Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

40
CALLUM
I don’t typically get nervous. Agitated and pissed off, sure. Annoyed, definitely. But nervous? It’s not a frequent state for me, at
least it wasn’t until recently.
Since I returned from the mission, it’s like
I’ve lived in a constant state of
apprehension. Coming clean about my past and trying to win Nessa back came with a heavy dose of nerves, as did confronting
Troy, but after successfully navigating all of that, I thought I was finally in the clear. Troy was exiled last week. Nessa has
remained by my side, and we’re closer than ever. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been more at peace that I have been this
week, but now here I am again, a fumbling, uneasy bundle of nervous energy as I walk with Nessa up to the front door of her
family’s house.
“You’ve already won me over, but now you
have to win my parents.”
That’s what Nessa said when she invited me to this dinner, and my anxiety has been on overdrive since. I’ve never been great
with parents, and the thought of coming face to face with these people after I abandoned
their daughter and broke her heart has me feeling physically ill. Sure, we’re back together now, but that doesn’t undo my past
mistakes. Nessa may be giving me a clean slate, but I doubt her parents will be as forgiving.
“You ready?” Nessa asks, pausing with her hand on the knob of the front door and looking back at me with an encouraging smile.
I blow out a breath, nodding slowly. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I mumble past the lump in my throat.
She leans in, cupping my jaw in a palm and brushing her lips against mine. “You’ll be fine,” she reassures. Her touch and scent
send a wave of calm rushing through me, but then Nessa twists the knob to open the front door and I follow her inside, stepping
into a scene that can only be described as
utter chaos.

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Right after I step over the threshold, a hockey puck flies at my head and I bob out of
the way at the last second, my head whipping around to see it collide with the
wall beside the door. 2
“Marco, Matias!” Nessa calls sharply, turning a glare on a set of pre-teen identical twins running through the foyer with
hockey sticks clutched in their hands. “You know the rules,” she admonishes.
“Yeah, yeah,” one of them sighs, rolling his eyes as he skids to a stop. “Not in the house.”
“Exactly,” she tuts, stooping down to pick the puck up off the floor. She hands it back to the kid and ruffles the top of his dark hair,
much to his chagrin. “You’d better go put those sticks back in the garage before Mom
and Dad see.”
The twins scamper away, groaning, and a high-pitched yell draws my attention to the stairs, my eyes widening when I see a blur
of motion as a younger boy shoots down them riding atop a red plastic sled. He picks up so much speed by the time he reaches
the bottom that he goes crashing into the wall opposite the stairs with a loud thump, laughing hysterically when he lands in heap
on the floor.
2
Nessa rushes over to help him up, her eyes wide with concern. “Raf, are you okay?!”
“That was awesome!” another young boy calls from the top of the stairs, jumping up and down excitedly. “Bring it back up, I
wanna try!”
Nessa whips around, glaring up at him and pointing a finger. “Absolutely not! No more sledding down the stairs.”
The real-life crash dummy- Raf, apparently
– is still laughing like he just had the ride of his life. “Lucas, you have to try it!”
“No,” Nessa repeats, confiscating the sled from him as soon as he picks it up off the floor. “Go wash up for dinner, little.

menace.” She shoos him away with a pat on the back, then pulls open the door of a small coat closet and stuffs the sled inside to
hide it.
“Mom!” a shrill voice calls out, followed by a very angry looking teenage girl stomping into view from the upstairs hallway. “Mia
got into my makeup again!” She freezes when she looks down and sees me standing in the foyer, her face flushing with
embarrassment before she whips around and runs out of sight.
“Did not!” a tiny voice replies defensively, and I turn to see a little girl in a bright pink dress skipping into the foyer, the evidence of
her lie all over her face in the form of a truly awful makeup application. She lights up
when she sees Nessa, her face splitting into a
wide smile. “Ness!” she squeals, running up to her and launching herself into her arms.
“Hey, little one,” Nessa laughs, scooping up the small girl and balancing her on a hip. You know you’re not supposed to be
playing in Elena’s makeup.”
“I wasn’t,” she protests, but then Nessa
gives her a hard look that has her heaving
a
sigh and coming clean. “I only used a little
bit. I wanted to look like Princess Aurora.”
Nessa shakes her head, an amused giggle slipping from her lips.
The little girl in her arms suddenly spots me, brown eyes widening as she points a finger in my direction. “Who are you?”
I clear my throat, shuffling my feet, and Nessa turns around with a bright smile.
“This is Callum,” she provides. “Callum, this is my littlest sister, Mia.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Mia asks
((

