Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 135

Chapter 135: 135

"Wait," she said, her voice hoarse.

But the soldiers didn’t stop. Or maybe they just ignored her. They continued forward, their faces impassive, their boots crunching against the dirt.

Zara’s heart pounded as she took another step forward, her hands curling into fists. No, no, it couldn’t be Winter. He wasn’t—he couldn’t be—

She had just seen him. He had been alive.

Another step.

"Who is that?" she asked, louder this time, forcing steel into her voice.

The soldiers barely glanced at her as they carried the body past. Something cold coiled in her stomach. The lifeless arm hanging over the side of the stretcher, the slackness of the fingers—it sent ice straight through her chest.

One of the soldiers, a woman with sharp eyes and a bandaged arm, turned toward her. She gave Zara a tired look but didn’t answer.

Zara clenched her jaw. "Please... Please let me... Has anyone—" Her voice faltered. Has anyone claimed the deceased? She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides. If no one stopped her, if no one told her no, then she had to look.

She forced herself to take a step closer.

The sharp scent of blood hit her first. The body was wrapped hastily in a tattered cloak, but a few details still stuck out.

Zara’s pulse pounded in her ears, her breath sharp and ragged. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him.

She forced herself to look closely. The boots—wrong size. The hair—too dark. A stranger.

Not Winter.

A wave of relief crashed over her, dizzying in its intensity. Her knees almost buckled, her breath catching in a sharp, unsteady inhale.

That meant he was inside, alive.

God, please.

Zara’s legs moved on their own, pushing through the exhaustion and stiffness in her body. She stumbled toward the med tent, barely aware of the soldier calling after her. The entrance flap was slightly open, the warm glow of lanterns flickering inside.

Her breath was shallow as she stepped in.

Rows of cots filled the space, injured soldiers and survivors lying motionless, some sleeping, others grimacing as medics tended to them.

The sharp scent of antiseptic burned her nose, but she barely noticed.

She scanned the room quickly, her pulse hammering. Where was he?

Then—

"Zara?"

Her head snapped to the right, and there he was.

Winter.

Alive.

His head was propped against a thin pillow, his black hair damp with sweat, his face pale but alive. His sharp eyes softened the moment they met hers.

Relief flooded her so intensely that her knees nearly gave out.

"You’re okay," she breathed, crossing the space between them in a few quick strides.

Winter gave a tired, lopsided grin. "More or less."

His voice was hoarse, but he was awake.

Awake.

Zara let out a sharp breath, one she hadn’t even realized she was holding. The emotion hit her like a tidal wave—fear, relief, frustration—all of it crashing down at once.

Her hands trembled as she reached for his, wrapping her fingers around his rough, bandaged knuckles.

"I thought—" Her voice wavered. "They carried out a body, and I—"

Winter’s fingers tightened around hers, grounding her. "Not me." His thumb brushed against her wrist in slow, reassuring circles. "I’m still here."

A lump formed in her throat.

She grabbed his face, fingers pressing into his jaw, her pulse roaring louder than his words. Her breath barely caught before she crashed her lips against his, desperate, reckless, like she needed to feel him alive to believe it.

Winter stiffened for half a second, then exhaled sharply against her mouth, hands gripping her waist. His lips parted beneath hers, the heat of him grounding her, pulling her out of the abyss she’d nearly drowned in.

But it was enough.

Winter’s hand tightened even more as if anchoring himself to her. His lips were chapped, and the taste of antiseptic was faint on his skin, but he was warm—alive.

His fingers dug into her hips, and for a second, he kissed her back just as fiercely, his breath shuddering against her skin. But then he broke away, just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Leo let out a sharp squawk, squirming between them as if protesting his sudden role as an unwilling cushion.

Zara barely had time to register the tiny body wriggling against her chest before Winter pulled back fully, eyes flicking down at the bundled-up toddler currently caught in the middle of their reunion.

Leo whined again, face scrunching up as he wriggled harder, his small hands smacking against Winter’s collarbone.

Winter let out a breathless, startled laugh, catching one of Leo’s flailing fists. "I think we’re smothering your kid."

Zara exhaled shakily, adjusting Leo against her chest. He huffed dramatically and buried his face against her shoulder, as if to say he was done with both of them.

Winter’s voice was low, rough. "I take it you thought I was dead?"

Zara swallowed hard, her hands still gripping his face. "Don’t ever—" She inhaled sharply. "You scared the shit out of me."

