Claimed By The Alpha Twins

Twisted Threads

SARA:

The kiss shifted in a split second, burning away every drop of hesitation between us.

Zayne’s hand tightened in my hair, his fingers tangling into the strands as he yanked me down flat onto the soft mattress beneath him. He hovered over me, his massive frame blocking out the light of the fire, his mouth pressing against mine with a fierce, ravenous hunger that sent a shockwave straight to my toes. The split mate bond roared to life under my skin, wild and demanding, drowning out every voice in my head that told me to stop.

Lost in the heat, my hands flew up to his broad frame, my palms sliding over his bare chest before coming to rest firmly against his shoulders to pull him closer.

Zayne flinched violently, a harsh, guttural groan tearing from his throat.

The spell broke instantly.

Realization hit me like a splash of ice water. My hands snapped back, my eyes flying open to see his jaw locked tight, sweat glistening on his forehead as fresh blood seeped through his left shoulder.

"I'm sorry… " I gasped, scrambling backward on the bed as panic cleared the haze in my mind. "I'm so sorry, Zayne!"

"Sara... wait," he growled, his voice thick and raspy as he tried to push himself up, but the silver poison in his wound made his arm buckle slightly.

"Don't move," I said, my voice trembling as I slid off the edge of the mattress and dropped to my knees beside the nightstand. I grabbed a fresh roll of gauze and antibacterial ointment, forcing my hands to stop shaking as I wiped away the crimson streaks and wrapped the clean bandages tightly around his shoulder. "You need to rest. The silver is still in your system, and if you keep pushing yourself, it won't heal."

Zayne watched me silently, his icy blue eyes dark with unexpressed words, but he didn't try to pull me back into his lap.

"Take some rest, Alpha," I whispered, stepping away from the bed before the magnetic pull between us could drag me under again.

I turned and practically fled his quarters, slipping through the dark, quiet corridors of the estate until I reached my family's suite.

The same suffocating silence hung inside the house like a heavy fog. My mother looked up from the dining table, her eyes red-rimmed and eager to speak, but she kept her lips pressed tight, her eyes darting nervously toward the closed door of the study. My father didn't even come out to greet me. The quiet rejection cut straight through my heart, making the air in the house feel too thick to breathe.

I spent a restless night tossing and turning, haunted by the memory of Zayne's lips, the agonizing silver burn on his shoulder, and the cold distance in my father's eyes.

When morning finally broke, I picked at a light breakfast in near total isolation before fleeing the house again. I needed air. I needed space where the walls didn't feel like they were closing in on me.

I made my way down to the territory garden, a secluded, glass-roofed sanctuary hidden near the eastern edge of the estate. Lush evergreen ferns, blooming winter flora, and high glass archways provided a rare patch of peace away from the heavy boots of guard patrols and the dark glare of council elders.

I stood near a row of frost-kissed white roses, leaning my hands against the stone planter as I tried to organize the chaotic storm inside my head.

"You're up early," a smooth, dangerous voice drawled from behind me.

I spun around, my pulse jumping into my throat.

Kyle was leaning casually against the iron framework of the greenhouse entrance, his arms crossed over his chest. A lazy, dangerous smirk played on his lips, but his sharp amber eyes locked onto mine with a calculated intensity that made the split mate bond beneath my skin flare right back to life.