Blexyn
Blexyn's Book(1)
Claimed by the rogue Alpha
Adventure The Border Between Love and War
Kenzo didn't return to the apartment right away. He couldn't. The blood in his veins was buzzing with rage, his wolf pacing, but there was no stimulus to let all that rage out. He walked the shadowy streets, past the dank alleys----you could smell the damp, crumbling concrete--, and the sputtering neon signs barely illuminating the way. Every muscle in his body was wound tight, his hands itching to hit something, anything, but there was nothing he could hit.
Since that battle had been lost the instant Victoria cut that deal.
You turn the corner, you go into an old bar -smelling like cigarettes and sweat and fucking regret. He squeezed inside, shoulders tight, the warmth of too many bodies crowding around him, the low hum of conversation by the floor shaking the air. A few gazes lifted to him, realizing who he was, still no one approached. Good. He wasn't very sociable at this time.
Kenzo marched straight to the counter and banged a hand down. "Whiskey. Neat."
The bartender didn't ask why, just poured it and slid it over. Kenzo snatched it up, drank half in a gulp, the burn doing nothing to relieve the fire burning through him.
She didn't even know what she had done.
Or maybe she did. Perhaps that was the worst of it. Maybe she knew precisely what she was risking - knew precisely what she had given Damon - and did it anyway.
A chair scraped next to him, and even before he registered and looked up, he knew who it was.
Caleb.
"I knew I'd find you here," Caleb said, signaling for his own drink.
Kenzo exhaled sharply. "Did she send you?"
Caleb snorted. "Please. She knows better." He reclined back, inspecting Kenzo closely. "I came because I thought somebody should be here to keep you from doing something stupid."
Kenzo turned the glass around between his fingers. "She played us."
"Nope," Caleb said, shaking his head. "She played herself."
Kenzo frowned. "What does that mean?"
Caleb sighed in frustration, dragging a hand down his face. "You think Victoria wanted to strike that deal? You think she's all happy about that?" He shook his head. "No, man. She's trapped. Just like the rest of us."
Kenzo clenched his jaw. "She didn't need to present herself."
"No," Caleb agreed. "But she did. And now she has to deal with it. Just like you do."
Kenzo squeezed the glass tight. "You think I'm just going to sit back and let Damon take her?"
Caleb met his gaze. "No. But you need to figure out what the hell you're gonna do about before you storm the hell out like some reckless fool."
Kenzo didn't answer. Because he lacked a plan. He just had rage.
Caleb sighed. "Look, I get it. You care about her. More than you would want to admit to."
Kenzo's fingers twitched, but he denied it.
Caleb smirked. "That's what I thought."
Kenzo let out a low growl. "It doesn't matter. She's not mine to protect."
Caleb considered him for a long moment, then drained his drink. "Yeah? I love you, so why are you so damn mad?"
Kenzo also didn't have an answer for that.
Victoria sat on the bed edge, staring blankly at the wall, her fingers tensing and relaxing in her lap. The apartment was too quiet. Too still. She felt Kenzo's absence like a physical thing, as if a part of her had been torn out.
She had known he would be angry. She had prepared for it. But she hadn't anticipated how he would have looked at her. Like she had betrayed him. Like she had broken something between them that would never be fixed.
She forced herself to breathe and swallowed hot air. This was the only way.
It had to be.
The alternative was worse.
A knock on the door jolted her, and for an instant she thought it was Kenzo, that he had returned, that he had figured out a way to forgive her. But when she opened it, it wasn't Kenzo who was there.
It was Damon.
Her heart clenched. "What are you doing here?"
Damon grinned as he pushed through the door without waiting to be let in. "What, no warm welcome? I'm wounded."
Victoria folded her arms, refusing to back down. "I told you I'd come back to you when the time was right."
Damon cocked his head, observing her. "Yes. But I'm impatient."
Victoria swallowed. "That wasn't the deal."
Damon touched her, sweeping hair from her face. "No, sweetheart. You were the deal."
Her stomach curled, but she didn't flinch. "That doesn't mean you get to choose when."
Damon's eyes darkened. "Are you sure about that?"
Victoria's heart raced, but she made herself meet his gaze, to not back down. "Yes."
And for a moment neither of them moved. The air in the room grew taut, a thread between them pulled so tight that it could break. Then, finally, Damon laughed, retreating.
"I like you, Victoria," he said, silky, dangerous. "You've got bite."
Victoria didn't respond.
Damon smirked. "Enjoy your freedom while you have it. Because when I call for you..." His eyes glimmered. "You will come."
And then he was gone, just like that, leaving nothing but the ghost of his presence behind.
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