Zion

“Nixon? Don’t tell me this is some stupid cliché story where he wants me.”

“He wants me,” Zion replies, causing my skin to pale.

“What?” I ask, shocked as I pull away from Zion. “Like what? Romantic? Or-

“Dead.”

“He wants you dead?” I ask, my voice cautious as my fingers begin to shake. “Why was I moved from the palace?”

Zion shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re the King. King Zion, you could order his arrest for all you want,” I state, sitting back upon a stool, watching as the Alpha King paces back and forth through the kitchen. “If he wants you de-

“Sybil stop!”

I’m shut down, my mouth shutting right away.

Zion stares at me, his eyes turning black, his body tense. I can tell his wolf is close to being let loose. “Just stop asking questions and talking for one! For one!”

My eyebrows knit together.

“Is that anyway to speak to your wife?!”

His eyes go completely black.

“I am here for you, Zion!” I snap. “If an Alpha wants you dead and you pull me from the palace there better be a fucking good reason behind it and you’d better have a plan.”

I watch as Zion nods, his head bowed in defeat as I call his name. Zion looks up to me, watching as I motion him to come closer with my finger. As he approaches, I reach out my hands, wrapping them around his neck as I pull him close.

Looking into his eyes, those black orbs turn golden once more. The same golden shade from my dream.

“You know I love you.”

“The idea or actually in love with me?” I ask, cocking my head to the side as Zion takes a step closer.

“I’m in love with you and nothing you say or do could ever change that.”

A smile spreads across my face. “Glad to hear,” I whisper, a hint of laughter in my voice as think back to Nixon.

Nixon was nice to me. Nixon cared.

At least he tried to seem that way.

To think Zion would even let him back into the palace after the murder of Lillian Rice, to think Zion would even let Nixon close to me.

“Why?” I ask, my voice a small whisper.

“Why what?”

I take in a deep breath. “Why did you allow me around Nixon when you knew he had killed Lillian?”

Zion’s eyes move away from my own, flickering around the room as my nerves begin to make my fingers shake.

“I always had men watching, and I know, I know Nixon would never hurt you.”

“If he wanted to hurt you he would of come after me,” I comment, watching as Zion shakes his head.

“Not Nixon. He doesn’t think that way. He doesn’t care for my mental state being harmed. Nixon wants me dead.”

“Why?”

“Three people, a love triangle. Lillian was the center, Nixon and I were only the other two sides,” Zion begins. “She was the center of our worlds. We did not want to share. Nixon thought Lillian had chosen him in the end, happy as I suffered while he had Lillian...but the second he found out Lillian had chosen me after all, he killed her.”

Silence.

No words as Zion takes in a deep breath.

“Nixon thought if he couldn’t have her...no one could have her. He killed her with that thought. Now, Nixon wants me dead because I’ve turned out better than him in the end.”

“How have you turned out better?” I question.

“He saw that I had found you, fallen for you. He left me alive because he wanted me to suffer with Lillian’s dead always in mind. He moved on, as you saw with Lily,” Zion softly speaks, his voice shaky. “He doesn’t want me to be happy anymore.”

I nod.

“It’s not that you kill someone that your victim loves, Sybil,” Zion begins. “You kill the individual, for then their character seizes to exist, their personality and existence. The only thing left is their memory. To truly get his revenge...he wants me dead.”

My whole body shudders with the idea. The idea of Zion upon the marble floor of the palace, his blood upon the polished floor.

“Is it safe to head back to the palace?” I ask, getting off the stool as Zion steps back. “I mean, why not just order his arrest.”

“War.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“War means you need all the aid you can, and sadly Nixon’s pack is one of the largest in the Empire. We are needing his pack. This is not like the human world, where you have a great number of men ready to fight as you call upon them. Our world is smaller than theirs and our battles deadlier.”

I know what he means. If he kills Nixon or even arrests him, his pack would pull out support and maybe even start a rebellion. Both outcomes, either one, could cripple the force of the Werewolf Empire.

“I’m estimating that in a week we can go back to the palace. To just wait until Nixon is called back onto the battle field.”

And a week comes and passes quick.

Within a week I’ve been locked up within the safe house, Zion by my side. Constantly he is called into meetings with King Oscar or is constantly calling his men out on the field to get word.

Penelope comes and goes as she pleases, sneaking out with guards into the city near bye as she sees a witch for a faster healing upon her shoulder.

By day I’m either catching a small conversation with Zion, speaking with Penelope, or alone as I stare out upon the snow-covered grounds. By night Zion and I are together at last, locked within our room by choice.

