"I don't want to talk about it."
"And I don't want to live in that bitch's shadow," she shot back. "So let's do ourselves a favor and have this out now. Who was this woman, and what did she do to you?"
Zeke went rigid. He never talked about Stephanie. Not to anyone. He'd rather punch through a solid wall than admit the pain she'd caused.
But he couldn't do that.
Darcy was right. This wasn't just about him anymore. She deserved to know her alpha.
Everything about him.
Besides, putting this off this conversation wouldn't help anything. Now that Darcy was out of her heat, it was time for them to face the consequences of what they'd done.
Zeke took a few deep breaths and leaned against the counter, waiting until he calmed down before speaking.
"Her name was Stephanie," he finally said, the name bitter in his mouth. "She came to the Southeast Boundarylands looking to test her nature. As luck would have it, she was the rare seeker who actually turned out to be an omega."
"Women do that?" Darcy asked, astonished.
"Yeah, some do. They're mostly young women who read those underground erotic forums full of stories about being claimed by an alpha and then 'taming' him."
Zeke spat out the words with disgust. Seeking was both stupid and dangerous. Stephanie had come to him with her head full of that bullshit, but eventually, she realized that his life didn't resemble her romantic fantasy.
By then, it was too late.
"She and a few of her friends came to a bar in the neutral territory," he continued, eager to get the story over with. "We knew what they were after, and we also knew how unlikely it was that any of them were omegas. My friends and I were barely older than pups back then—we figured we could handle fucking around with a few hot betas. But it turned out that not all those girls were betas."
Darcy was silent, her expression inscrutable, and Zeke was grateful that she didn't press for details. He wasn't even sure that he could provide them. It had been an entire damn decade since it happened, after all.
"She changed the second I touched her." Zeke busied himself with getting down another plate and filling it with eggs and bacon, reluctant to face her until he was done with the telling. "I'd never felt anything like it—never felt so strong an urge in my life. I took her to my truck and ended up fucking her right there in the parking lot. Not that she resisted—she practically dragged me out herself."
He risked a glance at Darcy, who was watching him with her familiar look of quiet acceptance. Nothing seemed to faze her; in the weeks they'd spent together, she hadn't judged him.
Unlike Stephanie.
"We spent the next four days at my house. Time disappeared. I thought I had it made." Zeke set the plate in front of Darcy before filling his own. "The trouble started the second that she came out of her heat. She made it clear she didn't like the way I'd treated her, even though she was the one who had thrown herself at me. She didn't like my house or my way of life. She said she'd made a mistake and couldn't live without all the comforts she had back home. She missed electricity. She missed shopping malls."
Darcy looked taken aback. "But I thought alphas and omegas bonded during a heat."
Zeke leaned against the stone hearth across from her. His appetite seemed to have vanished. "Usually they do…but not always. Even if one feels a bond, the other may not. And no matter how strong a bond is, no matter how many heats an omega cycles through with an alpha, only she can initiate the claiming bite that makes the relationship permanent."
"Stephanie never bit you," Darcy said slowly, her expression darkening as comprehension sank in.
"No. Two days after coming out of her heat, she jumped in my truck and took off back to the bar."
"And you let her go?"
"What did you expect me to do? Imprison her in the basement like you accused me of doing?" Zeke's stomach roiled with the memory of her departure. "Besides, if Stephanie had felt any bond between us at all, she wouldn't have been physically capable of leaving. The bond would have kept her with me."
Darcy was watching him closely. She hadn't touched her food, despite being ravenous.
"They tell me she was looking for her friends when she got to the bar," he continued. "But that's not who she found. Instead, she got to talking to my closest friend, a guy named Holt. He must have had something I didn't—bigger truck, nicer house, who the fuck knows—because a week later, they were back at the bar, both with new claiming bites."
