Chapter 22 #2
“If it's so exhausting, why don't you stay in the city for good? The students like having you as a teacher,” I said, fishing for information about him.
Zion looked away from the TV and turned to me. The way his gaze warmed when it met mine was intense.
“Because it's my duty. The squad needs me just like the hospital needs you. I wouldn't say things there are exhausting, just... different, and sometimes complicated. But it becomes normal, and even enjoyable on some days.”
“So you like the squad.”
He stayed motionless for a moment, staring at me as if the question were a riddle.
“I do,” he said, looking at his rough hands marked by countless small scars. “It's the only thing I truly know. Besides, people need me, so how could I not like it?”
The next question was already on the tip of my tongue: did he also enjoy what he did to my people?
The deaths and wars, killing innocents? At the last moment, I held back and just stared at the TV, remembering we'd agreed to a truce—he wasn't talking about training or the attack, and I shouldn't confront him about his work.
I let the subject dissolve like ink in water, and once again, silence settled between us.
The movie started and Zion got excited during the introduction about the wars.
Much of the story wasn’t fictional—in the past, there had been disputes between faerics and gorgons, and actual conflicts had been fought.
But this happened thousands of years ago, even before the walls were built or the five nations were officially established.
It all started when the first king of Interion officially established his reign over the central lands and founded Interian civilization.
At that time, faerics and gorgons lived together in balance, as they always had since the dawn of the world.
But the king promoted the idea that the two races should remain separate, believing faerics were superior beings who shouldn’t share their blood.
As a result, the gorgons—who feed on the blood of faerics and humans willing to give it freely in exchange for services and favors—were excluded from society.
The king claimed they were too dangerous to remain in the city, that they could lose control and kill while feeding.
And so, after widespread chaos and a near-war against the five gorgon matriarchs, the women were forced to live as nomads between the cities, cut off from their food source.
The problem is that if a gorgon doesn’t feed regularly, her hunger grows until she loses control—and at that stage, she can take too much blood and kill her supplier.
After months of exile, blood deprivation drove them to attack small villages in the forests, losing control as they fed.
This was exactly when things went wrong for the faerics, because if a medusa kills while feeding, she loses her soul and transforms into an irrational, bloodthirsty creature.
After the transformation, she’s no longer a gorgon—she becomes what’s known as a lamia.
The metamorphosis permanently deforms their bodies: their teeth elongate, impenetrable scales grow across their skin, and the lower half of their bodies transforms into a two-meter tail.
Within a few years, the immortal creatures dominated the entire continent, bringing chaos in their wake.
As the lamias multiplied, the villages were wiped out.
Soon, the five main cities came under attack, and that’s when protective walls became necessary—consolidating the five nations and marking the end of the villages.
The leaders of each nation met and decided to reintegrate the gorgons into society to prevent more of them from transforming.
They also noticed that gorgons were the only ones the lamias didn’t attack, so they became responsible for cultivating and trading food outside the nations.
As a reward, they received a neighborhood within each city, where they established trade in food, information, and services in exchange for blood.
And so, faeric and gorgon societies found balance, and things began to work.
I let my attention drift from the movie and glanced discreetly at Zion, who was focused on the screen.
During some scenes, he didn’t even blink or remember to chew—he looked like a little boy watching a movie for the first time.
I smiled at the thought of being the first person he’d done something like this with.
But the movie was winding down, and the gorgon girl reunited with the faeric boy.
The sappy music started playing, and soon the two kissed.
“Seriously? This is how the conflict ends? With a romance?” Zion grumbled, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “How absurd.”
“I’m horrified to learn that Interion’s greatest general doesn’t know this ancient tactic! In movies and books, when all seems lost, the solution is to deploy an unexpected kiss. Everything magically resolves itself.”
He looked at me sideways and raised an eyebrow, holding back the crooked smile forming on his lips.
“I’ll make a note of that.”
