Page 64 of Upon Shattered Bonds

One eyebrow rose in challenge, but the other man’s expression softened before he tentatively strode closer to take a seat on the floor next to his sovereign.

“What happened?”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Zeke huffed, “Nothing happened.”

“We can feel your anger through the clan bonds,” Tzuriel said. “You aren’t fooling anyone.”

He roared in outrage, scrambling to his feet. “What makes you think I give a damn?”

Remaining seated, Tzuriel didn’t take the bait. Studying him, a pitying look tightened the other man’s features as he swayed visibly on his feet, his equilibrium clearly compromised.

“Because you always give a damn, Zeke,” he said. “You always have. Even when you pretend you don’t.”

His anger cooled nominally before he jerked a hand through his hair. Glancing about the havoc of his living room, he began to pace a trail through the litter. Tzuriel sat, patient, as Zeke processed the jumbled mess of his life.

Everything he’d yearned for with Nina, longed for, had been shattered. After all this time, he’d retained a kernel of hope that they’d move past their bitterness and eventually mate. He’d wrongfully believed that the distance she’d laid between them was a result of her resentment, a consequence of his original rejection.

But it’d been a symptom, not a side effect.

Nina had been manipulated by Luther to the point of exploitation. In attempting to do what was right, she’d harmed the very people she was trying to help. Now, she was living with the consequences of her actions—and beating herself up over things she’d used every one of her resources to correct.

When he finally leveled out enough to hold an acceptable conversation—and the buzz in his blood had finally quieted—Zeke whirled to face his cousin. The one person who’d never let him down.

“Nina has rejected me.”

Horror widened Tzuriel’s eyes. “She’s denied you? Or severed the bond?”

Because they were two different things, each resulting in different outcomes. For the first, Nina and Zeke would continue as they always had: separated and living with an unfinalized mating bond.

If it were the latter, it’d kill them both.

Zeke swiftly set the other man at ease. “The bond hasn’t been severed. But at least now, we’ve come to an accord. She knows why I rejected her first; and she explained why she’s rejecting me now.”

“Why, Zeke?”

“Luther.” His hands fisted at his sides, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “He caught her up in the black market without her knowledge, used her for her abilities. She was his victim, as much as all the others.” Zeke met Tzuriel’s gaze. “Her faith in herself is gone, and she’s terrified she’ll end up in the same situation again.”

Tzuriel was quiet. Piercing blue eyes trailed over the floor, searching blindly for something Zeke couldn’t fathom. Taking a deep breath, his cousin asked, “And she does not see in you a support through all this? A partner who could help safeguard her?”

Scoffing, Zeke absently rolled his shoulders, the muscles bunching with strain. “She sees herself as poison, Tzuri. Luther shattered her—how can I hope to fix that?”

“Because that’s what we do—as mates!” The other man was on his feet then, determination sharpening in his gaze. “Regardless of how many shards there are, we pick up the pieces and hold them together. Our mates depend on us for that!”

Feeling inept, Zeke dropped his head back to gaze blindly at the ceiling before reminding his cousin of the past. “I did this. If I hadn’t sent her away when we were young … if I’d protected her …”

Angry now, his cousin grabbed ahold of Zeke’s shoulders, the grip achingly strong. “You aren’t Luther, Zeke. You sent her away to protect her. And what Luther did?” He gave a vitriolic shake of his head. “That was in no way your fault. You couldn’t have known that he would use her, and even if you did, you couldn’t have stopped it.”

“I could’ve killed him.”

“And further poison the waters between you and Nina?” Eyebrows knitting together, Tzuriel cocked his head and looked at the other man with sympathy. “Don’t lie to yourself, Zeke.”

For a second, Zeke held his gaze, desperately trying to accept what his cousin was saying. But the spark of forgiveness was dashed as he recognized the situation for what it was.

Slapping his cousin’s hands off his shoulders, Zeke grimaced. “It doesn’t matter, Tzuriel! She’s rejected me for the final time and she’s still a target. They still want her head on a platter. She’s given up; getting her affairs in order.”

Something changed in Tzuriel’s expression. Behind the inquisitive blue, a myriad of emotions charged his gaze. A pang of suspicion. A tendril of contemplation. A grain of hope.

Suddenly, it was all too much. Zeke stalked away, the fiery indignation returning full force. “Stop looking at me like that.”

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