"Oh, shit." Darcy seeemed horrified. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. There was nothing I could do except go home and try to keep living. I didn't eat. I barely slept. My land fell into ruin. My alpha brothers began avoiding me." He wiped his hand over his eyes, the memory like an ax to his heart. "Two entire years passed that way, and then one day, a couple of the brothers came to tell me what happened to Stephanie."
"What?" Trepidation filled Darcy's eyes.
"Turned out, she hadn't done any better with Holt than with me," he said. "She'd only grown more and more miserable as time went on, and died by her own hand. Because Holt was her alpha, he couldn't go on after her death and took his own life the next day."
"Oh God, Zeke," Darcy stumbled out of the chair and tried to come to him. Zeke jumped up and caught her just before she fell. He set her back into the chair, but she grabbed his hand and wouldn't let go.
He could have pulled away—but he didn't.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered up at him.
"Don't be. When that happened, I knew something had to change. I bought a train ticket out of the Southeast Boundarylands. They don't let alphas in passenger cars, so I went steerage. I picked up that cot you've been sleeping on for the trip, and came here looking to start over."
"I wondered where that thing came from." Darcy smiled tentatively. "But now …you're afraid that when I get out of bed, it's because I'm going to leave you."
Zeke nodded miserably. "I know you're not Stephanie. But some scars run deep, I guess."
"I get it," Darcy said with conviction. "Truly, I do. I'm sorry you were hurt before, and I know I can be brash and loud, but I don't lie. Ever. So believe me when I say I'm not leaving, Zeke. Not today, or tomorrow—not ever.”
Chapter Sixteen
Zeke said nothing. He disentangled his hand from Darcy’s and his gaze slid away, his expression unchanged.
Then he picked up his plate, walked back into the kitchen, and scraped his uneaten food into the trash. He picked up the pan and began washing it in the sink.
Darcy blinked in confusion at his reaction. Her alpha had just told her a horrible story, one full of pain, one that must have taken a great deal of courage to tell. And she had done her best to reassure him, to give him the words that he needed to hear: that she had absolutely no plans to leave him. That she wasn't going anywhere.
But she wasn't just trying to give him comfort in the moment. What she'd said—it was all true.
Darcy didn't think Zeke fully understood the significance of what had just happened: perpetually-single Darcy Winters, queen of the one-night stand, was declaring her intention to stay with one man, and one man only…forever.
She didn't exactly expect a standing ovation, but a flicker of a smile would have been nice. Really, any response at all would be better than indifference.
Darcy watched Zeke scrub the skillet with more force than necessary, focusing on his task as though she wasn't even in the room. It was clear that she hadn't managed to get through to him, not even after dragging her sore ass out of bed and nearly falling down the steps and breaking her neck. If he'd heard her at all, he was unconvinced.
This, Darcy realized, must be what karma felt like. This was divine retribution for all the sweet talk and false promises she'd made to get what she wanted and get out fast—the one time she desperately needed a man to believe the truth, he couldn't seem to hear it.
Well, karma could suck it. For the first time in Darcy's life, she felt lik
e she truly belonged someplace. Belonged to someone. And she wasn't about to have it ruined by the ghost of some selfish twit who ruined not just her own life, but two others besides.
Darcy gritted her teeth and pushed herself up and out of the chair, her body trembling with the effort. Zeke immediately dropped the pan and rushed to catch her before she could fall.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stay put?" he barked, grabbing her under the arms.
"I wouldn't have to keep getting up if you would stop running away," she retorted. "I just told you—I was honest as I could be and—"
"I need time to think," Zeke cut her off. For a moment, she was suspended, held up by his huge hands, her feet dangling above the floor.
The next moment he swooped her up into his arms.
She couldn't have been more surprised. Zeke was maddeningly hard to figure out and completely unpredictable. No, strike that, Darcy thought. If you paid attention—and she was definitely paying attention—there were clues to what he was thinking. And after spending all this time with him, she had begun to piece together the puzzle.
