Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Everything became a blur, and Winter truly didn’t care as long as it meant getting Fox somewhere safe and properly healed again.
Following Zelda’s directions, he got Fox stretched out across the back seat with his head settled in Zelda’s lap and then drove them to his loft.
He tried asking her questions, but she shushed him and told him to let her focus on healing his boyfriend.
That was all it took to shut Winter’s mouth. The questions could wait. And he had a hell of a lot of questions, but his main concern was Fox.
Once they were parked in the garage, Winter jerked open the back door to help Fox out of the SUV, but his lover was already up and moving much easier than he had been at the cabin.
“Fox,” he started, but the redhead gently brushed his fingers across his lips. They were trembling and he looked positively drained, but the lines of pain were gone from his face.
“I’m okay,” Fox said softly.
“Are you sure?”
Fox nodded. “Tired. Really tired. And thirsty.” Fox wrapped his arms around Winter’s waist and laid his head on his shoulder, snuggling in close.
Winter cautiously placed his arms around Fox and slowly applied pressure.
He was dying to hold his man, but he didn’t want to cause him any pain.
The moment he’d realized he was trapped where he sat on the sofa, stark terror had consumed him.
He hadn’t been able to protect Fox. Hadn’t been able to do anything but watch.
Winter closed his eyes and focused on the sound of Fox breathing.
He was content to never again move from that spot.
But he was drawn out of the moment by the sound of a happy sigh.
He opened his eyes to find Zelda watching them from where she still sat in the back seat.
“You’re both adorable. Positively adorable.”
Winter frowned. He didn’t know whether to be pissed at the old witch for dodging them for so long or if he should be grateful that she’d stepped in to save their lives.
Fox loosened his hold on Winter and turned to look at Zelda, a smile playing on his lips while he swayed on his feet.
“And you look dead on your feet. Understandable,” she said with a nod.
“Some water and juice will help get you going again. Can’t rest yet.
We’ve got to get some things worked out.
” She waved her hand at Fox, beckoning him over.
“You help me up those stairs. These old bones of mine are slow-moving. Winter can go unlock all his fancy security doodads.”
Winter didn’t want to let him go, and he certainly wasn’t too keen on letting Zelda into his place, but she did save their lives. And if he were being honest with himself, he suspected the witch could get into his place with or without the security system turned off.
Hurrying ahead of Fox and Zelda, Winter unlocked the door, propped it open, and jogged to the kitchen, where he fixed Fox a tall glass of iced water.
He was heading toward the door again when Fox and Zelda appeared.
He closed it behind them and stood back while Zelda urged Fox to sit at one of the stools lining the breakfast bar.
Winter placed the glass in front of Fox, fighting the urge to gather him in his arms again.
He took a step away and looked at Fox for the first time since they left the cabin.
The back of his arms, T-shirt, and down the legs of his jeans were streaked with blood and slashes.
His heart broke while fresh anger poured through him.
He wanted to return to the cabin and shatter the frozen bitch who had hurt him.
He wanted to burn her cabin to the ground with her inside, then slip into the world of the dead and torture her fucking ghost for a few decades.
“I’m fine, I swear,” Fox said. His voice sounded lighter and firmer than it had, as if he’d regained some of his strength.
“You were stabbed so many times,” Winter whispered. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Fox’s temple, still afraid of touching him.
“Trust me, I know, but Zelda healed me. Here. Lift up my shirt.”
Winter stepped aside as Fox grabbed the hem of his T-shirt.
Winter helped, lifting it completely over his head.
He’d expected to see hundreds of long, deep ugly wounds, but instead there were just tiny red lines.
Some looked a little angrier than others, but he would have said all of them were easily weeks old.
Very carefully, he smoothed his hand over Fox’s back, and his boyfriend didn’t flinch in pain.
He sighed happily, leaning into his touch.
“Oh thank God,” Winter sighed. He grabbed Fox from behind and held him tight, pressing his face into his sweaty hair.
“No, thank Zelda. She fixed me. Though, if you want, I’ve still got some tender cuts on my ass you can kiss later,” Fox said playfully.
A scoffing noise pulled Winter’s attention to the kitchen, where the witch was placing a pale green tea kettle on the stove. He couldn’t remember having a tea kettle. Or the delicate cup and saucer that sat on the counter next to the stove.
