CHAPTER 7: THE LINGERING AFTER SHOCK
887 Words
Andre's pov
I woke up feeling raw, exhausted, and profoundly violated by my own reckless actions. The scent of cedar was still clinging to the sheets, and the memory of Zane’s mouth and hands—the brutal, intoxicating power of the Mate Bond when it was finally unleashed—sent a wave of shame washing over me. I had broken the wall, and now the entire house felt contaminated by our secret.
Sarah’s cheerful call from downstairs, "Breakfast is ready, Andre!" snapped me back to the unbearable reality of the morning. How could I face them? How could I sit across from Zane, knowing what had transpired, knowing he now possessed a secret key to my body and my hidden nature?
I eventually gathered enough nerve to get dressed. When I reached the dining room, I kept my eyes glued to the floor, navigating the distance as if stepping through a minefield. The minute I entered, the atmosphere changed.
I felt his presence before I saw him. Zane was already at the table, quiet, perfectly composed in a button-down shirt, sipping coffee. When my eyes briefly flicked up and met his, a powerful tingle shot down my thighs, an immediate, searing reminder of his touch just hours before. I quickly averted my gaze, pulling out a chair as far away from him as possible—next to Henry, on the opposite side of the table.
"I see you're still determined to sit away from the boys, dear," Sarah sighed, her smile strained. She reached over and touched Henry’s arm. "She's just getting used to the arrangement, honey. Don't take it personally."
If only she knew. I hated that Sarah interpreted my physical distance as lingering resentment for the marriage, not the frantic guilt of being a werewolf who had just consummated a secret bond with her new step-son.
I kept my head down, picking at a piece of toast. I avoided Zane completely, but I couldn't avoid the man sitting directly across from me: Zakk.
Unlike Zane, who was maintaining a careful, restrained neutrality, Zakk was actively observing. He wasn't participating in the breakfast conversation. His eyes moved between Zane's quiet, controlled profile and my flushed, downcast face with sharp, unnerving focus.
He didn't need the physical proof. The energy between Zane and me—the residual heat of the Mate Bond, the nervous tension—was visible to him, amplified by his own wolf nature and his twin connection.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, and it was directed at the room, but the meaning was directed at Zane and me.
"The house is a little tense this morning," Zakk commented, taking a slow sip of his coffee. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes challenging Zane. "Did something happen during the night that I missed?"
The question hung in the air, a perfectly plausible social query that was, in reality, a direct accusation.
Zane’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He finally looked at Zakk and met the challenge head-on. "Just a restless night, brother. Nothing worth discussing at the table."
Zakk held his gaze for a long moment, a tiny, knowing smirk touching the corner of his mouth before he looked away, settling his attention on me. He didn't make a comment, didn't touch me, but his gaze felt like a heavy, possessive hand resting on my thigh. He was acknowledging the secret without ever saying a word.
The sight of Zakk watching me, suspicious, hungry, and radiating a suppressed energy that was nearly identical to the power I felt from Zane, sent a different kind of tremor through me. It was not just the shame of Zane’s intimate touch, but a rising, undeniable curiosity. The bond was still incomplete. The bond was with them.
Later that day, as I tried to distract myself in the living room, Zakk appeared in the archway. He didn't come in. He simply leaned against the frame, looking like a predator waiting for his quarry to tire.
"You smell better today, Andre," he drawled, his eyes dark.
I snapped my book shut, my heart pounding. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you do," he countered, pushing off the frame and walking slowly toward me. "The scent of fear is gone, replaced by the scent of satisfaction. Zane is a good boy. He always finishes what he starts."
He stopped just a foot away, forcing me to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
"But the bond is with two," Zakk reminded me, his voice a low, irresistible demand. "And you still haven't acknowledged the full truth." He reached out, and this time, there was no hiding the intent. His fingers brushed the hair at the nape of my neck, sending shivers racing down my spine.
"Your wolf is still hungry, Andre. You can't feed half of a pack."
The touch was brief, electric, and powerful enough to make me moan softly. He didn't push for more. He merely smiled, a predatory, victorious flash of white teeth, and then walked away, leaving me trembling and alone with the devastating truth: I was already craving the touch of the second brother zakk
- Writer
