CHAPTER 18: THE BOILLING POINT
977 Words
Zakk's pov
The back office was suffocatingly quiet. Andre had been locked away in there since yesterday afternoon, meticulously verifying client data. It was the perfect cage for her. We had starved her, and now we had isolated her, forcing her to confront her desperate need for the bond alone.
But the strategy, devised by Zane, was a brutal torment for me.
It was the second full day of Aunt Carol’s visit. I could hear Carol’s high-pitched laugh drifting from the conservatory—a grating, constant reminder of the human barrier separating me from my Mate.
I was technically in the main study, pretending to work on my laptop, but my focus was useless. All my awareness was tuned to the back corridor, where Andre was working. The Mate Bond, now that we were in the same house, was no longer a distant hum; it was a loud, internal scream that made my head ache. I could practically taste her mounting anxiety and her starved wolf's loneliness.
I looked down at my hands. They were clenched so tightly my knuckles were white. The slightest sound—the rustle of paper from the back office, the shifting of her chair—sent a wave of desperate, possessive heat through my system.
I felt Zane’s presence before he spoke. He walked into the study, silent and controlled, carrying two untouched cups of coffee.
"You've been here for three hours," Zane stated, placing one cup on my desk. "Get out of the house. You're going to break."
"I can't leave her," I hissed, keeping my voice low. "She’s at the breaking point. She’s alone in that room, starving. She thinks we’ve abandoned her again."
"That's the point," Zane reminded me, his own voice tight with strain. He was suffering too, but he channeled his pain into logic. "She has to realize that the danger isn't the family finding out; the danger is losing the bond. If you go in there, you destroy the strategy, and we risk everything for a few seconds of relief."
I stood up, pushing back from the desk. My patience was gone. "I don't care about the strategy, Zane. The agony of the absence is over, replaced by the agony of the proximity. I can feel the missing piece of the bond screaming for completion. I can't wait until tomorrow."
I started walking toward the corridor. Zane moved instantly, intercepting me before I reached the door.
"Stop," he commanded, his eyes flashing a rare, dangerous warning. "We agreed. The discipline is necessary. Aunt Carol is due to leave first thing tomorrow morning. We have less than twelve hours."
"Twelve hours is an eternity when your soul is incomplete," I countered, my voice raw. "I'm not going in there to claim her, Zane. I'm going in there to simply touch her. To give her enough of the bond to keep her from collapsing."
He stepped closer, his jaw tight. "If you touch her now, you'll disrupt the strategic isolation. She'll get enough energy to pull back. We need her desperate, Zakk, not merely comforted."
I knew he was right, but the raw, primal demand of my wolf was overriding my human intellect. I turned abruptly and walked toward the kitchen instead, grabbing a bottle of water. I needed to move, to burn off the restless energy.
As I walked through the kitchen, I saw Aunt Carol standing by the island, making a note in a small ledger. I managed a polite nod and kept moving toward the back door.
"Zakk, dear!" Aunt Carol called, her voice cheerful. "Don't rush off! I need a moment with you."
I froze, forcing myself to turn around, pasting a polite, neutral expression on my face. "Yes, Aunt Carol?"
"It's about the security system," she said, leaning in conspiratorially. "I can't seem to reset the code on my luggage lock. I figured since you boys do security..."
The request was mundane, utterly human, and completely irrelevant. But it trapped me. As she chattered on about the faulty luggage lock, my eyes flicked involuntarily toward the closed door of the back office, where Andre was working.
Through the power of the bond, I could sense her. She was anxious. She was restless. And I knew she was thinking about me.
My control finally snapped. I took two silent, stealthy steps toward the office door while Aunt Carol was still babbling about the combination lock. I stopped inches from the door, placing my hand flat against the cool wood.
I closed my eyes and focused all my suppressed energy—the raw, possessive heat of my wolf, the intense hunger of the incomplete Mate Bond—and silently pushed it through the wood. I couldn't touch her, but I could inundate her with my presence.
I heard a small, muffled gasp from inside the room. Success. I had breached her isolation.
"Zakk! Are you listening?" Aunt Carol demanded, irritated by my distraction.
I pulled my hand back instantly, turning to face her. "I'm sorry, Aunt Carol. I'm afraid I'm distracted by the intense need to ensure the security of the property. Let me just..."
I walked quickly past her, avoiding eye contact, and went straight out the back door, needing the cold air to regain my composure. I didn't return until I heard the distinct sound of the garage door closing—Zane must have physically removed Aunt Carol from the house for the afternoon.
The discipline was agonizing, but it was working. I had just risked the entire operation for a moment of desperate contact. But the reaction—the muffled gasp—was worth it.
She was ready. Tomorrow, the waiting would end.
- Writer
