Chapter 72 Chapter 72. Zoria’s Desperate Collision
Zoria let out a bleak laugh, trying to hold back her tears, yet her eyes were already soaked, hot tears spilling over as if they could scorch her skin. “Zephyr, I’m not a breeding tool for you!”
She screamed until her voice went hoarse, ragged with despair. Both of Zoria’s hands fisted the collar of Zephyr’s shirt, tears blurring her face.
Her eyes were bloodshot, every word she forced out thick and raw, sharp as a blade. She could already imagine the hell she would be dragged into if Zephyr forced her back—how terrifying that nightmare would be.
Zephyr looked at Zoria’s shattered expression, the amusement in his eyes deepening. He watched her reactions with interest, as if enjoying a dramatic transformation on stage.
“I know you’re not a breeding tool,” he said slowly, his tone dripping with mockery, “but you’re still my Luna.”
Each word felt like claws raking across Zoria’s nerves.
Zephyr gently stroked the ring on her ring finger. It was pitifully loose—so loose that it could slip off with the slightest touch. Over the years, Zoria had grown so thin she was little more than skin and bones; there was almost no flesh left on her fingers.
“Zoria, do you remember what I once told you?” Zephyr chuckled softly. “If you dared to cut the bond, have you already forgotten what the consequences would be?”
He had warned her before. If she dared to resist the bond between them, he would make her regret it.
Zoria lifted her gaze, despair filling her eyes to the very end. “Then you should remember what I said too. Either we cut the bond… or—”
Before she could finish, Zoria suddenly shoved Zephyr away with all her strength.
Caught off guard, Zephyr staggered backward. Just as he was about to steady himself, a dull “bang” echoed beside him.
Against the white wall, blood splattered and bloomed like a strange, bewitching red spider lily.
Zephyr’s entire body froze. It felt as though an invisible hand had clamped around his throat, stealing his breath.
Before he could think, his body had already lunged forward. Zoria’s frail form collapsed to the ground, chaos erupting instantly around them. Cries of panic rang out. “She tried to kill herself! She slammed her head into the wall!”
Zoria was still breathing. Perhaps the distance hadn’t been enough; her forehead was only split open. The old wound on her brow, which had just begun to scab over, tore open again, and blood poured out.
She felt only a sharp pain in her forehead and a dizzy heaviness in her head. She had not fainted, nor could she possibly die.
Blood streamed down over her eyelids, burning. The ring on her ring finger had fallen to the floor at some point, reflecting a cold, lifeless glint.
“Or else… you watch me die…” Zoria whispered, her voice trembling and hoarse.
Zephyr’s heart jolted violently. Only then did he realize that Zoria had not been joking at all.
Zephyr bent down and scooped her into his arms, his voice cold and merciless. “If I tie you to the bed, how are you supposed to die? Zoria, listen carefully. Even if you die, you’ll only die in my arms.”
The ring rolled across the floor, just like their relationship. At first, it had fit perfectly, snug and seamless, but over time it had grown loose. No matter how hard one tried to force it back on, it was no longer the original size.
The commotion quickly caused an uproar. Reporters rushed in from everywhere, snapping photos, publishing stories, splashing sensational headlines, determined to push the incident onto the front page.
Outside, reporters packed in tightly. Bodyguards escorted them to the car. Zoria lay weakly in Zephyr’s arms, her chest barely moving. If not for the faint breath still escaping her, one might have believed she was truly dead.
Zoria closed her eyes, her lashes trembling. She was not afraid of death. What she feared was living worse than death—living in a way that would stain daddy’s honor.
Zephyr took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the sweat from Zoria’s forehead. "Zoria, do you remember what your father once told you? He said you had to live on for him, not die and end everything. Are you really going to go against your father’s last wish and make it so he can’t even rest in peace after death?"
Zephyr let out a soft laugh, his voice dripping with malice. "Your father died because of you. He wanted you to keep living. And yet here you are, stubbornly turning his death into something meaningless. Zoria, don’t you feel even a little guilty?"
Zoria’s whole body trembled. After living together for so many years, it wasn’t just that she understood Zephyr—he understood her just as thoroughly, knowing exactly where her weaknesses lay.
Zoria opened her eyes, her dark gaze settling on Zephyr’s face. Pushed to this point, she still couldn’t die. She had to go on living in this living hell, continue enduring Zephyr’s humiliation.
Zephyr saw that look clearly and knew she would not kill herself. But he also understood that her heart would never return to what it once was. Even so, he didn’t care. As long as he could keep her by his side, he believed that sooner or later, everything could be dragged back to how it used to be.
……
News spread like wildfire online, waves of mockery and sarcasm all aimed at Zoria. But she knew nothing of it, because at that moment she was being held captive by Zephyr.
Zephyr lowered his head and looked at her. Zoria was crying miserably, her voice hoarse, her face soaked with tears. He grabbed her chin and forced her to lift her head and look at him, but when he met her eyes, he froze.
Empty. The blue of her pupils held no trace of light or spirit, exactly like the look she had worn back when she had been blind.
He waved a hand in front of her eyes. Zoria blinked and said hoarsely, "I’m not blind."