Gwen stared dazedly at the man.

Zion, dressed in a black coat, stood tall in the study, exuding an oppressive aura. He walked toward her and pulled the teary-eyed girl, her face streaked like a little tabby cat, into his arms.

One hand gently smoothed her hair as his voice softened to the extreme, "Still saying you didn’t cry."

Gwen leaned against his shoulder, mumbling, "You did it on purpose."

"Are you at least a little touched?"

She pounded on him twice more in response.

Zion chuckled