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Zeke: The Boundarylands

Page 7

by Callie Rhodes


  Nothing cooled the fire in his veins.

  Zeke considered hiking up to Green Lake again and taking a quick plunge. After last night's temperatures, the water ought to be plenty cold enough to douse this fire and wither his balls.

  But he quickly abandoned the idea. It wasn't worth the risk of Darcy getting it in her head to take a bath and catching him in the water again.

  It had been incredibly hard to resist the temptation to drag her into the lake with him last time and take her right there. And after their heated exchange this morning, Zeke was afraid this time it would be downright impossible. Hell, the memory of her sweet little mouth cussing like a trucker had him hard all over again.

  Instead, Zeke trudged dispiritedly back to the cabin with sweat running down his neck, half a dozen rabbits slung over his shoulder, and his mind more confused than ever.

  Shit, he didn't even understand why he was fighting Darcy so hard. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought of the very same solution the night before. It didn't matter that there were no outbuildings on the far reaches of his property—he could easily throw something serviceable together in a few hours.

  But doing so would be admitting that he couldn't control himself. That he hadn't learned a damned thing since a decade ago when he'd grabbed the wrist of a flirty little redhead who'd flounced into the Southeastern Boundaryland bar.

  Except Darcy was nothing like Stephanie. Darcy didn't lie or play games or manipulate to get her way. Zeke knew exactly what she was thinking, what she was feeling, what she needed in every moment.

  Sure, there were a few similarities between her and the first omega he'd awakened. They both had a knack for attracting trouble. They both wore lots of makeup and dressed for attention. And Darcy drove him just as wild with want. Even more so, if Zeke was honest with himself. If he had any hope of keeping his distance, those were the qualities that he needed to focus on.

  Zeke had come too far to repeat his mistake—both literally and figuratively. He'd climbed out of hell with nothing but grit and determination. He'd achieved something that had killed alphas twice as strong as him, starting his life over after knowing the touch of an omega.

  Stephanie had dazzled him, ridden his cock, taken his knot…and then given her claiming bite to someone else.

  The hair on the back of Zeke's neck stood up at the memory. The shards left over from her long-ago betrayal threatened to dig into his heart again.

  Zeke paused at the edge of the clearing, gazing out at the beautiful valley where he'd slowly recovered his life. At first, he'd expected to die here from the pain—and he'd been okay with that.

  Not anymore.

  Zeke wasn't about to suffer that fate again. He'd been molten by pain and reformed as something new. He was stronger now—strong enough to grind that old, shameful pain into dust.

  He filled his lungs with clover-scented air, knowing there wasn't a force on Earth that could bring him to his knees again. To prove it, he'd endure the next month with an untouched omega just feet from his front door. That was the only way that he could prove to himself beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had put the past behind.

  Zeke adjusted the bundle of furs over his shoulder as he started across the clearing, his mind blessedly clearer. There was more to be done today—rabbits to clean and a door to rehang. He welcomed the thought of those tasks he could do without thinking, losing himself in the work.

  Ahead, he caught sight of a light in the bathroom window on the second floor of his cabin.

  Candles—six or seven of them, were lined up on the window sill. The glass was slightly fogged, but as Zeke drew nearer, the interior of the room came into focus.

  The second it did, he wished he hadn't looked.

  He suddenly knew he could work the whole day and into the night, and the fever inside him wouldn't cool a single degree.

  Darcy was naked in his bathtub.

  He had no idea why she'd lit candles. There was plenty of light in the sky.

  You want me to apologize for trying to feel good for a few goddamn seconds?

  Her words came back to him, echoing mockingly in his head. That's what she was doing up there, why she had lit candles she didn't need, why she'd run the water hot enough that it steamed the glass.

  Her scent wafted down and enveloped him, and Zeke couldn't stop himself from breathing deeply of it, holding it in his lungs and savoring every nuance. There was contentment, and deep relaxation…and appreciation. And why not—it was the last real bath she might have for a month.