“Such a naughty boy,” Zelda murmured.
“I’d thank Zelda if she’d just shown up when we started looking for her weeks ago. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have found ourselves on that bitch’s doorstep in the first place.” Winter snarled, his arms still tightly wrapped around Fox.
“Oh, my God. What the fuck?” Fox moaned, but Zelda just laughed.
“It’s okay. He’s like his brother. All the Variks can be hotheads when someone they care about is threatened. Rafe got snippy with me over his Philippe.”
Fox hummed happily in Winter’s arms, but Winter was not charmed. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on? Do you know about this stupid prophecy? Or even who made it?”
“And did you make that protective shield that blocked the fire?” Fox added.
Zelda rubbed her hands together and smiled broadly. “To answer your last question, first—no. No, I didn’t. You did that, and you know it.”
Fox squeaked in his arms, and even Winter’s heart did a little skip for him.
Fox had done magic. Had done it all on his own.
Joy surged through him for his witch. He wanted to give Fox time to explore all of this, but they also needed to know about this prophecy and what it meant in their fight against Damon.
They had no idea if Zelda would be sticking around or if they’d get another chance to talk to her.
“But we’ll have to talk more about that later. Your boyfriend is about to bust a seam if we don’t get down to business,” Zelda said with a deep laugh.
Fox sighed and nodded. “He’s right. My questions can wait. We need to protect his family. The prophecy. Do you know who made it?”
“Of course I do,” she said easily. She shuffled over to the counter where she started digging through a strange bag made of multicolored fabrics.
Winter didn’t remember seeing her carry it, but then the majority of his focus had been on Fox.
She pulled out a little tin and what looked to be a silver ball tea diffuser on a delicate chain.
“Would you like some hot tea? My own mixture.”
“No, thank you,” Fox said brightly. He seemed taken with the witch. Not that Winter could blame him. Other than his mother, she was the first witch who hadn’t tried to kill him.
“Zelda, the prophecy.”
She huffed at Winter before turning back to her teacup. “Yes, yes. The prophecy.”
“Did you make it?”
“Of course. As if anyone else would be trusted with such a thing.”
“Were you talking about Fox?”
“Hmmm?” She looked up from where she was filling her diffuser with leaves. “Oh yes, I was.”
“And?”
“The entire prophecy was nonsense,” Zelda said with an absent wave of her hand. “I made it all up.”
Winter couldn’t move. Couldn’t even think. There was just a roaring in his ears. It took him a moment to realize that it was actually the blood rushing by. She’d made up the prophecy? He couldn’t have heard her right. He must have drifted off or stroked out. Anything.
“What?” he croaked.
“I made it up. It was all a bunch of bunk,” Zelda said easily. The tea kettle whistled loudly, and Zelda pulled it off the burner, pouring the hot water into her cup.
Winter exploded. “What the fuck were you thinking? You put my family in danger! You’ve made a mess of everything! How could you—”
Fox was off his stool and pushing Winter backward, trying to shush him, but Winter would not be contained. This was fucking ludicrous. She’d made it all up. How could anyone do that?
“Put you in danger?” she scoffed. “This little dustup you have going with Damon would have grown whether I made my prophecy or not. That started well before my meddling.”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” she snapped at him. She propped her fists on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him. “The only one who has even the tiniest right to be mad at me is Fox.” She turned her steely gaze on Fox, and his boyfriend flinched. “Tell me honestly, are you mad at me, boy?”
“No.”
Winter’s head jerked to look at his lover. “Fox!”
“What? I’m telling the truth. I’m not mad.
Sure, this has rearranged my life, but if it wasn’t for her fake prophecy, I would never have met you.
” Fox gave him a little shove, his expression mutinous.
“I’m glad I met you. Even if you don’t need me anymore.
I’m glad I got the chance to spend some time with you. ”
“Don’t need you…” he repeated dully, the words a confused jumble in his brain.
But the pieces were starting to fall into place past the red haze of anger.
If the prophecy wasn’t real, then Fox had nothing to do with their war with Damon.
Keeping him at the loft wouldn’t help or hurt their cause. He was free to go home.
Fox could leave.
But he’d said that he’d consider staying. They were going to live together. To date. Right?
“Of course I need you,” Winter said.
Fox groaned and launched himself back into Winter’s arms. “Oh, thank God.”