Now, as the clock ticks and the wind is noisy outside, I roll over, an arm wrapping around the warm body of my husband. Husband. It still seems strange to say or think. It also causes a smile to spread across my face.

I’ve been awake since ten minutes ago.

Since I woke up from the dream.

The dream of Zion picking up a small boy from the floor, the child laughing as his father swings him around, smiling as I watch from afar.

Looking up, I prop myself up upon my elbow, looking at Zion as he sleeps beside me. His eyes shut, a soft snore coming from his lips, his head facing me as he looks perfect.

My eyes begin to water, a small tear escaping as my hand quickly wipes it away.

A ghost smile spreads across my face as another tear falls.

“I’ve seen our son,” I whisper, barely even to be heard as my voice cracks with a silent sob.

Falling back onto the bed, my arm reaches out, fingers tracing Zion’s jawline as I look his way. “And he’s beautiful, just like you.”

Pulling my hand away, I pull the covers over my body, closing my eyes once again as I listen to the ticking of the clock.

After another twenty minutes I’m lost in what to do as I cannot fall asleep.

I make my move, about to get up from the bed, only for an arm to wrap around my body.

“Not yet,” his voice calls out, mumbling as I smirk. “We hardly have seen each other this week.”

“I don’t think this includes ’seeing,’” I reply, rolling over to spot Zion’s golden eyes.

“We’re back in the palace tomorrow anyway,” Zion informs, making me happy with those words. Finally back to the place I call my home. “Can’t wait.”

Wrapping my arms around his torso, I pull myself closer to Zion, resting my chin upon his chest. “What’s the plan when we get back. Pease promise me you-

“I’ll what?” Zion asks as my hand shoots to my mouth.

I get up from the bed, rushing over to the bathroom as vomit rises in my throat.

I barely even make it to the toilet before the vomit escapes.

My throat burns as I’m on my knees, Zion right on my trail as he curses. “I’ll get you some flu medicine,” he informs, grabbing my hair as he holds it back. “Goddess you seem sick.”

I nod my head, nausea overcoming me once more as Zion tries to not breath it in.

“Sorry,” I mumble, hearing the front door of the room burst open.

Penelope enters right away, cursing as she enters, telling Zion to go and grab some febreeze or something.

As Zion leaves, Penelope shuts the door right away, lifting my chin to look at her. “How sick do you feel?”

“Only nauseous,” I mumble, watching as Penelope wets down a hand towel, wiping my face and cleaning me up. “Just randomly occurred,” I add.

“How often?”

“I’ve only puked one other time,” I reply, hearing Zion asking a guard for some type of ‘smelling items.’ “I think I may be catching something.”

Penelope shakes her head.

What? What does she mean?

“Just take some Tylenol and some sleeping pills for the flight back. Should be a smooth ride and when you’re back at the palace, you’ll have a doctor there to aid you,” Penelope states, helping me up from the floor as Zion enters, saying he got some spray.

Penelope helps me back to the bed, saying to just try and sleep. As I’m back under the covers, Zion is spraying the bathroom as I remember his second proposal in Miami. How he’d loved me even when it hurts too much to shit without the aid of a nurse. That comment causes a smile to brea out upon my face as Penelope leaves the room.

To think Keva said I could of had an alternate ending if I would of just left the palace when she warned me. I could of been married with children, living with a human, taking our children to school, holding their hands as we cross the street. Singing happy birthday as family cheers around us. My parents may still be alive.

But everything I say is a big ‘if.’ It’s all one massive hypothetical.

I could.

I could have all of those things.

But I chose a path I wanted. I chose a path that has led me here. Do I regret it? Not a chance.

“Sybil,” Zion whispers, his lips brushing my cheek as I look up into those mesmerizing eyes. “I want to ask you something...”

I nod, watching as Zion gets down onto his knees, coming to eye level with me as I lay down. “Anything,” I reply, feeling his fingers trace my lower lip.

“When the war is over...” I nod. “I want us to get away.”

“How long? Where?” I ask, watching as Zion presses his forehead against my own.

“When the war is done, I want us to leave the palace for at least a few months. Go to Scotland or something, just get away and take a break.”

I like the sounds of that. The sound of taking a break from all of the drama and fears within me.

“I’d like that,” I whisper. “Can’t wait for the day.”

Zion smiles, placing a soft kiss upon my lips as I think of when the war is done.

When I’m within a house in the fields of Scotland, free from all the drama, alone with Zion, smiling as we escape the world for even just a short while.

“I love you,” I whisper, looking up into those golden eyes.

The eyes our son will one day have.