::::::::::Knocked Out Cold For How Long?::::::::::

The engine of the car rumbled itself to silence as Darius pulled into the long driveway of one of his estates. Snow drifted down in heavy, wet flakes, clinging to the hood of the sleek Winston Carriage and frosting the stone steps that led to his front door.

For a long moment, he didn’t move or exit from the car. He just sat in the driver’s seat with one hand gripping the wheel loosely. He stared ahead, catching the faint glow that penetrated from the windows of the big house through the snow.

And somewhere in that house, Wayne lay weakly like he'd never wake. With his surroundings unknown to him and his mind still fighting his pain.

Darius worked his jaw, as though he was caught between restraint and the urge to snap. He hated the quiet hesitation he drowned himself in, the way his heart thudded harder and louder the longer he lingered there. He was both terrified and excited, like a teenager daring to do what he was told not to do.

At last, with a curt exhale, he shoved the door op