Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 489: Ten Heartbeats Plus Mine

The house didn’t so much as whisper tonight. After dinner, after more conversations with the guys and Papa Khaos, after everything was said and done... everyone let out a long sigh of relief.

Even the house itself seemed to exhale after holding its breath for so long.

I would like to think that the house had been concerned about me, that when I had vanished for three days with Papa, it was worried about its creator. But I was pretty sure that it was more worried that its little genie was never coming back.

When I did come back, the house was more than willing to accommodate me. For once, the walls didn’t shift. The rooms didn’t rearrange. The air didn’t carry wishes or warnings. There were no added doors where there had never been one.

Just warmth, like a peace offering.

Even the massive bed was made. My pillows were fluffed, and the blankets were turned down. It was like an olive branch, as if the house wanted to remind me this was still home. That no matter how far I went, it would always wait for me.

I stood at the doorway for a long time, not moving.

Part of me expected someone to speak. For the floor to crack or the windows to rattle. But nothing came.

It was at that moment that I realized that I was holding my breath just as much as anyone else had been. I think I was actually... worried... that another wish would come in and I would be called away.

However, when that didn’t happen, I walked into the bedroom.

I didn’t have the energy to change. My dress was torn at the hem, dirt still clinging to the edges. There was blood on my knee that I didn’t remember getting, and my poor feet were covered in caked-on dirt.

Now that I was relaxed, my skin was starting to itch from how dirty I was. But still, the very idea of taking a shower seemed to be too much.

I just needed to sit.

The mattress sighed as I dropped down, the heavy comforter folding over my lap. It smelled like the guys: leather, smoke, sweet citrus, rain, death, life.

And something I didn’t have a name for.

If safety had a smell, that was what it was, and I felt every last bone and muscle in my body sinking further into the bed.

My eyes fluttered closed, just as the door opened. There was no knock, no warning that someone was coming into my sanctuary, just the door opening.

Luca stepped in, silent as a shadow, and walked to me without a word. Kneeling beside the bed, he took my hand and brought it to his lips.

He didn’t say anything, but at the same time, he didn’t need to. I squeezed his fingers tightly, even if I didn’t really have the strength to do anything more.

He didn’t let go.

Then came Dante. Leaning against the wall like he hadn’t just cracked a doorway in half trying to get to me earlier. His eyes tracked every movement, and his jaw was tight like he was expecting someone to jump out of the shadows and kill one of us.

He never approached the bed; he just stood there, watching. Like if he looked away, I’d vanish again.

Tank entered next. No hesitation. He knelt at the foot of the bed, arms crossed on my knees, head bowed like he needed to touch me even in some small way.

Running my fingers through his hair, I let out a long sigh.

Next was Ronan. Like the other, he didn’t speak, just pulled the blanket tighter around me before sitting on the floor at my side, back against the bed frame.

Chang Xuefeng came in without a sound, just like the god of death that he was, and stopped near the headboard. I could feel his presence like a cold current under warm water. He didn’t touch me.

But he was ready to move. Always.

One by one, the rest of my men filtered into the room, never saying anything. It was almost like they were worried that if they said something, the spell we were all under would go up in smoke.

Beau, with his tired eyes and twitching fingers. Dimitri, who looked like he’d fought a war just to keep from losing his mind. Salvatore and Désiré, mirrors of rage and restraint. Eric, always the calmest until he wasn’t. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

They all found a place; against the walls, on the rug, pressed into corners like they couldn’t bear to be too far. Not a single one asked to be near me; they just were.

Letting out another tired sigh, my fingers still entangled in Tank’s hair, I just let it happen.

Ever so slowly, hands started to touch me gently. Shoulders brushed mine as the rest of the men got into bed, but Tank never moved from his spot on my legs.

Someone’s hand was in my hair. Someone else was holding my ankle. Two bodies on either side of me kept me from leaning too far one way.

It was like they were trying to memorize my shape with their hands. Like if they touched me enough, they’d know I was real again.

Nobody spoke for a long time.

Then, finally, Dimitri broke the silence. "You’re safe now," he murmured, his chest vibrating with his promise. "And I’m putting a leash on you. Just so you know."

Luca rested his forehead against my shoulder. "We’re not mad. We can never be mad at you."

"Just scared," Ronan added.

"I know," I admitted. "I just needed to know who I am... who I really am."

Dante let out a slow breath. "You’re ours. That’s what you are."

The blanket slid lower as someone pulled me back against their chest. I didn’t know who. I didn’t care.

Arms wrapped around me. One at my waist. Another over my shoulder. A third tangled with my fingers.

They pressed close. Not because they wanted something.

But because they needed to feel me breathe.

"Do you regret it?" Salvatore asked softly. "Everything that’s happened since the world went to pot?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Do you know what you want to do next?" Désiré asked.

"No," I said again. "But I know what I have. And that’s enough."

No one argued.

The house creaked.

Not a threat, but a lullaby.

The men who loved me surrounded me in every direction. At my feet. At my back. On either side. Some pressed their foreheads to my legs. Some curled beside me like wolves against winter.

And I, in the center, with their breath syncing to mine, finally let my eyes close.

No dreams.

No monsters.

Just warmth.

And ten heartbeats, beating in time with mine.