Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

31
CALLUM
The tip of my pencil moves against the page in quick, sure, strokes as a Nine Inch Nails song blasts through my earbuds, a
heavy guitar rift drilling into my skull. The eyes I’m currently drawing are etched into my memory; surrounded in a fan of long,
dark lashes and brimming with sadness. I wish I’d never seen that sorrowful look in her eyes. I wish even more that I wasn’t the
one who put it there. And I wish I wasn’t stuck in a masochistic loop of drawing her eyes like this over and over again, forcing
myself to confront the cruel consequences of my actions.
Sketching used to be my escape. Now, it’s my penance.
I’m so in the zone that I’ve tuned out everything around me- I don’t even realize someone is knocking on my apartment door until
the pounding grows more insistent, rattling the door on its hinges and causing pples to form in my water glass beside me. yank
out one of my earbuds, jerking my ead up to stare warily in the direction of the oor.
Whoever’s banging their fist against the >ther side clearly isn’t going away, and my nind immediately conjures up the worst- case
scenario of who it could be. Fuckface has been blowing up my phone since I got back into town. I’m sure he’s figured out by now
that I never put in a good word for Spence with our alpha before leaving, and he’s no doubt pissed about me failing to follow
orders like a good little soldier. I wish I could avoid the guy forever like the plague he is, but he always seems to find a way to
track me down.
I have half a mind to keep ignoring the knocking at my door, hoping he’ll just go away, and I even go so far as to pick up my
earbud and start to slip it back into my ear. Before I do, though, I hear a voice call out that stops me in my tracks.
Her voice.
“Callum? I know you’re in there.”
My breath catches, my pulse skyrocketing.
I tear my other earbud out, tossing them both onto the side table and shooting to my feet. My sketchbook and pencil clatter to the
floor, but I hardly even notice until I’m stumbling over them, nearly tripping over my feet in my haste to get to my apartment door.
I can’t get it open fast enough; my heart pounds at a chaotic rhythm as I fumble with the lock, nearly tearing the door from its
hinges when I finally get it open.

The girl on the other side looks like a goddamn angel descended from heaven and dropped on my doorstep. Her light blue
sundress contrasts with her glowing bronze skin, her dark hair swept back in a casual ponytail and her face makeup free. I swear
Nessa has never looked more beautiful than she does right now standing in front of me, brown eyes wide and puffy lips slightly
parted on a sharp intake of breath when our gazes meet.
She’s here.
I don’t know why or what it means, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Stunned into silence, I step aside and
gesture for her to come in, her sweet floral and cherry scent assaulting my senses as she glides past me into my apartment.
I kick the door closed, my eyes glued to Nessa as she wanders further inside, then spins around to face me.
“I thought you might want this back,” she says, and only then do I realize that she’s got my sketchbook clutched to her chest,
grasping it so tightly that her knuckles are white.
“You can keep it,” I mutter, shoving my hands into the pockets of my low-hanging sweats and striding toward her with jerky steps.
“There’s plenty more where that came from.”
She arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “How many more?”
I shrug, gesturing to the stack of sketchbooks on the small table beside the recliner. “Take your pick.”
Nessa eyes the stack with curiosity, shuffling closer and running her fingers along the spines. “Are all the drawings like these
ones?” she asks, depositing the book she carried in on the top of the stack and tapping the cover with a silver-painted fingernail.
I swipe a hand over my chin, eyes roaming over her form appreciatively before meeting her own again. I probably shouldn’t be
checking her out right now, but fuck, I can’t help myself. She’s gorgeous. “I told you before that you were my muse.”
She turns away before I can read her reaction, sidestepping to peer up at the array of drawings taped to the wall instead. ” I need
to know, Callum,” Nessa murmurs, her back turned to me. She suddenly spins around, her eyes blazing with fierce determination
as they lock with mine. “No, I deserve to know. After putting me through hell, the least you can do is tell me the real reason why
you left.”
I heave a sigh, pinching my eyes closed and raising a hand to rub my temple. “I want to, but...”
“No,” she interrupts. Nessa moves toward me, eating up the distance between us in a few quick strides until she’s close enough
to touch. She stares up at me in demand, pressing a palm to my chest, right over my pounding heart. “No more excuses. The