Stony silence signaled thoughts whirling under the surface. Abrupt action meant he'd come to some kind of a conclusion. And that familiar, hooded look in his eyes meant they would soon be tearing off each other's clothes.
But for the moment, he simply held her, cradling her just as he had before, and the momentary fright he'd given her faded away. She leaned into his warmth, pressing her face to the soft flannel of his shirt and letting her eyes drift closed. She felt so safe in his arms, as though they were surrounded by an invisible shield that would defend them against all danger and harm—and that shield was Zeke himself.
Damn, a girl could get used to feeling this way. She could drink it in every day of her life and never get tired of it.
Darcy knew now that her connection to Zeke, the bond that was only growing stronger with every passing hour, wasn't new. It had been there from the very beginning, starting as a tiny seed that was planted when she first caught sight of him on the side of the road.
Awakening her omega nature had sent the bond’s roots down deep, lodging permanently between them, twining its branches to lock them together. She saw it as clearly as if it was an actual tree, a mighty oak that nothing could destroy.
But now, she needed to make him see.
"You've had ten years to think, Zeke," she said as gently as she could. "Now, it's time to let go of the past and move forward."
"But—"
"No buts." Damn, it felt good to be the one to say that for once. "Why don't you go and draw us a bath?"
His brows shot up. "Us?"
"Yes, us." Darcy did her best to hide her amusement. "There were two of us in that room rutting like wild animals for the past few days, in case you don't remember. We could both use a good scrub."
Of course, there probably wouldn't be a whole lot of scrubbing before they were distracted by other activities. But there was plenty of room in Zeke's huge clawfoot tub for two…even if things got vigorous.
Zeke's consternation gave way to a rumble emanating from deep in his chest as he thought over her proposition. Darcy might not have an alpha's highly tuned senses, but she could tell that a part of him wanted to retreat to the kitchen to brood some more.
But she wasn't about to let that happen. If she couldn't get Zeke to listen to her words, she could for damn sure get him to listen to her body.
"Now, please," she said coyly, pretending to yawn while arching her back to show off her breasts to full effect.
Zeke didn't have to be asked a third time. He carried Darcy up the stairs and laid her down on the bed before stepping into the bathroom to fill the tub. A few seconds later, steam was billowing from the open door.
Darcy took advantage of the time it took to fill the massive tub to peel off the clothes that she'd struggled into only minutes ago. By the time she heard the water shut off, she was back to being naked.
Zeke appeared in the doorway, then froze at the sight of her. His eyes filled with desire, and his breath quickened. A little shiver of delight ran through Darcy's body to see him react that way. Zeke might be a huge-ass alpha who could easily break her in half—but she had the power to stop him in his tracks.
He knew it, too…and evidently, he didn't like it. His scowl deepened, and he looked away.
"You don't have to do this, Darcy. I know you were telling the truth downstairs, that you're not going to leave. I don't need your pity."
"I don't pity you," Darcy said fiercely. "I've never fucked anyone because I pitied them. I do what I want."
She got up from the bed, willing her legs to hold her up, grabbing the bedpost for balance. It might not be the sexiest stance, but she had a point to make.
"And what I want is you, Ezekiel," she continued, speaking slowly and emphasizing every word. "You are the only person I ever want inside me for the rest of my life."
Finally, a spark of heat lit up behind Zeke's eyes. She watched as years of anger and resentment and regret began to fall away, burnt to ash by the roaring fire of the bond between them.
Still, he hesitated.
"Darcy…" His voice was full of pain and heavy with want.
"Don't think," she told him. "Just pick me up, carry me to the tub, and never stop fucking me."
That did the trick.
Zeke moved into the room as the last thread holding him to his past broke, his focus completely on her. He tore off his clothes, and underneath, Darcy saw that he was primed and ready for her.
This time when he picked her up, he wasn't gentle. He crushed her against his body and wrapped her legs around his hips. One hand steadied her back while the other cupped the back of her neck, forcing her mouth to meet his.
