Extra Chapter 02

ZION

Just as the silence thickened between us, the kitchen door creaked open.

"Zion?" Mum's voice was soft but steady as she stepped into the sitting room, holding a tray with two steaming mugs.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw Annabell with her gun still raised, tension crackling in the air. "Whoa! What's going on here?"

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment still heavy on my chest. "Mom, this is Annabell."

Mum's gaze softened as she looked between us. "Annabell. It's... good to finally meet you."

Annabell lowered the gun fully but kept her guard up. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

Mum gave her a small, knowing smile. "Maybe not. But Zion's no stranger to complicated."

She set the tray down and poured the drinks. "Let's all sit and talk."

The tension didn't vanish, but with Mom here, I felt a fragile hope that maybe this mess could somehow be untangled.

…

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to show how uneasy I was. Which was ironic, considering that there was a literal gun pointed at me two minutes ago.

Annabell stood stiffly in the middle of the sitting room, her jaw clenched so tight I could practically hear her teeth grinding. Her stunning blue eyes flicked from me to Mum, then back again.

"I’m not staying here," she hissed. "You're not dragging me into some domestic fairytale. I just came to—"

"Wave a gun at me?" I offered, flashing her a half-smile. "Always knew you had a thing for dramatic entrances."

She glared. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under, resurrected, and dead again.

Mum cleared her throat gently, like she was trying not to laugh but also didn't want to get shot. "Annabell, dear. You're carrying my grandchild. The least you can do is let me make you tea before you storm out."

"I don't want tea."

"You'll take it anyway," Mum said, placing the mug in front of her. "Helps with nerves."

Annabell stared at the mug like it had personally insulted her. I bit back a laugh.

Mum turned to look at me. "Zion, don't just stand there looking stupid. Sit."

"I always look stupid when it comes to her,” I mumbled, dropping onto the couch.

Annabell hesitated for a long second, as if the chair would explode if she touched it. But eventually, she sat down, perched on the edge. She was still tense, as if she might spring up and bolt any second.

"I didn't come here for this," she muttered.

"What did you come here for?" I asked softly, leaning forward.

Her eyes darted over to mine, and for a second, something cracked in them—fear, anger, maybe a little heartbreak. "I don't know. Closure. Revenge. Both?"

I winced.

She stood suddenly, "Don't say it. Don't you dare say anything sweet or, worse, 'romantic'."

I smirked despite myself. "So you do think I'm capable of romance."

She groaned and aimed a finger—not the gun, thank the heavens—at me. "You're insufferable."

"I've been called worse. Usually by exes. Or cops. Or both."

Mum took a sip of her tea, unbothered. "Honestly, I like her. She might be the only one who can put up with you."

Annabell froze again, her hands twitching slightly. And then, unexpectedly, she sat back down. She slumped a little, exhausted.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I reached out, my hand hovering over hers, not quite touching. "Then stay. Just for now. Let's figure it out together. No pressure. No pretending."

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smirk. "You’re still annoying."

"And you're still gorgeous, even when you're pissed."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn't walk out. Not yet.

Mum leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Now drink your tea before it gets cold. And if either of you causes drama in here again, I will use the rolling pin."

Annabell raised a brow at that. "Is she always like this?"

I grinned. "Worse. Welcome to the family."

…

Later, after Mum left to give us space, Annabell sat across from me, her arms crossed.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" She snapped, though her voice barely masked a hint of frustration.

I grinned, leaning back. "Oh? What now? You think I did this on purpose?"

She glared, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Don't act so smug. You weren't exactly just chasing me, remember? I was running from you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Running, huh? Am I really that terrible? I’m really not a bad guy."

Annabell sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, her eyes suddenly vulnerable. “Look, I didn't mean to mess your life up. But now... this kid—"

Her voice cracked for a moment, then she snapped it shut. "Whatever. Don't get any ideas."

I reached for her and lightly brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "No ideas. Just... we'll figure it out. Together."

Her lips twitched in a reluctant smile. "Yeah, maybe."

She looked away, biting her lip, but I could see the flicker of softness in her eyes. "Don't think this changes anything between us," she murmured.

I leaned forward, closing the distance, my fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. "Maybe it changes everything."

Annabell's breath hitched. Her usual defiant fire softened, and I saw her uncertainty. I saw the walls she'd built starting to crumble. I brushed my thumb across her lips and leaned in slowly.

Our lips met in a kiss that was both hesitant and hungry, a collision of years of chase and denial wrapped in raw desire. She pressed closer, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me deeper. I tasted the spice of her and the heat that had always haunted my dreams.

When we finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "Don't think that this means I'm giving up," she murmured, but I caught the slight smile threatening to break through.

I grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Her fingers lingered on my chest, over the fabric of my shirt, as if testing the reality of me standing here. I watched her mouth, and every inch of me buzzed with the ache to claim it again.

"I was drunk," she whispered suddenly, as if she needed to defend us.

"So was I," I said softly. "I still remember the way your mouth tasted, though. So no regrets."

She rolled her eyes. "Goddamnit, you're insufferable."

"You're still here."

Her glare flickered, that hot-blooded glare I knew so well. But then she sighed, and it melted into something more fragile. "I ran because I was scared."

I nodded, resting my forehead against hers. "You think I wasn't? You're the first thing I've ever wanted for myself. Not because of bloodlines, fate, or prophecy. Just... you."

She didn't answer. Her breath mingled with mine, and I could feel the beat of her heart. It was wild, just like mine. Her body pressed against me, and I couldn't help the groan that slipped out when she fit perfectly into me, like she always had.

My hands slid to her hips. "You've been in my dreams every night since you disappeared. You haunted me, Annabell. And now you're here... still pissed, still dangerous, and still the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

She smirked, a hint of smug satisfaction flaring. "And you got me pregnant, dumbass."

I let out a low laugh. "Guess I wanted to make sure you'd come back."

Her fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, her nails grazing my skin. I hissed softly.

"I should still shoot you," she murmured, her lips ghosting my jaw.

"Do it after," I rasped, capturing her mouth again, this time slower, deeper.

She responded with a growl, her hands running down my chest, exploring boldly and possessively.

And when we broke for air, both of us breathless, her eyes were glossy and feral.

"This doesn't mean I'm staying," she said.

"I know."

"But I might stay for tonight."

I grinned. "That's all I need."

She was here. In my arms. And for the first time in what felt like lifetimes, I wasn't chasing a ghost.

She was mine.

And I planned to stay by her side for as long as possible.

…..

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