Werewolves long for the day they meet their mates. For Zane and Alessandra that's not the case. Zane is in love with Alessandra's sister and Alessandra isn't looking for love. Can these stubborn wolves resist the mate bond?
They might deny the bond...
"I would split open my heart with a knife, place you within and seal my wound, that you might dwell there and never inhabit another." -Ibn Hazm
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ZANE DE LUCA
2 Years Ago
Blood drips from my hands as I stare at the man I just slaughtered. I feel no remorse. He should have thought twice before wandering into my pack.
Restlessness has overtaken by life since Alessandra left. It's barely been two months and I'm already losing it. Women help take the pain away. That brief moment of ecstasy after some good sex is what really eases me. Unfortunately, the only face that my brain conjures up as I come is the one I'm trying so desperately to forget.
Alphas have self-control.
My dad's voice rings in my ears and I want to shout at the man. I kill to control myself. I fuck to control myself. I fucking kill my body with grueling workouts just to take my mind off of the woman the goddess assigned me to.
It's not fair. I'm not the kind to bitch about the cards I've been dealt, but I know for a fact that Alessandra only feels a fraction of what I do. It's easier for her to hate me than it is to miss me. Sadly, I do not have the same luxury. What am I supposed to hate the woman for?
I pour myself some bourbon and swipe through the photos Vincenzo had sent me. I told him to keep an eye on her and report back to me. My cousin was reliable but he was also charming and I almost regret assigning him with the task as I take in Alessandra's face. She looks joyful. She hasn't looked that way since she found out we were mates. Jealousy swarms my body as I stare at her laughing with Vincenzo. He had done what I was unable to and a part of me was thankful but a bigger part of me wanted to punch him. I want her to laugh for me, smile for me, only for me.
I drop my phone on my desk and lean back in my chair. Knowing that I made the right decision by sending her to Italy lulls me to sleep and I completely forget about the dead man laying on my floor, surrounded by his own blood.
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