  Zeke felt his muscles weaken, and the rabbits fell to the earth in front of him. Darcy wasn't touching herself—not the way she had last night, anyway—but she might as well have been from the effect she had on him as she cupped the water in her hands and let it stream down her upturned face, her lips parted with pleasure.

  Zeke couldn't turn away. He stood rooted to the spot as she lathered her arms, taking the time to slowly rub the soap from her fingers to her shoulders. Drops of water beaded and dripped from her hard nipples. The sight made Zeke's cock ache like never before.

  Before he'd realized what he was doing, he'd ripped his pants open and held his thick shaft in his hand.

  He knew he shouldn't be doing this…but he couldn't stop, not while his vision was full of her beautiful body in soft focus through the window, pink and perfect.

  And definitely not when she picked up a washcloth and began caressing her body with it, trailing it slowly down her belly, until it disappeared from view between her thighs, his view obscured by the tub.

  By that point, it was already too late.

  Zeke was lost. He stroked himself with the raw brutality that had built up over ten years. His need took over, filling his mind with imagining what it would be like to sink his cock inside her.

  To feel her slick pouring between them. To reach down and touch it and taste it. To feel her lose herself…to lose himself inside her.

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Zeke's balls tightened. His cock strained with need. He closed his eyes and felt a pressure building deep at the base of his shaft—a pressure he hadn't felt in years.

  Ten years to be exact.

  His knees buckled as a savage orgasm ripped through him, wave after wave of come shooting from the head of his cock and spraying out over the meadow floor.

  Eventually, the waves subsided—and by some miracle, Zeke was still standing. At the base of his cock, his knot gave up its struggle to swell and finally faded away.

  Holy shit.

  The balm of release gave way to horror as Zeke realized that the mere sight of Darcy had been enough to coax his damn knot back to life—and she wasn't even awakened yet.

  Yet?

  Fuck that. She would never be awakened. Not even if it meant admitting defeat and acknowledging that she had been right.

  There was no way the two of them would last a month with her in the woodshed a few feet from his door. At this rate, they wouldn't last through the night.

  Zeke yanked up his zipper and, without wasting another second, picked up the rabbits and stormed to his workbench, where he grabbed an ax, a saw, and a handful of nails.

  It looked like he'd spend the rest of the day building a shed after all.

  Chapter Ten

  Nearly three weeks after arriving in the Boundarylands, Darcy had to admit that living in the middle of the woods wasn't so bad.

  The small, square structure Zeke had built for her on the western edge of his land near a natural spring was snug and secure. It had a tiny porch and shelves for her belongings, as well as a window that looked out on the mountains in the distance. He'd even carried the cot out for her.

  Darcy had everything she needed. Zeke dropped off food every morning before she woke, and she had grown accustomed to using a lantern for light and washing her clothes and dishes in the spring.

  At first, it had been hard to get used to the quiet. Having spent her entire life until now living in the city, the silen
ce had been unsettling. The night sky had creeped her out as well, filled with more stars than Darcy ever imagined existed. For a full week, she would have given anything for a single streetlight or neon sign.

  But now she had come to enjoy the peace of lying in the darkness, the only sound the forest creatures occasionally stirring, or the breeze rustling the trees outside her window.

  But there was one aspect of a life lived in nature that Darcy hadn't adjusted to: it was lonely.

  It wasn't the lack of people that weighed on her. Darcy had spent plenty of time surrounded by people and still feeling completely alone.

  But this was real solitude. From sunup to sundown, she had nothing but her own thoughts for company and no distractions to take her mind off them. As the days passed with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to talk to, Darcy was learning things about herself that she had never been aware of before.

  Some of those things weren't so bad. For instance, now Darcy knew that she could close her eyes and replay her favorite movie in her mind. Or that, as she went further and further afield on her walks, she could mark her route through what had once seemed to be identical trees and find her way back.

