Chapter 34 Chapter 34: The Weight of Mercy
Chapter 34 Chapter 34: The Weight of Mercy
POV: Sam
“It means you’re mine.”
Marcus’s voice was low and rough, sounding as though it had been dragged across broken glass. His forehead hovered mere inches from mine, his breath a warm, steady ghost against my lips. The word mine sank straight through my chest and settled deep inside—heavy, terrifying, and undeniably right.
I pulled back just enough to look into his face. My shoulder burned where he had freshly cleaned the wound, but that physical ache was nothing compared to the sudden heat flooding through the bond. It felt like liquid gold rushing beneath my skin, an irresistible undercurrent pulling me toward him whether I wanted it or not.
Weak morning light filtered through the rain-streaked windows of his private study. I had no memory of falling asleep last night. One moment Marcus was explaining the mechanics of the bond, and the next, I was waking up alone in my own bed—my body aching, every bruise screaming in protest. Now, standing here with him, my heart hammered so violently against my ribs I was certain he could hear it.
Marcus clearly hadn’t slept at all. Heavy, dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his golden eyes. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled back, exposing the thick, jagged scars scoring his forearms. He had the look of a man who had spent the entire night fighting a brutal urge to tear the city apart.
“Tell me,” I said, my voice still hoarse and raw from yesterday’s ordeal. “What the bond really is. No more half-answers.”
He studied me for a long, silent second. Then, he crossed the room to the heavy oak desk, leaning back against the edge with his arms folded. The movement put physical distance between us, but it did nothing to ease the tension; the bond stretched tight across the gap, humming with vibrant energy.
“It’s an ancient blood pact,” he said finally. “Older than any of the packs currently running this city. Our fathers bound our family lines long before either of us were born. When it awakened… it tied our souls together. What you feel, I feel. Your fear. Your pain. Your…” He paused, his jaw flexing tight. “Your desire.”
A fierce heat rushed up my neck. Unable to hold his gaze, I looked away, staring out the window
Marcus continued, his tone dropping quieter. “It means if you’re hurt, I bleed with you. If you’re ever in danger, I will always know. And when we finally—” He cut himself off, swallowing the rest of the sentence. “Even without the bond, Sam, I would still protect you. I chose that the night your father died. The bond only made it impossible to ignore.”
Silence filled the spaces of the room. My hands shook at my sides, so I clenched them into tight fists and forced myself to meet his eyes again.
“It started that night,” I whispered, the confession tearing from me. “In the bathing pool. I walked in and saw you… and everything changed. I couldn’t look away. I know I should’ve been disgusted. You’re my uncle. My guardian. But all I felt was this heat. This… need. Every time you’re close, my body reacts before my brain can even catch up. I hate it. But I can’t stop it, either.”
The admission hung heavily in the air between us. My face burned with shame. I braced myself for him to look away in disgust, to get angry, or to tell me I was just confused. Instead, Marcus pushed off the desk and closed the distance between us. His scent—a heady mix of cedar, smoke, and something darker—wrapped completely around me.
“I know,” he said simply.
“You know?”
His hand lifted, the backs of his knuckles brushing gently along my jawline. “I felt it too. The exact same night. That pull nearly broke my control entirely.”
My breath caught in my throat. Part of me wanted to lean directly into his touch; another part wanted to bolt for the door. I stayed frozen right where I was, my heart slamming wildly.
“Does Elena know?” I asked, the reality of our world crashing back in.
Marcus shook his head. “No. And we’re keeping it that way for now.”
“But what if she finds out?” My voice cracked, laced with sudden panic. “What about the pack? What about Silas and everyone at school? They’ll look at me like I’m sick. I’m not just… not just into guys. I’m into you. My dead father’s half-brother. The man who owns half this city. How the hell am I supposed to explain that to anyone?”
Desperate for air, I stepped backward until my spine hit the rigid edge of a tall bookshelf. “People already whisper about me. They call me the weak omega nephew. Now they’ll say I’m spreading my legs for my uncle just to stay safe. I can’t—”
“Stop.”
Marcus crossed the remaining space in two long strides. His large hand caught mine, his grip firm and unyielding but completely devoid of pain. He pulled me forward until our chests nearly collided, and I could feel the raw heat rolling off his skin. His eyes blazed a brilliant, fierce gold.
“I don’t give a fuck what they think,” he growled, the vibration rumbling in his chest. “Not Elena. Not the pack. Not your friend Silas. Not a single soul in this city. Let them talk. Let them stare. You are mine to protect. Mine to want. And I am not hiding it forever.”
His thumb stroked softly over my knuckles. The gentleness of the gesture was at complete odds with the volatile power vibrating through his frame. For the first time, I saw something fracture in his iron expression—something that looked dangerously like vulnerability.
“You’re better than this world, Sam. That’s the reason you didn’t pull the trigger on Draven. I was angry yesterday… but I’m proud of you for it. Please stay exactly that way. Even if it drives me insane.”
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I blinked them back with everything I had.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I admitted, my voice dropping to a fragile whisper. “Everything is just too much right now. The bond, Draven still being out there, Elena, school, this… us. Maybe I should move out for a little while. Just to clear my head. I can focus on my classes and get some distance from all of this.”
The words had barely left my lips before Marcus’s grip tightened instantly. He yanked me flush against him, one powerful arm banding around my waist while his other hand slid up to cup the back of my neck. Our bodies pressed together entirely. Beneath my palms, I could feel his heart pounding just as frantically as my own.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said against my hair, his voice low, dark, and utterly final. “We do this together. No running. No distance. You belong here. With me.”
My hands moved automatically, fisting tightly into the fabric of his shirt. The bond flared so brightly between us that I gasped out loud, a sudden spike of heat pooling low in my stomach. His breath brushed the shell of my ear, sending a violent, full-body shiver traveling down my spine.
“Marcus…”
He tilted my chin upward, forcing me to look at him. Our mouths were so close I could almost taste him on the air. The tension in the room crackled like lightning right before a strike. His golden eyes dropped down to my lips, dark with unadulterated hunger.
Just as he began to close the final inch between us, his phone rang sharply from the desk.
Marcus froze. The shrill sound cut through the heavy atmosphere like a blade. He didn't let go of me, but his jaw clenched so hard I saw the muscle jump beneath his skin.
The phone continued to ring.
Matteo.
I knew who it was before he even looked at the screen. The devil’s favor was calling in.
Marcus’s eyes never left mine as he reached out with his free hand, picking up the phone and bringing it to his ear.
“Talk,” he answered, his voice rough, dangerous, and dripping with venom, even as his arm remained locked tight around my waist.