truth, this time.”
Her touch has me tongue-tied. I don’t respond, and my hesitation causes her demeanor to shift. She rips her hand away, and I
immediately ache from the loss of her contact. Her eyes flare in desperation and she folds her arms over her chest protectively.
“Don’t you think I deserve to know?” she asks, a sharp edge to her voice that betrays her emotions. “Why’d you say you loved
me only to walk out on me? Was I not enough for you? Was I not worth sticking around for?”
I reach for her instinctively, my hands landing on her biceps and pulling her closer. “Not enough?!” I scoff angrily, hating her
insinuation. “You’re more than enough. You’re fucking everything, Nessa.”
She wrenches her arms out of my grasp, stepping back with fresh tears shining in her eyes. “Then why, Callum? Why’d you
leave me?!”
The pain in her voice slices through me, awakening an instinctive need to soothe it away. Without thinking, I move forward again,
wrapping my arms around Nessa and yanking her into my chest. She doesn’t resist or struggle; instead, her body melts into
mine, every soft curve of her meeting every hard edge of me. She buries a muffled sob in my t-shirt and I hold onto her even
tighter.
“I’m sorry,” I choke, pressing my lips to the crown of her head. “So fucking sorry. I should’ve stayed. I know that now.”
For the past four months, I’ve ached to hold Nessa like this. I wish it was under different circumstances; that she was happy,
rather than wetting my shirt with her tears. I soak up every second that I have her in my arms, though, because it could very well
be the last time. I’ve already resolved to come clean, and after what I’m about to tell her, she may never let me get this close to
her again.
She allows me to hold her for another minute or two before she starts to wriggle away. Reluctantly, I relinquish my grip, my
fingertips trailing down her arms until I take her hands in mine. Then they slip away.
“You’re right,” I say, my shoulders. slumping in defeat. “You deserve to know.
But you aren’t going to like what you hear.”
I shuffle backwards to sink down onto the sofa and she takes the seat beside me, looking to me expectantly. I try to memorize
the way she’s looking at me right now. Her eyes are so wide, so vulnerable. She doesn’t know the truth of who I am yet, and
once she does, I have a feeling she’ll never open herself up to me again like she is right now.
What’s that they say- the truth will set you free?

For me, the truth feels like a death sentence. I can’t see a life worth living without the girl beside me in it.
I drag in a labored breath, rubbing my hands over my face and fighting against my frayed nerves. It’s time to man up and tell her,
even if that means nothing will ever be the same.
I’ve already fucked things up beyond repair, so what’s one more nail in my coffin?
“Last year, there was a party up at the lodge,” I begin, diving right in. Nessa’s eyes stay trained on me as I recount the same
story I told Chase, and even though it’s a special kind of torture to see her reaction play out on her face, I don’t look away. I
watch as she takes it all in, and when I get to the part about how I killed the woman from Boulder with my bare hands, she sucks
in a sharp gasp of alarm. Still, she stays. She listens. She doesn’t interrupt me, and I go on. I tell her how Alpha Vaughn handled
it and how Troy held it over my head after his death.
“When we went to that dinner at my parents ‘house, Troy reminded me of what I’d done,” I grind out, my throat tightening. ” He
reminded me that it could happen again, to you, and I just... fuck, I knew I couldn’t put you at risk like that, Ness.”
A long pause hangs between us as she digests my confession.
“That’s why you left,” Nessa whispers.
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I decided that night that I had to. It was the only way to make sure that what
happened to her wouldn’t happen to you. I’d never fucking forgive myself if I lost control with you like that.”
Nessa worries her lower lip between her teeth, wringing her hands in her lap. “But the full moon...”
“Made it so much harder to do what I had to,” I grumble, shaking my head. “It killed me to walk away that night, but even the
mate bond didn’t change the risk of staying.
I had to leave to protect you from me.”
She stares at me with wide eyes while I absently trace a fingertip over the little heart she tattooed on my wrist. “Do you get it
now? Why we can’t be together?”
“No.” Nessa pushes up off the couch, pacing away. She takes a few steps, then turns sharply and paces toward me again. I
watch as she goes back and forth, practically seeing the wheels in her head spinning. I lean forward to rest my elbows on my
knees, burying my face in my hands as I listen to her footsteps treading against the vinyl flooring.