Winter huffed a quiet, breathless laugh, but there was something warm in his eyes. "Yeah. I gathered that."

She wanted to hit him. She wanted to kiss him again.

Instead, she just exhaled, her forehead still pressed against his, her pulse refusing to settle.

"You’re okay," she murmured, more to herself than him.

Winter’s hands squeezed her waist lightly. "I am."

Zara finally stepped back, hands dropping from his face. "You’d better not do anything crazy again."

Winter blinked at her, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then he exhaled a breathless chuckle. "No promises."

Zara wanted to smack him again. Instead, she let out a shaky laugh, her forehead resting against his for a brief moment.

Leo, apparently deciding he was done being ignored, let out a small grumble and shoved a tiny hand against Winter’s chin.

Winter raised a brow. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Hands off your mom. How are you kiddo?"

A throat cleared behind her, making Zara jolt back.

"You can hold his hand all you want later," a medic said dryly, "but he still needs rest."

Heat flared across Zara’s face, but she didn’t let go.

She pulled herself together, straightening. "Come on," she muttered, glancing toward the tent. "You should be resting."

Winter smirked slightly, lips still a little swollen from the force of her kiss. "You’re one to talk."

She shot him a glare but didn’t fight him when he let his arm brush against hers, slowly pulling her into the cot.

The medic shot them a look but didn’t say anything else.

Zara closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

Thank god.

A sudden wave of exhaustion slammed into her. It was like her body had only been holding itself together through sheer force of will, and now that she knew he was okay, she could feel every ache, every bruise, every hour of lost sleep catching up to her.

Winter’s voice pulled her back. "So what’s going on outside now?"

Zara blinked, running a hand down Leo’s back to keep herself grounded. "Not much," she admitted. "We’re still waiting to go into Sector 2."

Winter hummed, shifting slightly against the cot. "How long?"

She rubbed her temple, trying to shake off the fatigue. "Command is figuring out logistics. Could be hours. Could be tomorrow." She hesitated, glancing at him. "How are you really feeling?"

Winter sighed, running a tired hand down his face. "Just exhausted. An ability user patched me up, so the wound’s closed. I’m good to go."

Zara narrowed her eyes. "You’re sure?"

Winter smirked slightly, shifting his weight on the cot. "What, worried I can’t carry you around?"

She gave him a flat look. "Shut up."

A small sound broke the quiet.

Leo squirmed against her chest, turning his sleepy face toward Winter. He blinked blearily, his chubby hand reaching out toward Winter’s face. His fingers brushed against his chin, then his cheek, as if making sure he was real.

Winter let out a breath of surprise. "Hey, kid."

Leo stared at him for a long moment, then his tiny voice whispered, "You came back."

Zara felt something in her heart crack.

Winter’s breath hitched. His fingers brushed Leo’s small hand, his touch careful, hesitant. "Yeah, buddy," he murmured, voice rough. "I came back."

Leo shifted in the sling, clearly deciding he was done being carried. With a small grunt, he pushed against Zara’s shoulder, squirming forward. She barely had time to loosen the sling before he wriggled free enough to clamber onto Winter’s chest, nestling against him like a satisfied kitten.

Winter stiffened slightly, like he wasn’t sure what to do with a toddler suddenly sprawled over him, but then he let out a breath of something that almost sounded like relief.

Leo curled against him, mumbling sleepily. "Are the scary things gone?"

Winter’s throat worked around an answer. "Yeah," he said quietly. "They’re gone."

Zara swallowed past the tightness in her throat.

Leo let out a tiny, contented sigh and closed his eyes again.

Winter’s hand hesitated in the air for a moment before he finally let it rest gently against Leo’s back. His fingers barely moved, but Zara saw the way he exhaled, the way his body eased ever so slightly.

Zara felt her own body sag forward. Without thinking, she leaned her head against Winter’s shoulder.

"I think my heart might explode," Winter whispered in her ear.

Zara’s lips twitched. "Dont wake him up."

Winter shifted, his breath steady against her hair. "That’s not fair, aren’t you worried about me?"

Zara huffed a quiet laugh, her eyelids growing heavier. "You’re tougher than him," she murmured. "You’ll live."

Winter hummed, a soft, amused sound. "Debatable."

The warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the solid presence of him—it was enough to finally let the last shreds of tension in her bones unravel.

Then—

A loud voice echoed through the tent from outside, sharp enough to jolt Zara halfway awake.

"Sector 2 clearance confirmed," the voice announced. "Moving in one hour!"

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