CHAPTER 44
**WINTER**
I hesitated for a moment, casting a glance back at Clark, who was absorbed in conversation with a redhead.
I rolled my eyes at Clark—he was supposed to be my date, yet he was already flirting with someone else already. I chuckled to myself; he and Zion were as bad as each other. But I didn’t mind. Clark was just my date, and I didn’t feel any jealousy whatsoever.
I sighed and nodded to Ethan. “Alright, just one dance.”
I took his hand and we moved onto the dance floor. As we danced and chatted casually, Claire remained nearby, which was comforting. She was dancing with a guy I didn’t recognize, but then again, I didn’t know many people here. Claire had promised to keep an eye on me when we were walking towards the dance floor, and her presence helped me feel less alone.
While Claire laughed and flirted with her dance partner, I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling of being watched. Despite my efforts to ignore it, Zion's intense gaze was unmistakable. I glanced over my shoulder and, sure enough, he was staring right at me. Sensing my unease, Ethan leaned in closer and pulled me into a tighter embrace.
"Ignore him" Ethan whispered and pulled me closer, his hands settling firmly on my hips as the music thumped around us. The heat of his body pressed against mine, making it impossible to ignore the closeness.
He moved with a smooth, practiced ease, his body guiding mine in sync with the beat. We swayed together, our hips brushing in a way that was supposed to feel intimate, but instead made me feel increasingly uneasy.
His hands slid up my sides, fingertips grazing the exposed skin just above my jeans. I tried to match his rhythm, but my movements felt awkward, forced. Ethan leaned in, his breath warm against my neck as he whispered something I couldn’t quite hear over the pounding bass. His proximity should have been thrilling, but all I felt was a growing discomfort.
I glanced around the room, seeking a distraction from the discomfort seeping into my bones. My eyes landed on Zion, his gaze a tangible force that made my breath hitch.
He sat still, ignoring the girl on his lap who was desperately trying to pull his face between her nearly exposed breasts. Her efforts were in vain; Zion's icy glare was fixed solely on me, his expression unreadable yet intense.
Ethan’s hands, which were supposed to be reassuring, now felt alien and wrong against my skin. The warmth of his breath on my neck only added to my discomfort, contrasting sharply with the chill that Zion’s gaze sent through me.
The music pounded around us, but all I could focus on was Zion’s unwavering eyes. His scrutiny made every movement with Ethan feel exaggerated, every touch too intimate, too exposed. The girl on Zion’s lap pouted and squirmed, trying to reclaim his attention, but he remained unmoved, his focus solely on me. It was as if he was daring me to look away, challenging me to ignore the undeniable tension crackling between us.
Ethan’s hands moved lower, pulling me tighter against him. He spun me around so my back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapping around my waist. The movement was supposed to be sensual, but it only heightened my sense of discomfort. I could feel his breath against my ear, his lips dangerously close to my skin.
I forced a smile, trying to play along, but the sensation of being watched, of being judged, made it impossible to relax. Every move felt scrutinized, every touch felt wrong. Ethan’s hands were too familiar, too presumptuous, and all I wanted was for the dance to end.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hot breath brushed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
"You're acting like a whore."
My heart rate kicked up as I spun around, glaring at my stepbrother.
Seriously? A whore? He was practically having sex with a girl on his lap a few moments ago. Had he gotten bored of her already and decided to ruin my night?
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m just dancing with Ethan,” I snapped, my irritation clear.
“You need to choose your friends more wisely, Snowflake,” Zion said, his eyes flicking past me to glare at Ethan.
“Unluckily for you, I don’t care for your opinion!" I snapped
"Go home!" He seethed
"Will you stop ordering me around? This is getting tiring.” I held his gaze, the tension between us sparking. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to fade away.
Grabbing my arm, Zion yanked me closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Go home, Snowflake. I have a reputation to uphold, and my so-called stepsister whoring herself on the dance floor isn’t good for it."
I wanted to slap him, but his grip tightened, pulling me even closer, his eyes burning with intensity.
“Zion…” I began, my voice softer, pleading.
“Why are you doing this? What have I done to you?” He moved a step closer, his body heat radiating through my coat. For a moment, the world around us faded away, and I forgot his animosity. Could he feel it too, this magnetic, unwanted pull between us?
“Winter!” Ethan’s insistent voice sounded, much closer than it had been a moment ago. It broke the spell, and Zion’s gaze turned hard.
"Shut it, Wilde. Can't you see I'm talking to my stepsister?" Zion's voice was a low growl.
"Yeah, but she doesn't look like she wants to talk to you, so fuck off," Ethan shot back, his tone defiant.
Zion’s eyes turned icy as he fixed his glare on Ethan. Oh no. He looked like he was about to commit murder.
“Did you just tell me to fuck off?” Zion’s voice was icy as he shoved me aside, his eyes narrowing as he advanced on Ethan.
“Yes, I did,” Ethan shot back defiantly, meeting Zion’s glare with unwavering resolve. “I’m not afraid of you, Royal.”
“Well, you should be,” Zion growled, his voice dropping to a menacing low.
Both men closed the distance, their chests almost touching. Zion’s body radiated hostility; his fists clenched at his sides as he loomed over Ethan. Ethan didn’t flinch, but his stance was tense, ready for a confrontation. The air crackled with aggression as they stood toe-to-toe, each daring the other to make the first move.
Out of nowhere, Clark appeared and stood facing Zion, placing his hands on Zion’s shoulders. "Relax, bro, chill... I'll handle this. She's my date after all."
Zion didn't move his eyes away from Ethan, his expression unyielding.
"Zion," Clark said, shaking him slightly.
"Take her home now," Zion said through gritted teeth.
"What, why?" I began to protest, but Zion's eyes grew darker as they snapped to me.
"Go home, Snowflake," he ordered, leaning in close. “I’m watching you.” With one last, scathing look, he backed away and was gone.
“What was all that about?” Ethan asked, raising a brow as he reached me.
“I wish I knew,” I replied, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion.
“Forget him. He’s a dick.”
“That’s true,” I agreed with a sigh. The evening had taken a sharp turn, leaving me feeling more bewildered than ever.
“Winter, we need to leave. Now,” Clark insists, grabbing my hand firmly.
I pull away slightly, feeling a surge of defiance.
“What? No, I’m having fun. I’m not going to let Zion, or anyone else, dictate my night. Just because he’s named Zion Royal doesn’t mean he’s the king here. He can go to hell; I’m staying.”
Clark’s face hardens, his eyes flashing with urgency. “This isn’t the time to argue. Zion’s losing his shit, and we need to get out of here before things get even worse.”
Claire, looking utterly perplexed, chimes in, “What the hell is going on with Zion? Why is he acting like this?”
Clark doesn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he grips both Claire and me with a firm yet gentle hold, steering us towards the exit. Ethan’s voice calls out from behind us, but Clark doesn’t falter in his pace.
I glance back at Zion, his anger radiating across the room, and I’m hit with a wave of frustration and confusion. What’s causing this explosive reaction? Why is he so worked up? The night that started with so much promise is unraveling into chaos, and I’m left trying to piece together what’s happening.
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