incredulously.
“He is,” Nessa replies, stooping to set her sister down. “Go wash that makeup off your
face and I’ll tell you all about him. Use the makeup wipes in the cabinet under the
sink.” She winks and Mia squeals in delight, rushing off in a blur of pink tulle.
“Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you that my house can be a little crazy
sometimes,” Nessa sighs, rolling her eyes as she steps closer and reaches out to take my hand. 2
I cock a brow, smirking. “A little?”
She throws her head back on a laugh, and fuck I love that sound. We’ve been through a lot of shit lately, but since we came out
of it, she’s been laughing more and more. It’s quickly becoming my favorite sound in the entire world. 1
“Come on,” Nessa urges, tugging my hand to lead me from the foyer into the living
room. That twitchy, nervous feeling sets in again as we weave through a minefield of
toys scattered throughout the living room. floor, making our way to the kitchen at the

back of the house.
I like Nessa’s house. It feels like a real home,
brimming with love and laughter and all the cliché shit that you see in movies but never believe exists in real life. My own house
was always devoid of all that, cold and empty like a tomb. Tidy and sterile, in stark contrast to the chaos of this place. This house
exudes
warmth within its walls.
Nessa’s parents are in the kitchen, her mother fussing over something on the stove while her father carries platters of food over
to the table. Mrs. Diaz is bopping along to an old Billy Joel song blaring from a small speaker that effectively drowns out the
noise emanating from the rest of the house. Nessa clears her throat to announce our presence, and both of her parents look
toward the doorway, easy smiles brightening their faces.

“Hey, baby girl,” Mr. Diaz croons, striding over to greet Nessa with a warm embrace. He drops a kiss atop her head, stepping
back to give her a once-over. “We’ve missed you, Mija.” He lifts his head to glance in my direction, greeting me with a tight nod. ”
Callum.”
“Nice to see you again, sir,” I say politely, forcing the words past the tightness in my
throat.
Mr. Diaz levels me with a stern look. “We
need have to have a talk, son.”
My stomach bottoms out, a cold chill
washing over me.
“Come on, Dad, can’t we get through dinner first?” Nessa sighs, stepping closer to me
and taking my hand again.
“Might as well get this out of the way,” he replies with a stoic expression. He looks to me again, beckoning me with a flick of his
head. “Come on, let’s step outside and chat
while the girls finish getting the table set.’
I nod stiffly, dropping Nessa’s hand and following her dad to the sliding glass door off the kitchen, my heart racing as we step out
into the night and he closes it behind us.
To say I’m dreading this would be an understatement. I’m not easily intimidated, but standing out here looking at Nessa’s father,
my guts are so twisted up that I feel like I’m two seconds away from leaning forward and puking all over my shoes.
He must see it written all over my face, because he gives me a tight smile as he moves closer, clapping a hand down on my
shoulder and leaning in. “Relax, this isn’t an interrogation.”
I chuckle wryly, scrubbing a hand over my face and heaving a sigh. I’ve gone over what I wanted to say so many times, but now
that I’m standing here across from Nessa’s father with his tight-set jaw and sharp expression, all the words are getting
jumbled up in my brain.

“I love your daughter,” I begin, shuffling my feet on the concrete patio below. “I
messed up by leaving her the way I did, and that’s something I’ll always regret. But she’s giving me another chance, and I plan to
spend the rest of my life making it up to her. I won’t hurt her again.”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Mr. Diaz says, holding up a hand. “I’m not looking for an apology, son. That’s between you and
my daughter. Vanessa’s a good girl, and I trust her. That means trusting her to make the best decisions for her own life, so if she
chooses you, then I trust that she
knows what she’s doing.” He heaves a sigh, sidestepping to a wooden patio chair and sinking down onto it, gesturing to the seat
across from him.
My movements are jerky as I follow his cue, dropping down into the chair and raking a hand through my hair.
Mr. Diaz leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pinning me with a serious stare. “Lia and I were about your age
when we found out we were mates,” he provides.” A few months later, she got pregnant. We were still kids ourselves, we had no
idea what we were going to do with a child of our own. And then Vanessa came along.” His lips pull into a smile, his eyes
twinkling with adoration at the mention of his daughter. Ever since she was born, she’s been the light of our lives. So kind and
gentle, even as a little girl. She’s special.”
I nod in agreement, glancing toward the kitchen through the glass patio doors. Nessa is grinning, talking animatedly to her
(C
mother as she assists her with the meal. Just looking at her, at the beautiful smile on her face, my heart swells. Special is an
understatement. Nessa is everything.
“Relationships aren’t always easy,” Mr. Díaz continues, and my gaze snaps back to him. “I love Lia with everything I am, but we
had our share of struggles in those first few years. Life is stressful, starting a family is stressful. But we worked through all of it
together. We didn’t run just because things got hard.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, my fingers tightening on the wooden armrests
of the patio chair.