  But other realizations were harder to accept. The most discouraging was that, despite having worked hard her whole life to be completely independent, Darcy was forced to admit that there was no way she could survive out here on her own.

  Sure, she could walk for miles without the fear she'd once felt in the forest, but she still relied on the food Zeke left outside her door every morning before she woke up. She kept warm at night under blankets and furs that he'd provided. She drank out of the spring using the cup he'd given her and lit her small shelter with the matches and lantern he'd left behind.

  All of that, Darcy could make her peace with. It wasn't so different from relying on the corner store for her coffee back home.

  What was harder to accept was that without Zeke's help—without the place to hide that he had provided her and the comforting knowledge that he could make short work of any beta stupid enough to trespass on his land-—she'd be helpless against the bastards who wanted her dead.

  Darcy prided herself on making her own way in the world, but now she had piled up so many debts that she didn't think she'd ever be able to repay them.

  And she had no idea how she would do so, even if she could. What would an alpha like Zeke, who traded for the few things he couldn't build or hunt or grow on his own, consider payment? It wasn't like there was some kind of standard exchange rate out here in the Boundarylands—no three-pelts-and-a-bottle-of-whisky for shed rental.

  But that didn't mean that Darcy couldn't at least try to pay him back. Hell, at this point, she had to, or she'd get no peace. Zeke's words were lodged in her mind:

  Awakening my first omega almost cost me everything. She stabbed me in the back, and I'd rather throw myself off a damned cliff than go through that again.

  She could hear him saying it every night when she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

  She wasn't any of the things on that list. She wasn't selfish. She wasn't a backstabber. And she would never be an omega.

  As long as Darcy was dependent on Zeke’s hospitality, she would show her gratitude with deeds as well as words.

  For the last several days, she had been trying to catch him as he dropped off her food for the day, but somehow the giant alpha moved so quietly she never heard him.

  That was why today, Darcy was up at the crack of dawn, huddled under a thick fur blanket on the tiny porch. Her breath was visible in the chilly morning air, even though it was March.

  She had been waiting for what seemed like ages, breathing the pleasant scent of fresh lumber, but the sun still hadn't breached the horizon. She was tugging the blanket more tightly around herself when Zeke's familiar voice came from somewhere in the woods.

  "What the hell are you doing up so early?"

  Darcy jumped up and searched the trees, but she couldn't spot him. Zeke didn't sound the least bit happy to find her waiting for him, but she felt a pleasurable sense of relief hearing his voice. She tried to tell herself that after spending so much time alone, she would have felt that way about anyone—but deep down, she knew that was a lie.

  Zeke didn't just speak—he rumbled, a sound that seemed to seep into her skin.

  "I've been trying to catch you for the last couple of days," she called.

  "Why's that?" Zeke stepped out of the woods carrying a metal pail. "Is something wrong?"

  Darcy shook her head. "I just wanted to thank you. You know, for building the shed and for bringing me food every morning."

  "You don't need to thank me." Zeke's expression was hard and flat, giving nothing away. "The point of you staying all the way out here on the far edge of my land was so that we wouldn't have to see or be near each other."

  Darcy had no argument for that—especially when the whole thing had been her idea. Of course, that was before she realized just how lonely it was out here.

  "I just—I thought it was important that you know how grateful I am," she stammered. "That I'm not taking your help for granted."

  Zeke stepped out into the light beneath a towering redwood several yards away. He regarded her skeptically without speaking. Even from a distance, Darcy could feel the intensity of his gaze.

  "You're just starved for company," he said eventually. "You're not used to this."

  Darcy shrugged off his judgment. "Both can be true, you know. It's been three weeks, after all."

  He snorted. "Try ten years of solitude and then get back to me."

  "Ten years?" Darcy was astonished. "That's…"

  "Pathetic?"

  "Unfortunate," she countered. "But what about your time with the omega?"