Suddenly they stop, and I lift my head to find her standing right in front of me, her arms folded tightly over her chest and her eyes
rounded in sincerity. “You’d never hurt me,” she says resolutely. “Not physically. I know you wouldn’t. But leaving without a word?
That hurt, Callum. It hurt so much.”
I rise to my feet, reaching out to gather her in my arms. She falls into them, fisting my shirt and burying her face in my chest.
“You said you loved me,” she whimpers, her voice muffled.
I grit my teeth, holding her close. Hating the fact that I walked out on her and caused so much damage. The pain laced in her
words makes something inside me crack open and bleed, and I just wish I knew how to fix it. How to make it better. “I still do,
Ness,” I admit, feeling the thump of her heartbeat against my body, matching the steady thrum of my own. “I never fucking
stopped.”
She pulls back, sniffling, and I cup her face with both hands, angling it up to mine and staring deeply into her eyes. “I love you,
but I’m a fucking monster.”
“You’re not,” she breathes, covering my hands with her own and shaking her head. ”
You made a mistake. That doesn’t make you a monster. I know you, Callum.”
Fuck, there’s that wide-eyed idealism. Her way of seeing the good in everyone. I don’t deserve it.
I blow out a breath, leaning down to press my forehead against hers. “You’re too good, you know that?” I grumble, sweeping the
pad of my thumb over her lower lip. I sigh, my eyes sliding closed. “You deserve better.”
I open my eyes to stare directly into hers. She knows the truth now, but she’s still right here. The fated bond between us is gone,
but
we’re still connected in some deep, meaningful way, like our souls still call to one another, her light drawn to my dark and vice
versa. It doesn’t make sense. We don’t make sense. But fuck if I don’t want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
We keep staring at one another for a long moment, drifting closer until our lips are a whisper apart. We both stop short there,
lingering on the precipice, breathing each other’s air. Neither of us daring to be the first to cross that line.
Then, in perfect synchronicity, we collide. My lips slam against hers, my hands diving into her hair to tug her closer. Her hands
grasp the back of my neck, fire flooding my veins as her lips part and her tongue finds mine. The kiss is messy, hungry,

desperate. It’s like we’re both starving, bent on devouring one another, lips sliding urgently and tongues tangling recklessly.
Kissing this girl is fucking everything.
It feels like coming home.
I stumble backwards, pulling her with me, and when the backs of my calves collide with the sofa, we both go down in a tangle of
limbs. Somehow I manage to catch us, barely breaking the kiss as I roll my body on top of hers lengthwise on the couch. Her
thighs part, my hips nestling between them as she grabs my face and yanks my lips back to hers greedily. I kiss her harder, like I
fucking mean it, swallowing her responding moan.
I feel a zap of electricity somewhere deep in my chest, a spark of chaotic energy flaring for a millisecond. A glimmer of
something familiar; something I’d thought was gone forever.
Nessa gasps against my mouth, her palms pushing at my chest to shove me back. Her eyes meet mine, wide with alarm. “Did
you feel that?”
Fuck, she felt it too?
My throat tightens, my mind reeling. All I can do is nod in affirmation.
Her eyes widen further, a mixture of confusion and excitement swimming in them. “Do you think...?”
“I don’t know,” I reply quickly.
We both just stare at each other for a long moment, held captive in one another’s gaze. Both breathing heavily and silently
struggling to make sense of what just happened.
I’m the first to move, rocking backwards and freeing her to scramble out from underneath me. Despite the awkward position,
Nessa does it gracefully, smoothing her dress down over her thighs and swiveling to set her feet on the floor. Her ponytail is
hanging crookedly to one side of her head, her lips swollen from the intensity of our kisses, but I can’t even fully appreciate her
adorably disheveled appearance right now- not when a thousand questions are pinging around in my brain.
Her own confusion is apparent in her expression, reality slamming back into both of us like a ton of bricks. That kiss happened in
the heat of the moment, but things between us still remain unresolved. Though everything’s out in the open now, there’s still the
issue of whether I trust myself enough to be with her. If we can work past that, then there’s also the issue of whether she’d even

consider taking me back after everything I put her through. And who could forget the issue of my neighbor down the hall who
may also be her current boyfriend?
“I should go,” Nessa breathes, rising to her feet and adjusting the straps of her sundress on her shoulders. “I think I need some
time to think about everything.”
“Yeah, I get it.” I shove up from the couch, raking a hand through my hair. The air in the room is suddenly thick with tension.
She goes to breeze past me, but I reach out to capture her hand. She sucks in a breath, eyes colliding with mine.
“I’ll call you,” I say, giving her hand a little squeeze before releasing it.
She nods, skirting past me and heading for the door.
Even after I watch her leave, I’m frozen in place, my mind reeling. Most of all, I’m trying to make sense of that strange jolt of
energy we both clearly felt.
It shouldn’t be possible, but... what if it is?