CHAPTER 324

CHAPTER 324
WINTER

Harry’s voice came out low and gravel-rough, edged with something close to fury.

“I’m going for a swim. It’s fucking suffocating in here.”

He didn’t wait for anyone to respond—just shoved off the counter and stalked toward the back door.

Zion’s head tilted, eyes narrowing.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Harry froze mid-step.

Turned just enough to shoot Zion a look that could’ve stripped paint.

“Nothing’s fucking wrong,” he bit out, each word clipped and venomous.

“Or do I need your goddamn permission to go swimming now?”

Zion didn’t blink.

Just stared back—hard, unyielding—jaw ticking like he was chewing on a dozen things he wanted to say but wouldn’t.

Harry held the glare for another beat, then snorted once—bitter, dismissive—and slammed out the kitchen door.

The bang echoed through the house like a gunshot.

Ariel’s eyes flicked to the closing door—wide, startled, almost panicked—then she let out a shaky exhale that sounded too loud in the sudden silence.

“I’ll… go grab my bag and leave,” she said, voice small.

“Ariel—” I started, reaching out instinctively.

She shook her head fast, already sliding off the stool.

“I’ll just Uber.”

Ro set his coffee down with a deliberate clink.

“The fuck you will,” he said, voice flat and final—no negotiation.

He stood, broad shoulders rolling like he was shaking off the tension, and followed Harry’s path out the door without another word.

Ariel stared after him for a long second—eyes glassy, lashes wet at the corners—then exhaled again, shakier this time.

“Thanks for having me…”

She tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders like it was the only thing holding her together, then disappeared up the stairs.

Claire watched her go, arms crossed, brow furrowed.

“What the hell was that?”

Zion’s arm tightened around my waist—protective, grounding, but I could feel the confusion humming through him too.

“I have no fucking idea,” he muttered.

My eyes kept darting between the back door, the stairs, the empty spot where Ariel had been.

“What happened last night when we weren’t here?” I asked.

Claire shrugged, helpless.

“I don’t know. They were fine when we went to bed. Laughing. Drinking. Normal shit..." She trailed off.

Clark leaned back against the island, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well,” he said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes,

“on the bright side, at least the headboard drama is over. Now we’ve upgraded to full-on domestic implosion. Who needs reality TV when we’ve got front-row seats to whatever the hell this is?”

No one laughed.

Clark cleared his throat—

“Uh… anyone want more bacon?” he tried, holding up the plate like it was a white flag.

No one moved.

No one even looked at him.

My stomach twisted.

Harry’s face kept replaying in my head—the way his jaw had locked, the venom in his voice, the slam of the door that still echoed in my bones.

I’d never seen him like that.

Furious.

Shattered.

Like something inside him had snapped clean in half overnight.

He was in love with Ariel right?

Had been for months—maybe longer.

Everyone knew it, even if no one said it out loud.

The way he looked at her, the way he always ended up in her orbit… it was obvious.

So what the actual fuck happened between last night and this morning?

Claire let out a long, worried sigh.

“They’ll figure it out,” she said quietly, almost like she was trying to convince herself more than us.

“We’ll be fucking here,” Zion said.

“When they’re ready.”

I nodded into his chest, swallowing hard.

The cedar-smoke scent of him grounded me, but it didn’t erase the knot in my gut.

Clark shifted his weight, plate still dangling uselessly in his hand.

He opened his mouth again—like he couldn’t stand the quiet for one more second.

“So… eggs? Coffee refill? Anything to—”

Zion’s head snapped up. His voice cut through sharp and cold.

“Shut the fuck up, Clark.”

Clark’s mouth snapped shut so fast his teeth clicked.

The kitchen went quieter than before—if that was even possible.

I leaned into Zion, ring catching the light again, and smiled through the lingering ache in my chest.

We’d survived worse.

We’d survived everything.

And whatever was coming for Ariel and Harry… they’d survive it too.

Because they weren’t alone.

They had us.

They had family.

And family doesn’t let go.

Not now.

Not ever.

Forever.

...

The bedroom door clicked shut behind us, softer than it should have felt—like the house itself was holding its breath.

The hallway noise faded instantly:

Just us now.

Zion flicked the lock without a word, then turned to me.

His eyes were still that dark, steady gray—watching me like he could see every tangled thought I was trying to hide.

I stood there in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around myself even though I wasn’t cold.

The sheets were still wrecked from last night—twisted, pillows shoved to one side, the faint scent of us lingering in the air.

It should have felt comforting.

Safe. Instead it made my chest ache harder.

He stepped closer, slow, like he was giving me space to bolt if I wanted to. I didn’t.

“You’re still thinking about them,” he said.

I nodded, swallowing.

“I can’t stop. Harry looked… destroyed. I’ve never seen him like that. And Ariel—she was shaking when she left. Like she was holding herself together with string.”

Zion exhaled through his nose, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off my cheek. His fingers lingered, warm against my skin.

“We were up here,” I whispered.

“While whatever happened… happened. We were in our own little world—laughing, touching, fucking like nothing else existed. And downstairs they were falling apart.”

His thumb traced the line of my jaw, gentle but firm, tilting my face up so I had to meet his eyes.

“Snowflake.” His voice was low, rough around the edges the way it got when he was trying not to push too hard.

“We didn’t cause it. We didn’t know.”

“I know.” My throat felt tight.

“But I keep replaying it. The way Harry slammed that door. The way Ariel wouldn’t look at anyone. What if they needed us? What if we missed something big because we were too wrapped up in each other?”

Zion’s hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair.

He tugged me forward until my forehead rested against his chest.