  "Fine," Zeke conceded, taking the food out of the pail and setting it down at his feet. "Ten years minus six days."

  Darcy was even more surprised. "You were only with her for six days?"

  "That was enough, trust me. Here's your food for the day. Do me a favor, and don't bother getting up early for another one of these chats tomorrow."

  "Zeke, wait," she called out as he turned to go. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just…"

  Zeke turned back, his expression guarded. "Well?" he demanded after a silence stretched between them.

  Darcy was struggling to find the right words. Fuck it, she thought—she might as well go with the truth.

  "I know I say the wrong thing a lot," she said, talking fast. "I'm too loud, and too blunt, and too…much. And I get that you don't like me, and that's okay. Not many people do. But I want you to know that I appreciate everything you're doing for me, and I'm worried that I'll never be able to pay you back for your kindness."

  Zeke's only response was to stare at her, his expression darkening. Darcy resisted the urge to fidget under the force of his gaze.

  "This isn't kindness, Darcy," he finally said. "You're living in a shack alone in the middle of the wilderness eating day-old food, all so I won't give in to the temptation to throw you down and bury my cock inside you."

  Darcy wondered if he was trying to shock her into leaving him alone. He couldn't really believe that she didn't grasp the situation…could he?

  "Ezekiel, I'm alive. Three weeks ago, I thought the Baron brothers were about to kill me. Without you, I'd be as good as dead. But now—even if they manage to take me out the second I drive out of here—I will still have had this month. Giving me that is kindness, no matter what your reasons."

  Another heavy silence fell between them. Darcy waited, wishing she knew what he was thinking.

  "Where are you going to go after this?" Zeke finally asked, his voice gruff.

  "East. Maybe Illinois, or Ohio. Someplace big enough that I can blend in, but not so big that the Baron brothers would think to look for me there."

  "How long do you think they'll keep looking for you?"

  "Forever." She hesitated. "If someone killed your brother, would you ever give up the hunt?"


  "No."

  "Neither will they."

  Zeke seemed to consider for a moment. "Why did you do it?...kill their brother?"

  "I didn't want to, but I had no choice," she said, choosing her words carefully. "I knew Scott and his brothers for a long time, from work."

  Zeke arched a brow. "You're a cop?"

  "Hardly. Not everyone who works for the department is an officer. I was a secretary who transcribed reports and other paperwork. My desk was close to Scott's, and he was…" She struggled for another way to say it, but there was none. "…hot. I've got to give him that—the man was definitely hot."

  Zeke scowled, and Darcy moved on with the rest of the story.

  "Of course, he was also corrupt as hell. All the Baron brothers were notoriously bad cops. They took bribes, roughed up suspects, planted evidence—all of it. I should have known better."

  "So why did you date him?"

  "Scott wasn't my boyfriend," Darcy clarified. "He was just a mistake I made after way too many shots of tequila at an office retirement party. A thanks-for-driving-me-home, oh-what-the-hell, why-don't-you-come-in kind of thing."

  "A one-night stand?"

  Darcy was surprised to hear no judgment in the alpha's voice. "We didn't even get that far. The second we made it up to my place, it was clear he wanted something way rougher than I did. I told him to stop, and he slapped me. I slapped him back, so he threw a punch."

  Zeke growled, the sound low and menacing. Darcy wasn't sure why. After all, this was all in the past.

  And the story was about to get worse.

  "The second time I hit him back, Scott pulled his gun. He said he and his brothers had a running bet on which of them would screw me first, but now that I'd pissed him off, he was going to share me with both of them. He put the gun to my head while he called them and told them to come over. But he lost his focus for a second as he was hanging up, and I went for the gun. After that…"

  The sound of the gun going off, sharp and deafening, replayed in Darcy's mind. The recoil had slammed her back as a look of shock and disbelief came over Scott. It had obviously never entered his mind that he might end up on the other end of that gun.

 

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