Zion

The first thing that wakes me up isn’t the sound of movement, the sunlight streaming in, or anyone shaking me awake, but the pain in my nose.

Completely flooded by the overwhelming feelings of determination, completion, pride, and adornment last night, we had simply decided to push the realization of my bloody and broken nose out of the way, only to later reset it after midnight. Sure, I knew it was broken, and as a werewolf these things heal faster, but the pain still lives on as I lay here now.

With the cold air of the room nipping at my bare front and my head spinning with the memories of last night, I let out a deep sigh. No regrets. None. Nada. Unless you count the sleep deprivation that I have now. If I ever even thought I’d be sleeping beside and even with a male nine years my senior, I’d just think I was crazy. Sure, there are greater age gaps and due to being werewolf Zion doesn’t actually look his age, but it still makes me question why he is with me. Zion says he cares for me, he wants to be next to me for the rest of his life, but what made him want a younger girl in that way?

What made him really want me? He claims love at first sight from the moment he saw me running after the robber and landing a swift kicks to the dude’s balls. He says he fell for me right then and there, as if mates were nothing but a silly story our society tells us to agree with.

The shower begins to run in the next room, the door open, and a pounding in my heart begins. Maybe he killed my parents. Maybe he tells me truth.

Sitting up, I shake my head, trying to clear it as the sunlight meets my eyes. Today. I do not know what will happen today. Having gotten the name of the rogue to find, I know that is our next step in the war, but I still have a journey of my own. A journey of questions and answers.

I didn’t even have a chance to ask about my parents or even Zion’s true mate last night. However, with this new name, I plan on having a private conversation with him about these names.

Maybe Zion did kill my parents. Maybe Sebastian was telling the truth the first time in that they were attacked by rogues. Lillian or Quinn, one of the two were Zion’s mate. Lillian is dead as I’ve been told, and Zion talked of Quinn in past tense. Is Quinn dead? Or was Zion talking in past tens about her because he wants to put her behind him?

He once asked if I trusted him, and I said yes. I said yes because I want to trust him, and I do...but when it comes to matters that I now face, I’m unsure sometimes. I should be able to trust this man that I am to marry. I should be able to give him my life to protect without a single doubt.

Getting to my feet, I head to my luggage, rummaging through all the items Marisa had packed. I swear there’s enough clothing for two months in here. I don’t even know what we are to do next, if we are to find this Arthur guy and get a word in, or just head back to the palace. Who knows why I need this much clothing, ranging from casual to formal.

In my opinion, I’d rather find this guy and get it done with than wait in the palace with a bunch of up-tight Alphas.

Arms suddenly wrap around my torso, pulling me into a slightly damp chest. As a chin rests upon my shoulder, I can feel the scruff of a five-o-clock shadow, letting me know exactly who it is.

“Plans for the day?” I ask, reminding myself what I’m here for.

Teeth graze against my neck, causing the hairs on my neck to stand straight up. Canines extend as they begin to prick my neck.

Instantly I push away, turning around to face a bare King as my eyes widen.

Not expecting that.

I look back up to meet his gaze of darkening eyes and a smirk upon is lips. “I had a man working on finding our contact all through the night. We are traveling to Miami in about two hours.” I pushed away because of the mark. Because it would be a Sybil upon my body forever unless I decide to cut him from my life and allow a witch to cast a spell upon it. Maybe I do want to be marked by Zion, but it would be best not to see this contact or the ring leaders with a mark on.

“Fucking Miami,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as I just want to go somewhere away from the crowds.

“Was the curse word worth it?” Zion asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You call them curse words, Zion...I call them sentence enhancers.”

He laughs, one authentic laugh that fills the room. How I’ve missed the sound of his laughs. I swear it’s the sexiest thing he could ever do... along with many other things.

Suddenly a light kiss is placed upon my cheek, a smile still present upon his lips as I grab my clothing for the day. “Now, excuse me as I steal your warm water and get ready for the drive,” I inform, walking past the King and into the bathroom, locking the door.

In fifteen minutes I’m drying my hair in a towel and sliding on a light pair of jeans and thin, red shirt. “When are we heading out exactly?” I ask as I get out of the bathroom, not shocked to see the King clad in a gray Italian suit.

Leaning against the doorway, I cross my arms, watching as he fixes the navy tie. “At four. We should be there by seven then by car.”

As the King turns around, I walk forward, taking his hands in mine. The second he catches sight of the engagement ring upon my finger, a smile even wider spreads across his face. “When we get back to the palace, my dearest Sybil, we shall plan the wedding.”