I could hear his heartbeat—steady, unhurried, the opposite of mine.

“You think too much sometimes,” he murmured into my hair.

“You always have.”

I let out a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob.

“I cant help it.”

“I know.” He pulled back just enough to look at me again, eyes searching mine.

“But right now, you’re only allowed to be here. With me. Just us.”

I wanted to argue.

Wanted to say that Harry was his cousin, that Ariel had been my confidante for months, that we couldn’t just pretend the house wasn’t cracking open downstairs.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead I leaned into him, arms sliding around his waist, face pressing into the warm hollow of his throat.

His arms closed around me—tight, possessive, the way they always did when he was trying to shield me from my own head.

“We’ll talk to them,” he said quietly.

“When they’re ready. But I’m not letting you drown in guilt over something we didn’t see coming.”

I nodded against his skin, eyes stinging.

He kissed the top of my head—slow, lingering—then tilted my chin up again.

“Look at me.”

I did.

“Last night?” His voice dropped, velvet and rough at once.

“That wasn’t just us being selfish. That was us being alive. Being together. And I’m not sorry for a single second of it.”

He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, eyes darkening.

“So if you’re gonna worry about anything right now…” A small, wicked curve touched his mouth.

“Worry about how many times I can make you forget your own name before the sun comes up again.”

Heat rushed through me—sharp, sudden, chasing away some of the cold knot in my chest.

I huffed a small, watery laugh.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And it's all yoir fault” He leaned down, lips brushing mine—soft at first, then deeper, claiming.

“Let me keep you here a little longer. Just us.”

I nodded and turned toward the bed, arms wrapped around myself, already opening my mouth to say something stupid like..

He spun me gently, backing me against the door until my shoulders hit the wood.

His body crowded mine—not rough, just inevitable. Warm. Solid. The cedar-and-smoke scent of him wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t deserve.

“We made a deal before going down for breakfast,” he said, voice low and deliberate.

I swallowed.

“Wouldn’t that be… I mean, with Harry and Ariel—”

He cut me off with a finger pressed to my lips. Firm. Patient.

“I know my cousin better than he knows himself right now.” Zion’s thumb traced the edge of my mouth—slow, deliberate, like he was mapping every millimeter of my worry and trying to smooth it away with just that touch. His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and steady, the kind of steady that made the chaos in my head feel smaller.
“He’s blowing off steam the only way he knows how—alone, pissed, in the water until his muscles scream and his head finally quiets.” He paused, jaw working once like he was chewing on the next words. “He won’t be back for hours. Maybe not till dark.”

I searched his face, the knot in my chest loosening just a fraction.

“You’re really not worried?”
Zion’s hand slid to cup the side of my neck, fingers warm against my pulse. “I love him like a brother, Snowflake. Always have. That’s why I’m not chasing him down right now—he’d only bite harder if I did. But when he’s ready to talk?” His voice dropped, rough with quiet promise.

“I will fucking talk to him. I’ll sit his stubborn ass down and drag every word out if I have to. He knows that. He knows I’m not going anywhere.”

Zion tilted my chin up again, thumb resuming its slow path along my lower lip.

“Now…” That wicked half-smile crept back, the one that always made my stomach flip.

“About that deal we made.”

Heat bloomed low and fast, chasing the last of the cold worry out of my veins.

I smiled—small, real, a little breathless.

“Yeah. About that.”

He didn’t waste another second.

His mouth crashed down on mine—hungry, claiming, all the tenderness from a moment ago sharpening into something darker, hotter.

He stepped back just enough to yank his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.

The fabric hit the floor.

Then his hands went to his belt—buckle clinking open, zipper dragging down with deliberate slowness.

I watched the flex of his forearms, the way the muscles in his stomach shifted as he shoved the jeans past his hips.

No underwear.

Of course not.

He kicked everything aside and stood there, bare and unapologetic, already hard for me.

My breath caught.

His mouth hovered over mine, not quite touching, teasing.

“You let me have you again. Slow this time. Deep. Until you forget how to worry.”

I swallowed hard, thighs pressing together on instinct.

His other hand caught my wrist, guiding my palm flat against the hard plane of his stomach—skin hot, muscles flexing under my fingers as he tugged the belt free and let his jeans ride dangerously low on his hips.

“Still worried, Snowflake?” he murmured, lips finally brushing mine—just a graze, enough to make me chase him.

I shook my head, small and helpless.

“Not right now.”

“Fuck.”

He walked me backward without breaking the kiss, hands roaming, peeling my shirt up and off like it offended him.

Cool air hit my skin, then his mouth—hot, open, trailing down my throat, across my collarbone, lower.

I gasped when the backs of my knees hit the mattress.

He didn’t push me down.

Not yet.

Instead he paused, forehead resting against mine, breathing hard, eyes dark and burning.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he said, even though we both knew I wouldn’t.

I slid my hands down his chest, nails dragging lightly, feeling him shudder.

“Shut up and keep your promise,” I whispered.

His laugh was low, filthy, triumphant.

Then he was moving—pushing me back onto the bed, following me down, weight pinning me exactly right.

His mouth found mine again, hungrier this time, and his hand slid between us, fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts.

Downstairs could wait.

Harry could swim until the ocean ran dry.

Ariel could hide behind her blanket.
Right now, in this locked room, with Zion’s body covering mine and his voice rough in my ear promising every filthy thing we’d agreed to…
The world narrowed to heat.

To touch.

To the slow, deliberate roll of his hips as he pressed himself against me, already hard, already ready.

And the last coherent thought I had before he made good on every word—
—was that maybe, just maybe,
he was right

I could forget how to worry.

At least until the sun came down.