There had been so much blood. It seemed to be everywhere—on the walls, the floor, her clothes, her skin, her hair.
There was no way she would be able to deny what had happened. And she knew there'd be no forgiveness for her, ever. Darcy had typed up too many reports to pretend she didn't know what happened to people who killed cops.
"You had to kill him," Zeke said. "You didn't have a choice."
Darcy shook her head. "I used to believe that. But I've had a lot of time out here alone to think, and I've changed my mind. I did have a choice—stay quiet or fight back. Both could have ended with me getting shot in the end, but only one gave me a real chance of surviving. You made that same choice when you decided to fight the Baron brothers out on the road. And when you brought me on your land. And when you built this shack so far away from your house."
Zeke didn't respond, but his gaze remained unbroken, his expression inscrutable.
"That's the kindness I'm thanking you for," Darcy concluded. "You didn't have to do any of this. But you chose to. The reasons don't matter, at least not to me. All that matters is the choice to keep fighting against the odds."
Darcy adjusted the fur that had slipped down over her bare shoulder as she turned to go back into her tiny shack, but she paused at the door, somehow aware that Zeke hadn't moved. She could feel his eyes on her, as tangible as any real touch.
"And don't worry, Ezekiel. I won't bother you again. I promise.”
Chapter Eleven
Zeke needed a drink—something strong enough to obliterate the riot of thoughts and emotions wreaking havoc in his head, if only for a night. And there was only one place in the Boundarylands that could provide what he needed.
Sure, Zeke could have stayed home to drink. He still had half a bottle of moonshine he'd bought from his alpha brother Aric, who distilled stuff so potent it could strip the paint off a new car.
A few healthy swigs of that and Zeke wouldn't be feeling a lick of pain…or much of anything at all. At least, nothing he'd remember when he woke up the next morning.
But Zeke was looking for more than just a blackout. And even more importantly, he didn't trust himself to drink alone.
For three weeks, Zeke's routine had revolved around doing whatever it took to keep himself under control.
After getting up before the sun so he could avoid seeing Darcy, he threw himself into work each day, inventing new tasks when he finished everything on his list. At this point, he had chopped enough wood to last through next fall, cleaned and repaired all of his tools and weapons, cleared a patch of land for a garden, and dug a drainage trench behind the skinning shed deep enough to save the place from a tsunami.
But none of it worked. No matter how hard he pushed himself, exhausting himself until his muscles ached, she was always there.
Building Darcy a shelter miles from his house had only removed her from one of his senses. Zeke couldn't see her, but he still caught her scent in the wind. Still felt her tempting presence. Still remembered every inch of her body in perfect detail when he closed his eyes.
And it was driving him out of his mind with want.
But at least he hadn't acted on his impulses. No matter how hot his blood burned, he hadn't touched himself once since seeing her in the tub. Some days the pain of holding back was excruciating, but he managed.
There was no way in hell Zeke was going to do anything that would risk bringing his knot back to life. Coming close had been one hell of a wake-up call.
It was also why he wasn't willing to drink alone. Anything that would lower his inhibitions around Darcy was a bad idea. Instead, after finishing his work late in the afternoon, he put on a clean shirt, shaved for the first time in a few days, and headed to Evander's to drink with his brothers.
The bar wasn't busy, but Zeke hadn't expected it to be. The night before, as happened every Friday, a nearby beta madam brought her ladies around to service the community. That meant a good portion of the Boundarylands were still enjoying the afterglow of a wild night.
Zeke usually kept his distance from Evander's on Friday nights. Some of his alpha brothers interpreted that to mean that he didn't care much for sex, but the truth was he just found it hard to muster up much enthusiasm for beta prostitutes.
He had no objection to them—God knew, Nicky and her girls did the Boundarylands a hell of a service—but only for alphas who had never tasted the real thing.
Once you'd had an omega, everything else paled in comparison.
