Chapter 83 Chapter 83. Zephyr’s Night of Dread
If anything happened to Zoria because of him, he knew he would hate himself beyond measure.
Every minute, every second dragged by. Zephyr sat in the living room, one cigarette after another burning down between his fingers. The floor was littered with cigarette butts. He stared at the ground, feeling as though his heart had been torn in two; even breathing hurt.
A servant brought over a glass of water and set it in front of him. Unable to help herself, she sighed softly and tried to comfort him. “Alpha, you love Luna so much. She’ll be fine. She really will.”
Hearing those words, Zephyr felt dizzy, as if he were carsick. Even the floor blurred before his eyes. Slowly, he bent forward and clutched his head, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably. The longer time dragged on, the more panic set in; his hands and feet turned icy cold, the warmth steadily draining away.
The image of Zoria lying motionless on the bed, barely breathing, replayed over and over in his mind. Her breaths had been thin and fragile, her body growing colder by the second. No matter how tightly he held her, he couldn’t warm her up. This was the first time he had ever seen Zoria bleed so much.
“Do I really love her?” Zephyr asked hoarsely.
The question tasted bitter. If he truly loved Zoria, he should have cherished her, held her gently in the palm of his hand, protected and respected her the way he once had Faye. But no. All he had ever given her was pain.
The servant spoke again, her voice low. “I’ve seen everything. Alpha, you truly do love Luna. Your eyes don’t lie. But…” She sighed once more. “Maybe you used the wrong way.”
After caring for Zoria for a month, she had noticed how heavy Zoria’s heart always seemed. Later, she overheard that Zoria had been locked up by Alpha. Being confined like that, even someone healthy would eventually suffer psychologically. But she was only a servant. No matter how much she pitied Zoria, she didn’t dare defy Alpha.
Zephyr lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot. Bracing himself against the back of the sofa, he stood and walked out onto the balcony, staring into the distance. “She lost two children before this,” he said. “Both of them… I was the one who killed them.”
He murmured the words, not knowing whether he was speaking to himself or to the servant. Zephyr had always run from the truth. He had convinced himself that half the blame for the children’s deaths lay with Zoria, then pushed all the responsibility onto her, using coldness to cover up and avoid his own guilt.
And there was another reason, too. He was afraid that once he admitted his sins, he would no longer have any excuse—or the face—to keep Zoria imprisoned by his side.
…
No one knew how much time passed before there was finally some movement in the bedroom. Zephyr staggered over at once.
“How is she?”
After hours of nonstop focus, Dr. Luke looked exhausted. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
“Alpha, there are a few things I need to tell you. I only hope that after hearing them, you won’t take your anger out on Ms. Zoria.”
“Ms. Zoria took medication to induce the miscarriage, and she already knew she was pregnant.”
Zephyr’s brows knit together, his expression turning rigid. A bone-chilling cold spread from the top of his head all the way down to his heels. He stood there for a long time before he could react.
Zoria took medicine to get rid of the baby? Hadn’t she always risked her life to protect her children before? How had things ended up like this?
Zephyr realized that everything had begun to slip out of his control, veering rapidly off its original course.
Dr. Luke sighed. “All right. You can go see her now. Ms. Zoria is out of danger. But remember—no sexual activity for the next three months.”
Zephyr didn’t know how he was supposed to face Zoria after she woke up, especially when she questioned him. He could almost see it already: her dark, icy gaze. Just imagining it was enough to fill him with fear.
He forced himself to think about how he and Zoria should live together from now on—how to stop them from hurting each other until there was nothing left.
Zephyr rubbed his aching temples and stepped into the room. Zoria lay on the bed, her body covered with a thin blanket. Her face was deathly pale, and her lower lip had been bitten open, tiny specks of blood seeping through the torn skin.
Zephyr sat down on the edge of the bed and took Zoria’s icy hand in his, frowning as he looked at her. He did not know when it had begun, but bit by bit, Zoria had carved herself deep into his soul.
Her smile—when she was sulking, when she was sad—every expression rose vividly before his eyes, as if they were being etched straight into his heart. He vaguely remembered many years ago, the first time he met Zoria. That was also the moment his heart had stirred. Back then, he had already fallen for her, yet in the end, everything had been buried beneath hatred.
Zephyr watched over Zoria like that for the entire night.
……
The moment Zoria opened her eyes, she saw a streak of golden light. For an instant, she thought she had reached heaven. But as soon as she tried to move, a heavy pain surged up from her lower abdomen, reminding her that she was not dead yet.
The golden streak was nothing more than the morning sun filtering through the window.
Zephyr’s eyes widened slightly. Seeing Zoria awake, an urge suddenly rose in him to pull her into his arms. He held himself back and remained seated in the chair, his voice hoarse as he asked, “Zoria… you’re finally awake.”
“So I’m not dead after all.” Her voice was laced with mockery.
Having stayed up all night, Zephyr felt a sharp sting in his eyes. He clenched the medicine bottle in his hand, held it out in front of Zoria, and asked, “What is this?”
Dr. Luke had said Zoria miscarried because she had taken abortion pills. Zephyr remembered that the last time Zoria went out, she had stopped by a pharmacy. He had seen the box and thought it was vitamins. He had meant to ask her about it, but somehow, he had forgotten.