He kissed her deeper and harder than ever before. His hunger burned even hotter than in the marathon sessions of fucking during her heat. And he didn't stop when he lowered her into the tub, kissing away her sighs as she sank into the steaming water.
Darcy shivered with pleasure as the warmth seeped through her skin to the sore muscles beneath, renewing her strength and giving her fresh energy.
She had been planning the scene in her mind, the way she would caress him gently with her hands, kneading and washing every inch of his perfect body. He would do the same to her, whispering reverently, building their passion slowly until—
Fuck that. The second Darcy felt the hard length of his shaft against her inner thighs, she knew exactly what she wanted, and there was nothing tender about it.
This was her man, and hers alone. Her alpha.
The past was over. Both for her and for him.
They had all they needed now—each other.
Darcy pressed her lips to Zeke's neck as her slick began to flow, kissing him with growing urgency. This was what he did to her, with his unapologetic raw need, his unbridled masculinity. He took her from zero to frantic in no time at all.
She needed him now.
Darcy let the water lift her and writhed against the tip of his cock. Just like the first time—and the countless times after—her body stretched to take him. The pressure was exquisite, almost more than she could bear.
She moaned at the sensation of him entering her, slowly and steadily forcing his way deeper. More slick poured from her pussy, its scent mixing with the steam and filling the air.
Zeke growled, his head lolling against the edge of the tub as he shifted his hips, taking what she offered.
Fuck. With his eyes half-closed, his lips parted, his hair plastered against his neck—the man was pure sex.
Darcy bit her lip and rode him hard. It only took three strokes for her to take him to the hilt. She quivered with pleasure at the feel of him filling her so completely, so perfectly. It was as though she were a lock that only he could open, each stroke of his cock spinning the tumblers into place.
Darcy knew she couldn't hold back much longer. She grabbed the sides of the tub and ground against him, begging for more. Us
ing every last bit of her strength, she took them both higher—higher until she was shaking so hard she couldn't control her movements any longer.
That's when Zeke took over, grabbing her by the hips, guiding her up and down his cock, fucking her in long, hard thrusts.
Darcy came, crying out his name. Then she came again. And again.
Zeke.
Ezekiel.
Zeke.
Through the fog of her ecstasy, she felt his fingers tighten around her hips. His thrusts splashed water as he moved faster, harder.
Fuck, yes.
Zeke's knot began to swell inside her, and now she was screaming his name, her head falling against his shoulder. Something was different. A need, unlike anything she'd felt in her life, took root deep inside her, a powerful wave of instinctive craving.
In that blistering moment, his cock wasn't enough. Not even his knot was enough. She could take his come—all of it—but she needed more.
Zeke's knot had swelled almost to the point of pain inside her, pushing Darcy past reason to a place where nothing mattered but taking what she wanted.
She closed her eyes and opened her mouth.
What she wanted was all of him, inside and out, forever and ever.
Darcy bit down, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as she felt Zeke's cock jerk inside her. His roar shook the room as he filled her with wave after wave of hot come, sending water crashing over the side of the tub.
A moment later, he pushed her head to the side. His mouth clamped on to her shoulder. Then Darcy felt the glorious pain of his own bite.
Chapter Seventeen
It was past noon when Darcy finally collapsed, exhausted, in Zeke's arms. The water in the tub would have cooled to an uncomfortable temperature if it weren't for the heat generated by their bodies.
Still, even an alpha's skin puckered if exposed to water for too long, and Zeke's fingertips were as wrinkled as prunes when he lifted Darcy out of the water and settled her back into the bed.
"Put something on that," were Darcy's last, sleepy words before falling into a deep sleep—and Zeke did, even though he knew that the bite would heal just fine on its own. He'd even bandaged up hers before covering her with a quilt.
Zeke: The Boundarylands Page 11