As Zeke took a stool at the middle of the bar, Ty came over to greet him. In addition to running the bar, Ty and his mate organized trade with the few outside merchants brave enough to come into neutral territory.
"Haven't seen you in a while," Ty said, pulling down a mug and filling it with beer before Zeke could ask.
"Been busy." Zeke hoped Ty wasn't planning to dig for more detail because he wasn't going to get it.
"Figured as much."
"Zeke!" Ty's mate Mia came out from the back with a welcoming smile on her face and a baby on her hip. "It hasn't been the same without you kicking everyone's ass at the pool table."
Zeke smiled for the first time in three weeks. Maybe a game or two of pool was just what he needed. Before his alpha nature showed, in what seemed like several lifetimes ago, Zeke had been a hell of a hustler. All these years later, a few beers and a couple of racks could still lift his spirits. "Yeah, well, I'm back now."
"Good thing," Mia said, a teasing light in her eyes. "’Cause Troy's been talking some serious smack lately."
"What the hell's he been saying?" Zeke demanded, his tone harsher than he intended.
Mia looked startled and took an involuntary step back. Ty sensed her alarm and reacted immediately, setting down a pitcher of beer on a nearby table hard enough to slosh over the side. "Watch your tone around my mate," he growled.
Shit. Zeke grimaced, wishing he could take back his words. He was more on edge than he'd thought if he was taking out his frustrations on another man's omega.
"My apologies. It's been, ah…a rough start to spring."
Ty nodded his acceptance of the weak apology, and Mia smiled to show there were no hard feelings. Before she could speak, the door swung open, and another alpha walked in. Ty slung his bar towel over his shoulder and went to see to his customer.
"Sorry you've been having a tough time," Mia said when he was gone.
"Ty's right. I had no right to take my mood out on you guys. But I'd still like to know—what's Troy been saying?"
"Faith's been teaching him some of her tricks, and now he thinks he's going to mop the floor with you."
"Faith can teach him anything she wants," Zeke said, relieved. Troy's omega was one hell of a pool player. "I'll still walk out of here with all his money."
"Yeah, but what we all want to know is when you're going to finally agree to play Faith," Mia said.
"Who is 'we'?"
"All of us omegas."
Zeke snorted. It figured—the women were probably dying for one of their own to best an alpha at something.
He had practically grown up in his father's pool hall and learned from every hustler that came into the place. Faith, on the other hand, had grown up in a strict religious compound. Zeke had no idea where she had learned, but she was the second-best player in the Boundarylands.
"Well, you'll be waiting a while longer. I have some things to take care of before I can waste more time in here."
"Some things to take care of?" A deep voice mocked from the end of the bar. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"
Zeke looked over to see his neighbor Cade sipping from the glass of rotgut that Ty had just set in front of him.
Shit.
It was just Zeke's luck that this bastard would follow him into Evander's. Alpha brother or not, nobody liked Cade. Sure, the Boundarylands was full of wild loners—but Cade was something else entirely.
Since the moment Zeke met him, Cade had been a mean son-of-a-bitch with a
hair-trigger, always on the lookout for any excuse to punch anyone—brother or not— in the jaw.
He was also the asshole whose property Darcy would have trespassed on that first day if Zeke hadn't stopped her.
"Listen, Cade," Ty said in a hard voice. "Nobody's in the mood for your bullshit today."
Cade laughed. "I'm not the one slinging bullshit, brother. If you don't believe me, ask Zeke here who he's been taking care of out on the western edge of his property."
"What happens on my land ain't anyone's business," Zeke growled, his mood growing darker. "Least of all yours."
"No?" Cade said. "Too bad for you, the wind doesn't give a shit about property lines. It blows the scent of that beta woman you've been hiding right over to me."
Zeke's hands tightened into fists. "Shut up, Cade."
"You've got a beta on your land?" Ty asked, looking confused.
"It's not what you think," Zeke protested. Goddamn Cade. He should never have come in here.