The wedding.

Stress takes over as I feel my heart leap out of my chest. Is it because I don’t want to get married? Is it because it’s going to take work?

No. It’s not.

It’s because I’m about to give the rest of my life to a man I’ve barely been around.

That I’m about give myself not only to this man, but to a Kingdom, that I will be a woman who wears a crown and is someone who people look up to. Some people may hate me, detest me, tolerate me, or possibly (and hopefully) even adore me.

“You still want to get married, Sybil,” he pauses. “Right?”

Zion pulls away, uncertainty flooding his eyes as he looks worried.

Should I have said those words? Did I express myself wrong?

Do I still want to marry Zion?

Do I still want to claim my love for this man at the alter?

Do I even know what love is?

When I see him my heart flutters and my wolf leaps in joy. When I see him smile I can’t help but smile as well. When laughs my heart takes a leap in my chest.

Is this love? Or is something I’m lying to myself about, that I love this man because he offers shelter from the world I was once part of.

Could this be cold feet?

Looking right into his eyes, I can see his pain as my eyes begin to water.

He walks away, leaving the hotel room as I’m left alone to the silence.

A hand lands across my mouth, keeping in the sobs as they escape my mouth.

I crumble to the floor, my legs too weak to uphold myself, my hands over my mouth as the tears begin to fall.

For what feels like years I sit on the floor, sobbing alone as all that runs through my head is Zion.

I hurt him.

I made him feel an emotional pain so raw that could cause him to forever loathe me.

Soon, a woman steps into the room, explains that we are leaving and she has come to collect Zion’s luggage. Once my bags are taken down, I follow the doorman, heading to one of the four SUVs.

He stands beside one, not even looking my way as he chats with Alpha Nixon. I feel out of place here, as of back at my first day of school at a new school where I know no one and no one bothers even noticing me. It feels childish for him to ignore me like this, but he has a right. He thinks I just told him without a word spoken that I no longer want marriage.

Zion hops into one car, shutting the door behind, his gaze barely meeting mine. My heart feels as if it is stabbed. As if I’ve just lost a piece of me.

Looking to Alpha Nixon, I see him holding open the care door for me, a different vehicle, meaning I’ve really hurt the King’s feeling.

It sounds weird to put it like that. ‘Hurt the King’s feelings.’ It sounds as if this is preschool, as if I’ve called him dumb or some stupid name that kids would cry from. But who knew the big, bad wolf could be such a gentle-hearted fellow.

Getting in, Alpha Nixon follows me, taking a seat beside me as our driver hops in, letting us know how long we have to go. Right away Alpha Nixon pulls out his laptop and begins on some files.

If there’s something I need right now, I actually wouldn’t mind talking with Elijah, Zion’s best friend. Elijah could offer me a laugh and a smile upon my frowned face. He could make me see the greener grass on the other side and maybe even help me out here. Maybe even knock some sense into me of what I am doing.

But most of all, I’d want my mother here, helping me. She once got married as well, also getting cold feet as she almost ran away the day of her wedding. My mother could have helped me understand what I am truly feeling right now.

It’s as if all of those people I once relied on are now gone. Either taken from me due to death, Sebastian rejected and made me rogue, or simply because Zion dragged me with him to the palace. The moment I was rejected I remember my world flipping upside down, but around Zion, I felt as if I belonged and someone cares once more for me.

And now he is choosing to ignore me as all the rest did the moment I was banished.

“Alpha Nixon?” I ask, wanting to break the silence.

He looks up, a pair of midnight blue eyes meeting mine. I heard his mate is beautiful, a great piano player, and a sweetheart. Yet we all put on a mask.

“I was wondering if I could ask you a question regarding a name? I do not know if you would know this female.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t mind. What’s her name?”

“How long have you known the King?” I ask, watching as he raises an eyebrow.

He turns his laptop off. “Eight years.”

“Did you....did you know the name of his mate? The one before me? The one he ended up rejecting?”

I’ve done it.

I’ve pushed away common sense.

I’ve allowed myself to dig my grave deeper.

“Didn’t he tell you?”

I nod to signal yes.

“Did you believe his answer? Because trust is one hell of a thing in relationships.”

There’s the trust speech again. The trust speech about how I should trust this person before I even marry them. He tells me what I already know.

“If you doubt his answer, you doubt your relationship and where it is heading.”

I thank the Alpha.

I can’t even recall his proposal speech. Yes, I heard enough to know what was going, but the whole time his mouth was moving, I could not concentrate on a single word he said, but rather what was going on.

