Chapter 63 Chapter 63. Zephyr Confronts the Petition
Zephyr held Zoria and offered Lysander a brief word of thanks, his tone so cold it carried no sincerity at all. Lysander did not care. He turned and got back into his car.
But when his gaze settled on Zephyr’s retreating figure, the smile on his face vanished at once. Whatever Zephyr cared about, he always felt an urge to snatch it away—if only to toy with it and vent his irritation.
Suddenly remembering something, he looked down at his clothes and saw that they were indeed stained.
Annoyed, Lysander pulled out a few tissues and wiped himself carefully. He had a mild case of cleanliness obsession, yet earlier, when he had held that filthy Zoria, he had completely forgotten about it.
Zephyr carried Zoria back to the car and used tissues to gently wipe each tear in her skin, each place where blood seeped out. Zoria’s body was icy cold, like a block of ice. The heater in the car was turned up to the maximum, yet she was still shivering uncontrollably.
Zephyr did not dare to hold her tightly, afraid of touching her wounds. Zoria’s clothes were soaked through and could not be put back on, and there was no spare coat in the car. All Zephyr could do was hold her very lightly, grasp her freezing hand, and rub it slowly, trying to pass some warmth to her. But the faint scent of Omega still spread through the air, mingling with the smell of blood and making the space inside the car stifling and uncomfortable.
“Drive to the hospital.”
The driver did not need to be told twice and immediately turned the wheel. Zoria had not been discharged from the hospital for long before she had to return again, her body once more covered in blood. Even the driver felt a pang of sympathy for her.
Zoria had not fainted. She simply did not want to open her eyes and look at Zephyr’s detestable face.
Zephyr said, “Stop pretending to be unconscious. Open your eyes.”
Her long lashes fluttered twice, but she still did not open them. Zoria’s voice was hoarse as she replied, “I don’t want to see you.”
Zephyr did not get angry. “Zoria, were you actually trying to get yourself killed just now?”
When she had been thrown out of the car, there had been no fear in Zoria’s eyes, no panic—only a strange sense of relief, quiet and still like the surface of a dead lake. Even now, thinking back on it made a chill crawl up Zephyr’s spine.
Zoria stayed silent, which was as good as an admission. Irritation flared inside Zephyr, but faced with Zoria’s ashen, lifeless expression, he found himself helpless, not knowing what else he could do.
He grabbed her chin and forced her to open her eyes with a painful grip. Zoria looked at him, her voice icy. “Zephyr, I already told you. Either we cut the bond, or I die.”
Killing intent spilled from Zephyr’s gaze. “Zoria, aren’t you afraid I’ll dig up your father’s grave and make sure he doesn’t rest in peace even after death?”
Zoria froze for a split second, and Zephyr thought she might finally back down. But then she spoke, her tone so calm it was terrifying. “If I die, I won’t let you rest either.”
Zephyr’s throat tightened. Zoria had clearly decided to drag him down with her. This was the madness of someone who had nothing left to lose.
Had Zoria truly stopped caring about anyone at all, or was she just pretending?
“Zoria, aren’t you afraid I’ll deal with your mother and Evander?”
Zephyr did not believe it. He refused to believe there was nothing left he could use to threaten her. Zoria looked at him, the corner of her lips lifting into a half-smile—the exact same kind of smile Zephyr used to mock her stupidity.
“Zephyr, do you really think I’m some kind of saint?”
Zephyr stiffened, then heard Zoria continue in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Even if you rape me now, even if you torment me like a whore, that still doesn’t mean I have to be a saint. I’m not interested in saving anyone.”
Zoria hated Zephyr just as much as she loathed herself. Calling herself a whore was a form of self-humiliation Zephyr had never heard from her before.
Zephyr ground his teeth. His chest felt like it was being pricked by needles—not sharp enough to truly hurt, but more than enough to leave him irritated and restless.
“Don’t talk like that. Don’t insult yourself.” Zephyr forced his voice to stay low. “No matter what, you’re still my mate.”
If this had been a year ago, hearing those words from Zephyr might have made Zoria happy. Now, all she felt was naked humiliation and biting irony.
Zoria laughed coldly. “What’s the difference?”
As long as she was kept by Zephyr’s side, it was no different from being locked up as his toy.
Ignoring the redness in Zoria’s eyes, Zephyr said calmly, “At the very least, I’ll give you respect.”
Respect? Zoria was momentarily confused. The word felt so foreign it almost made her laugh. Had Zephyr ever respected her?
“Zephyr, I’ve been by your side for all these years. Have you ever respected me?”
Zephyr was left speechless. Zoria spoke again, her voice bitter and cold. “Now you want to give me respect? I don’t need it. I don’t want it. If you insist on forcing me to stay with you, then just wait and keep a corpse!”
It was as if something exploded in Zephyr’s ears.
Zoria truly wanted to leave him. She was not afraid to use death as a threat. But Zephyr would not let her get what she wanted.
……
After taking Zoria to the hospital to have her wounds treated, Zephyr immediately received news that she had filed a petition with the court, requesting the termination of her bond with him.
So fast. Zephyr clenched his phone, the veins in his arm twitching violently.
When Zephyr walked in with a cold expression, Zoria glanced at the phone in his hand and instantly understood why.
It seemed Evander had already found an advocate to file for a unilateral bond termination on her behalf.
Faced with Zephyr’s dark, oppressive gaze, Zoria trembled slightly. Her fear of him was carved deep into her bones.