"You're right—it's not our business," Mia said, keeping her voice low and ignoring Cade. "But I feel like I ought to tell you, the beta authorities were in here asking about a woman a couple weeks ago. What was her name, Ty? Deborah? Dana?"
Fuck. Zeke's heart sank at this news. At least Troy had been good to his word and kept his damn mouth shut. Now all Zeke had to do was make sure that Cade stayed silent on the matter, even if he had to rip his damn tongue out.
Ty pressed his lips together. "If you're in some kind of trouble, Zeke, you should let us know. We're your brothers. We can help."
The fuck they could. The last thing Zeke needed was another alpha coming anywhere near Darcy. He'd handle this himself.
"I'm pretty sure Zeke's got all the help he needs," Cade sneered.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Zeke shot up from his barstool, ready to pummel the asshole through the floorboards.
"If you're worried that your little lady's lonely, you can relax," Cade taunted. "She's having a party now that you're gone."
Zeke stopped cold. "What?"
"I saw a carful of betas pulling into your drive while I was on my way here."
Icy fear shot through Zeke's veins. "Who did you see?"
When Cade didn't answer fast enough, Zeke grabbed him around the throat and lifted him up against the wall. "Who the fuck did you see turning on to my land?"
"How should I know?" Cade spat, obviously relishing Zeke's reaction. "Two betas. Sunglasses. Black ATVs."
Shit. The bastards must have been staking out his drive, waiting for him to leave…waiting for their opportunity to take Darcy out while he sat here nursing a beer and his wounded pride.
As much as Zeke wanted to punch Cade, he released his hold and ran for the door.
"Zeke!" Mia called after him.
He didn't answer. There wasn't time.
He had to get to Darcy.
Chapter Twelve
As the days ticked by, the sun had begun warming the land, melting the last of the snow on the distant mountains, and coaxing new growth from the earth. The nights were still chilly, tempting Darcy to stay under the cozy fur blankets in the morning, but by afternoon it was sometimes warm enough to take a quick dip in the spring. Her skin had acquired a healthy glow, and her frequent walks had toned her muscles. The simple food Zeke delivered satisfied her and left her with increased energy.
Physically, Darcy felt better than she could remember.
But her mind had never been in greater turmoil.
The afternoon following her conversation with Zeke was overcast and cool, but Darcy decided to head for the spring anyway, hoping the mineral waters might soak away some of her frustration and restlessness and quiet the soundtrack she couldn't seem to stop replaying in her mind.
Zeke had done nothing wrong. He'd kept to their bargain, keeping his distance and providing her with plenty to eat and a safe place to sleep at night. He'd made no secret of his animalistic attraction to her but had been disciplined enough to do something about it. In his way, he was protecting her as well as he knew how.
If only that wasn't so damn sexy.
Darcy had dated men who'd vowed to protect her. At best, those promises lasted about as long as a post-coital cigarette. At worst—well, at worst, those men had showed their true colors by turning into a threat themselves. Darcy had eventually lost her faith in men. Then this alpha had come along and, without even meaning to, convinced her that he was honest and true to his word.
That he was fundamentally good.
And that threw Darcy way off track and out of her comfort zone. 'Good' shouldn't be sexy. Boy scouts were good. Sunday school teachers were good. Social workers, probation officers, public defenders –many of them were good, and Darcy had never been the least bit attracted to any of them.
But she couldn't stop thinking about the look in Zeke's eyes when he'd stormed off that morning—so focused and intense. It was almost as if his gaze had been doing what his hands couldn't: touching her, holding her, reaching inside her, and seeing her for who she really was.
It had made Darcy as breathlessly turned on as she was confused. And the sensation hadn't stopped after he was gone. Hours later, she still burned for him.
It hadn't been easy keeping her hands off herself for three damn weeks. Knowing that Zeke could sense her arousal should have been enough to throw a cold bucket of water all over her libido, but somehow it had the opposite effect.
