Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 35

I sat up in my bed for ages, staring at the door. My ears strained for the slightest hint of oncoming footsteps, for any signs of Azriel's approach.

My stomach was a mess of knots, and if that intense waiting were to drag on any longer, I would surely throw up Raina's strawberry tart. What would I say to Azriel when he came in? What would he say? Was I forgiven for what I'd done, or would we talk about that, too?

I shuddered. My eyelids felt heavy, and my body still ached from my sudden surge of panic. I wanted to sleep. I didn't want to debate the Alpha's forgiveness, or a thing about anyone, for that matter.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. I shot upright, my gut twisting as I prepared for the worst.

"Come in...!" I quavered, dreading whoever stood behind that door. Slowly, the wood creaked open, and I prepared myself for the piercing gaze of azure eyes.

Instead, I was met with a pair of emeralds, an undeniable light of concern within them. As they honed in on me, they flooded in relief, a small smile meeting the man's pink lips. His long auburn hair glinted in the light, a contrast to the black suit and dress pants he wore.

"Zion?" I muttered quietly. He nodded, and it took me a moment to realize he hadn't scolded me for not using his proper title. Okay, something's up.

With haste, the man closed the distance between us. Shock leveled through me as the male approached my bedside.

"Are you okay, Ky—" he paused, throat bobbing. "Epsilon?"

I nodded. As though things couldn't get any weirder, Zion extended his hand, palpating the skin on my forehead. The back of his hand felt warm and soft, and part of me felt dizzy when he finally took it away.

We sat in silence for a few moments. Zion wrung his hands, his emerald gaze darting wildly about the room, all the while avoiding mine. It took me a moment to recognize the emotion in his eye to be nervousness.

The realization made me still, but I didn't have much time to mull over it as he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry for coming in here so harshly the other day," he muttered. "I didn't mean— I didn't think—"

He fell silent, a soft frown crumpling his features. Shame burned away in his gaze as he stared at the floor. Though I was shocked by Zion's behavior, I was even more shocked by my own when I reached out and grabbed his arm. His gaze snapped to mine, his face mirroring mine.

"It wasn't your fault," I mumbled, holding his gaze. "You were just trying to lift me out that state. You were just trying to do what you thought was right. I see that now."

The male's throat bobbed. His eyes were full of an emotion I couldn't quite decipher, but before I could, he looked down. Abruptly, he jerked his arm and turned away, and for a fleeting moment, I worried that I'd upset him.

"Azriel will be here soon," he muttered, striding towards the door. His voice was deadpan, cold, and it had me wondering if I'd simply imagined all those emotions passing through his gaze. "He wishes to speak with you."

In haste, he wound out the door and shut it fast behind him. I swallowed. Had I'd upset him? But if I'd done something to make him mad, he'd surely have let me know, right? What he'd done was very unlike him.

I didn't have much time to ponder, though, for just mere moments later another knock sounded at the door -- and this one sounded more authoritative.

Shit.