"Baby... what am I supposed to do?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to you..."
A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye as he buried his face in his palm. In that moment, all his power, all his pride, everything, crumbled, leaving only a man terrified of losing the woman he loved all over again.
Just the thought of it was enough to send him spiraling. Zion had never feared anything in his life; nothing could shake him. But the moment he imagined their hidden enemies finally succeeding in killing Addison, something inside him shattered.
He didn’t fear his own death, not even a little. But hers? The idea alone made his entire being tremble. His insides felt hollow, shaking uncontrollably as dread lodged itself deep in his chest.
Earlier, when he was racing through the forest to get her medical help, fear couldn’t touch him. All he could do was run, run as fast as his body allowed. That urgency had been his only focus, his drive, something strong enough to push everything else aside.
But now... now that he was alone in this quiet room with her fragile, unconscious form, everything he had forced down came crashing over him like a violent wave.
The fear he suppressed.
The panic he buried.
The emotions he refused to feel while she was hurting and needed him to be steady.
All of it was suffocating him.
Zion wasn’t the type who cried easily; he could barely remember the last time he shed tears. But right now, he couldn’t stop them. They burned at the corners of his eyes and spilled despite his attempts to hold them back.
He didn’t want her in danger. He didn’t want her hurting. And mixed with that overwhelming fear was guilt, thick, suffocating guilt, and the tormenting weight of a thousand what ifs clawing at his mind.
What if he had taken her pain seriously last night instead of trying to distract her? What if, instead of brushing it off, he had brought her back to the pack for medical attention? The thought twisted inside him.
But then again... if he had brought Addison back last night, wouldn’t that have placed her in even greater danger? If Greg had discovered she was there, would he have stopped toying with Levi’s life and focused all his forces on reaching Addison, on killing her?
What then?
What would he have done if Greg had gone after her directly?
"Baby, I feel like I’m going crazy..." Zion whispered, his voice breaking. But before the next wave of despair could crash over him, a small, soft hand suddenly reached out and squeezed his much larger one.
His head snapped up instantly, eyes widening as he stared at Addison. Tears still clung to his thick lashes as he looked at her, still asleep, yet her brows were drawn tightly together, as if she could feel every conflict tearing through his heart.
「Four hours later...」
"Here, let me help you..." Zion’s voice was hoarse, strained with worry. Addison opened her mouth, ready to roll her eyes and tell him she could manage; her hands weren’t disabled, after all, and she could still hold the glass herself. But when she caught sight of his pale, tense face, she decided to let him have his way.
Besides, she felt utterly drained, groggy as if she had just woken up from a long, disorienting dream. Her body felt battered, weighed down, like she had been tossed through countless crashing waves, each one stealing her strength.
She could only lean against Zion’s body like a boneless fish as she drank the warm water he offered. The moment it slid down her throat, she felt a spark of life return; the dryness and the burning pain in her throat eased.
"Thank you..." Addison’s voice croaked slightly, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Zion didn’t react to her shyness; instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She could feel the tension surrounding him slowly ease, though his hand around her waist tightened as if he were afraid to let her go. She didn’t resist; she had no energy to fight.
Then it hit her: she was no longer in the temporary shelter. She looked around and realized she was back in the Golden Hue Pack, in the medical ward. Her gaze drifted over the room, and memories of her dream returned, the pain ripping through her body, the cold and damp feeling as if she had been thrown into the deepest part of the ocean, and was struck repeatedly.
She had tried to call out, tried to stop it, but could only whimper helplessly. The vividness of the dream left a chill crawling over her, and she could feel cold sweat running down her back.
"How are you feeling, hmm?" Zion asked as he cradled Addison gently. He tried to hide the trembling in his body because he was still reeling from the fear and tension from earlier.
Luckily, when the nurses had tested his blood, it turned out he coincidentally shared the same AB-negative blood type as Maxwell and Levi. Because of this, Maxwell no longer needed to donate more than 2,000 cc of blood to Levi, and both of them stabilized.

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