. I wiped at a stray tear I hadn’t realised had fallen, forcing a small, strained smile.