I swallowed hard and looked away, because when Zion looked at me that way, something strange happened inside me.
It was like a collision of asteroids in my stomach—they exploded and sent a shower of ice and fire everywhere.
I definitely didn’t know how to handle the situation, so I chose to stare at the television instead, which only complicated things more.
The camera focused on the protagonists’ lips meeting, and I shifted on the couch.
I’d forgotten about this scene, and my cheeks warmed at what was still to come. The next scene was purely sensual.
I searched for the remote on the couch and turned off the television. Kiara and Zion stared at me.
“Why did you do that?” he grumbled, frowning, while the chimera snorted indignantly. “The movie isn’t over yet.”
“Yes, but the next scenes aren’t very good,” I countered, blushing. He studied me, and his eyes darkened.
“Are you embarrassed by the kiss? I wouldn’t think that’d be a problem for you after kissing two people in the same night.”
I turned to Zion incredulously.
“Are you seriously going to start with this?”
Seeing my expression, he softened a bit.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” His hand lifted unexpectedly toward mine, but he stopped halfway. “I’m sorry.”
I took a deep breath and looked at him with a frown.
“Zion, you’ve certainly kissed other people before or after me, so why did you make such a big deal about it?”
He stared at me for a while, and I thought maybe it wasn’t a good time to bring up something like that, since the day had been going so well—why ruin it? I opened my mouth to change the subject, but he answered:
“I’m 287 years old, Kyller. I’ve kissed some women before you, but none after you,” he replied, his gaze holding mine in place. “The problem is that after the bond, I simply couldn’t touch another woman. That’s why I got angry—because for me, it always felt wrong, and for you, it was easy.”
That caught me so off guard that I just blinked and stared at him for an awkward moment.
“No one after the bond? I don’t know if I believe that. It’s been five years.”
I knew I was pushing it, but he was being incredibly open today.
“It’s the truth.” He paused, cleared his throat, and seemed reluctant to continue. “I wouldn’t lie about that. I couldn’t get close to another woman, not even…” He trailed off, seeming uncertain about what he was going to say. “Not even the woman who was important to me before you came along.”
I nearly choked.
“What?” I asked, shocked. “You had a girlfriend?”
He shook his head and looked down at his hands.
“She wasn’t exactly a girlfriend.”
“And what happened to her?” I asked, sitting up straighter so I could watch his every reaction.
“What happens to all relationships when someone finds their bonded partner.”
Zion shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, and I couldn’t help but feel a little sad for him.
Unfortunately, the bond could be a curse too.
Wars had been fought over it, and the problem with the connection was how unexpectedly it struck.
A faerie could spend two hundred years married, only for the bond to tie her to someone else entirely.
Imagine how devastating it would be for her spouse to be abandoned so abruptly.
Besides, the nature of our race had always been more sentimental than rational—we were primitive yet intelligent beings, dangerously unstable.
The weight of the news settled in my stomach like a rock. As much as I’d already imagined something like this, hearing it from him made it so much worse. Could this be why Zion despised the bond so much?
“Did you love her?” I asked, prying a bit deeper. His expression went blank. I felt the shadows peering over my shoulders. Zion stayed silent for a while before answering.
“I… That’s not a simple answer… After the bond, things changed. It took us a while to get used to it, and fortunately, she understood.”
Now he was the one studying my expression.
I took a bite of pizza and mulled it over.
He hadn’t answered about loving her, but there was clearly something there.
I could torture myself trying to figure out why, but I preferred to believe he was holding back to spare my feelings.
In the end, I decided not to fool myself by reading between the lines.
“I hope she’s doing well,” I said, my heart aching.
It wouldn’t be easy to accept something like that. I certainly wouldn’t react well if the person I loved abandoned me overnight for someone else. I also couldn’t pretend I hadn’t been bitten by the jealousy bug. Some things were better left alone.
“She’s fine. In a way, time heals most things, and what it doesn’t heal, it eases.”