Page 54 of Upon Shattered Bonds

“You knew what would happen if we mated when I’d been too young. You knew it might kill me.” Nina propped Zeke’s chin up to look him in the eye. “You probably saved my life, Zeke. In exchange for your sacrifice, I’ve cursed you.”

“You never cursed me, Nina,” he said. “You never attacked me or my clan. You never made my life hell. You held yourself apart, yes, but it was because you were protecting yourself. I don’t blame you for anything.”

No longer able to hold herself back, Nina captured his mouth with blinding intensity. Overcome with the sting of his sorrow, she couldn’t resist comforting the man who sat before her, so brave yet so broken.

Though he was surprised, Zeke eagerly engaged her. In the next moment, he’d locked his muscular arms around her waist and dragged her into his core. They were two sovereigns who didn’t need to bow to each other, giving in to the voracious hunger that burned so brightly it stung.

Nina’s nails dug into the chiseled musculature of his broad back. It was the first time she’d lost herself to him, and there was nothing like it.

Each kiss they shared echoed through their mating bond. The dual sensations—of his mouth slanting against hers and his desire igniting their link—were sheer bliss. Everything in her threatened to break apart, yet all the same, she knew she could rely on the comforting shelter of his embrace to hold her together.

When he held her, Nina felt safe. And for a woman with a target on her back, it was a dizzying sensation.

Feral with their combined passion, she suddenly couldn’t stand the barrier of Zeke’s shirt between them. With one well-placed tug, it’d shorn in two and fell to the floor. Her fingers traced the clan marks on his right pectoral muscle, his clan mark obsidian against his tanned skin. The contact earned her a sensual growl, a masculine rumble that echoed a similar purr from her.

Drunk on the feel of him beneath her fingertips, she nipped at his bottom lip, then trailed kisses down the corded ridge of his neck and the line of his shoulder.

She realized it was all too possessive, that her mating instincts were propelling her towards completing the bond, and that getting any closer was dangerous.

Zeke raked his hands down her back before yanking her even closer to him. Breathless, hungry, and wild with their need for the other, they rode the punch of power that clung to their link. Though it had strengthened with their proximity, Nina couldn’t yield to it.

The mating bond between them had to remain unfinalized until the question of her survival was answered. Buried deep, the truth remained unsaid: Zeke would accept if she yielded to their union.

The tang of blood became heady, lacing the air with the iron-rich aroma. Groaning, Nina pulled away from her mate to re-examine the wound he’d sustained on her behalf.

Though the stitches had held, it’d started bleeding again. Without asking, she leaned forward and delicately traced her tongue along the bloodied portion of his tricep.

A shudder ran through him. Zeke’s telekinetic power drew the curtains closed, swathing them in darkness. His hand clasped over hers, tugging her toward the bed.

“Let me hold you, mon cœur,” came his offer, a velvety purr.

When she sank into the coolness of the covers, he slid in behind her. His warmth formed a protective cocoon around her, and it felt like coming home.

Chapter Twenty-Three

One of his people was deathly wounded.

Yanking himself from a restful sleep beside his mate, Zeke sent Kaien a telepathic shout of warning. He teleported directly into his injured clansman’s home in Osiris territory. Before he’d even become corporeal, he manifested his dagger in his hand, and engaged his Blunt to ensure he wasn’t detectable.

Someone had infiltrated his territory—a Shield—and had attacked one of his people while they slept. The room was small, with a single twin bed and a nightstand along one wall. The intruder stood over Zeke’s clansman, bloody dagger poised to strike again.

Soundless, Zeke caught the intruder unaware, slicing his jugular from behind. Blood sprayed as the Raeth collapsed before him, and with another blow—this one to the heart—the intruder was dead.

Zeke’s attention shifted to the man gasping in bed. Tzuriel and Hemin arrived only moments after he did, the latter immediately pulsing healing energy into the patient. Tzuriel was already hovering over the attacker’s body, searching for a pulse.

Zeke couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief yet, not when Michael was still in trouble. He knelt beside the stricken man, funneling energy through their bond to speed his rate of recovery.

Hemin was already answering the unspoken question. “It's painful, but he’ll be fine. It wasn’t a merjha.”

Zeke gave him a clipped nod and reassured Michael, “We’re here. We’re not leaving you.” Over his shoulder, he said, “Tzuriel, check the intruder for a clan mark.”

Closing his eyes, Michael allowed the healer to push him into slumber only a minute later.

As Zeke continued to pour energy into the wounded man, he rocked back on his haunches. Detesting the fact that one of his clansmen had been attacked, he cast out his psychic gifts and scanned every square inch of his territory.

Everything was at it should have been. The psychic signatures of his people were familiar and comforting, and no one else was hurt. The only exception to the status quo remained the void along the periphery of his territory, but the ley line was quiet. Nothing would indicate it’d changed shape or size in the time he’d been gone, and he knew his people had kept an eye on it.

Reeling back in his psychic senses, he opened his eyes to find that Michael was fully healed—and he was surrounded by his lieutenants.

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