The idea of Zeke lying a few yards away, breathing the same air as she was, listening to the same night sounds, knowing all the secret things she'd done to herself—every touch, every muffled whimper—only turned her on more.
But Zeke had made it crystal clear that she was the last thing he wanted. And he should have been the last thing that Darcy wanted as well. After all, if she faltered in her resolve even once, and Zeke couldn't stop himself, her omega nature would blossom.
And so, despite the exhausting challenge of keeping her hands off herself, Darcy had managed. Night after night, she lay awake, her body tingling with awareness, begging for release—and she'd stayed strong. If only there were awards for this kind of sacrifice, Darcy would deserve a badge of honor.
The thing she really didn't want to think about was that after a few days of this torture, her fantasies of Zeke touching her gave way to even more powerful fantasies of Zeke touching her…as an omega.
The thing Darcy dreaded had somehow become her secret desire—to lose control and give in to pleasure that lasted for days, to beg for it over and over. It would be like a kind of permission, since omegas couldn't help themselves, since their very survival depended on getting laid.
But that didn't mean Darcy wanted it in reality. Becoming an omega would mean becoming a slave to her nature, a nightmare from which she could never escape—being tied to Zeke for the rest of her life, unable to flee or make her own decisions or exercise free will ever again.
It would also mean spending hours and hours in his bed, stroking his broad chest. Memorizing every inch of his tawny, unblemished skin, every hair on his head. Gorging herself on a steady diet of his cock, needing to touch it and taste it and ride it, begging to be touched in return, fucked hard and used for his pleasure over and over.
Darcy's omega fantasies were never gentle. They were full of thrusting and ramming and choking on come, of being manhandled and having her ass slapped, of handprints and bite marks that served as reminders, when Zeke went out to work, of what awaited her on his return.
Darcy throbbed with the constant desire to be filled with his come. To take his knot. To have it throb and pulse inside her, stretching her beyond the limits of what she'd thought possible.
Ruining her for any other man.
Darcy gave a little cry and yanked back her hand, which had crept down between her legs of its own volition as a result of that last thought. Her panties were soaking wet, her nipples hard, her clit throbbing, her heart racing.
She really did need that cold bath now.
>
Darcy had almost arrived at the spring when her fantasies overtook her, and she sank down on a large, flat rock in the sun to let them play out.
It was happening more and more often, Darcy indulging in her forbidden thoughts, only to have to live with the ache of unmet need afterward. Now, she jumped up and ran the rest of the way to the spring, anxious for the icy water to cool her overheated imagination.
She peeled off her shirt and pants, stripping down to just her underwear. She didn't bother easing herself in but plunged into the pool's center, where the water reached all the way to her shoulders.
Darcy gasped as the freezing temperature shocked her system. Goosebumps sprang up all over her arms and legs, and her fingers and toes reflexively clenched.
Damn, it was cold.
Cold enough that, for just a second, she was completely consumed by its sting, leaving no room for her horribly misguided lust for Zeke.
But it didn't take too long for her body to acclimate to the temperature and for her thoughts to come roaring back.
Darcy held her breath, dunked her head under the surface, and stayed down until her lungs screamed for air. When she came back up, she felt a little calmer. She tried to hold onto the feeling by closing her eyes and emptying her mind of everything but the gentle sensation of her body floating in the clear waters.
Suddenly, a sound invaded her serenity—one she hadn't heard in a while. One that was out of place here in the forest.
Surely, she was mistaken. Darcy waded to the edge of the pool and rested her forearms on the smooth rock.
The sound was getting louder. There was no mistaking what it was now: an engine.
Not a car—it wasn't that big or powerful. More likely, it was a motorcycle or an ATV.
It had to be Zeke since the sound was coming from his land, but she wondered why she hadn't heard it before. Maybe he used the vehicle to track bigger game or to reach destinations he wouldn't otherwise be able to. After all, Darcy knew next to nothing about hunting.
Zeke: The Boundarylands Page 8