Zion declares that he loves me, and I’ve said the same. I said I loved him just as much as he loves me. But once Trent came along and put doubt into my head, the whole thing has gone South.

Very South, for I now sit in a car with no clue if this man even wants to marry me anymore. We do not even sit inside the same car. This is horrible.

Closing my eyes, I listen to the sound of cars passing bye as Nixon types away upon his laptop. I got us the name we needed. I got a name I needed. I want to know who Lillian was, even Quinn. They both existed and were warriors, telling me someone has told the truth here. I can’t go and search public records, for no one even knew the King had found his mate. The whole Kingdom believes that I am his mate because they never heard of his true one.

His parents are both dead, no siblings, and I doubt any nobles really knew who this girl was. The Alpha of the warriors of the palace would know, but I know he would not dare tell a soul. Probably because of some crazy oath Zion made him take. So, what makes me think this rogue will know? I honestly don’t think he will, but he will know who killed my parents. Rogues have a way of knowing who ordered what deaths.

Rogues, many of them are in some weird cult, where they just know all the information people would pay money for. I bet many of the ring leaders hold secrets about the Alpha Kings in the past that could ruin the Kings’ reputations.

As the sun begins to set and we arrive at another five-star hotel in Miami, I’m ready to give Zion a piece of my mind. About how I truly just want to know who is telling the truth.

As we check in, I don’t feel his eyes on me at all, but a bitter atmosphere as we enter the elevator. Given my own room, I know I’ve really changed our status as we head up. Zion’s room is even two floors up and on the opposite side. This means he’s pissed. This means he’s trying to keep his wolf at bay and not tear my into pieces.

“Mam.”

I remember where I am, how I’m at my room, the lobby boy putting my luggage in. “Thank you,” I reply, tipping the male as he goes off. Nice to see a smiling face for a change, even if forced due to work.

Right away I settle in, sliding under the covers after being changed into a pair of pajama shorts and tank top. “Goddess what have I done.”

In an hour I’ve become bored with the TV and call up room service. With a tray of soup, steak, and ice cream, I’m set for the night, deciding to just watch some reality TV to clear my mind. “Zion what are you doing to me.”

Another three hours and In laying upside down on the couch, looking out at the beach from the window. I’m not even tired. I’m not hungry. I’m not anything really except for mad. Not mad at anyone but myself. Mad that I could not give him an answer. Mad that I doubted him. Mad that I may have lost trust. Mad that I’ve ruined something I truly loved.

Maybe ruined isn’t the proper term, but it’s close.

By one in the morning Alpha Nixon has informed me that we will be visiting a upscale restaurant tomorrow for lunch to meet with Arthur. The teams of tech that Zion hired to contact Arthur were able to set up a meeting with him tomorrow. Not just that, but after asking Nixon for Arthur’s number, I got it.

So here I sit, looking at the room phone, the number memorized in my head.

If I call, I may get my answers. If I never call, I will never find out.

A shaking hand reaches out.

My heart beats fast.

My palms sweat.

My legs shake.

I type in the first five digits.

I type in the rest.

Two rings.

“Yes?”

“Arthur?” My voice is shaky, cracking as I say his name.

“What can I do for you?” He asks, already frustrated with my call.

“My name is Sybil Black.”

Silence.

Did he hang up?

Was my full name too much.

“I want you at Paradise, a night club in Miami, in one hour. No less. No later. You don’t show up on time and you’ll never see me again for a private word. Get here.”

He’s gone.

I place the phone down, knowing already what I have to do.

A dress?

Check, Marisa’s packing turned out to be helpful after all.

I pull my hair back, sliding on a pair of pumps as I take in a deep breath.

I’ve called a cab soon, told that he’ll be here to pick me up in three minutes.

As I grab what is left of my Sanskrit and common sense, I head out the door, rushing to the elevator as my heart pounds within my chest.

Somethings could go horribly wrong. Somethings could go right.

But one thing is certain: I’m dumb.

As I hop into the can and say the club’s name, all I can focus on are my parents. On their smiles. On their laughs. On even the times they scolded me.

I need to know what happened to the people who raised me.

As the cab pulls away and I look back to the lobby of the massive hotel, my skin lakes.

Zion stands there, arms crossed, dressed in pajama bottoms as a robe.

He’s pissed now.

He’s mad.

He’s angered.

He will come after me, I know it.

But I only pray to the moon goddess he will not find me till I return.

Looking back to the streets of Miami, I know one thing will happen tonight: I’m going to get my answers.

One way or another, I know I will.