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“That’s the single most important thing you can do in a relationship,” he says, leaning forward and pinning me with a somber
stare. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I grind out. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
Nessa’s dad nods slowly, leaning back in his chair and crossing an ankle over his knee. ” Good. Because second chances are a
gift.” He points a finger in my direction. “Don’t squander it.”
“I won’t,” I say confidently. “I know I screwed up...”
“People make mistakes, Callum,” Mr. Diaz interrupts. “It’s human nature. It doesn’t
make you a bad person. It’s okay to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them. I’m not going to hold yours against you, as
long as you take good care of my daughter from here on out. Like I said, I trust her in
choosing you, and in doing so, I’m trusting you with my baby girl. Don’t make me regret it.” 3
“I won’t, sir,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I promise. Nessa is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I won’t risk losing
her again. You have my word.”
An easy smile slides across his face in response. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.” He pushes up from his chair, signaling the end of
our conversation, and I quickly scramble to my feet across from him.
“Thank you,” I breathe as he steps closer. ” For trusting me with your daughter. I won’t let you down.”
Mr. Diaz nods, slipping an arm around my shoulders and leading me back toward the house. Ordinarily, I’d recoil at a gesture like
that, uncomfortable with human touch, but for some reason, Nessa’s dad puts me at
ease. There’s something about him that’s calming, a lot like his daughter’s effect on me. He’s a good man, a good father.
Something I wish I’d had. Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve turned out like if I’d had a real father to guide me. To love
me.
As if he’s reading my mind, Mr. Diaz pauses before opening the door to head back inside. “I heard about what happened over in
Norbury, with your parents’ exile. Just know that Lia and I are here for you if you ever need to talk, or if you need advice.
Anything.” 2

My throat tightens, an odd burning
sensation forming behind my eyes. “Thank

you,” I say again. “I appreciate it.”
Nessa’s dad offers me a warm smile, pulling the sliding glass door open and ushering me back inside. As we enter, Ness
immediately shoots me a look as if to ask if I’m good, and I nod in response, a genuine smile stretching my lips. Truthfully, I didn’t
know how this would go tonight. The last thing I expected was the kind of acceptance her
father offered me. It’s more than I ever got from my own father figure, and I haven’t felt that from another adult since Alpha
Vaughn. 1
Nessa strides over to me, taking my hand and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, and a
feeling of complete peace washes over me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Diaz
approach his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and whispering something in her ear, and then they both look our way,
knowing grins on their faces. In the two of
them, I see my future with Nessa, and damnit if I’m not looking forward to it. Those easy smiles, those affectionate
touches. A house full of pups running around and causing mayhem. I slip an arm around Nessa’s waist, tucking her into my side,
taking a deep breath, and exhaling
slowly.
This is what I always wanted, deep down, but never let myself imagine. I never believed it could really happen for someone like
me. And now that I have it, I’m never letting it go.
Dinner with Nessa’s family resembled the
same type of chaos that we walked into when we arrived. The two younger boys kept flicking spoonfuls of mashed potatoes

across the table at one another, the twins made a contest out of inhaling their food, much to Mrs. Diaz’s chagrin, and little Mia
asked me all kinds of blunt questions that I struggled for answers to. Nessa’s teenage sister, Elena, was the only one who was
silent throughout the entire meal, blushing fiercely whenever I glanced her way.
After dinner, I somehow got roped into playing beauty shop with Mia, gritting my teeth as she adorned my hair with a bunch of
sparkly barrettes while Nessa looked on and laughed. It was worth it just for her laughter. I’ve never really considered myself a
‘kid’ person, but damnit if Mia hasn’t already
won me over. When it was time for her to go to bed, she insisted that I be the one to read her a bedtime story, and I was like the
damn Grinch with my heart growing three sizes as I read to that little girl and helped Nessa tuck her in. 5
After the rest of the kids get sent upstairs to bed, Nessa’s parents join us in the living room, cuddling together on one of the
couches while Nessa and I sit side by side on another. Mr. Diaz sips from a glass of amber -colored liquor, watching us
thoughtfully as he strokes his wife’s shoulder with his thumb.
“So what are you two going to do about the mate bond?” he asks, swirling the liquor in
his glass.
“We, uh, haven’t really talked about it,” Nessa mumbles, lacing her fingers with mine and looking over at me cautiously. ”
Probably try to seal a bond at some point as
chosen mates?”
I nod, offering her a reassuring smile.
“Is the fated bond really gone, then?” Mrs. Diaz questions, sadness filling her eyes. There’s no way to get it back?”
((
“I felt it break,” Nessa says quietly, and the pain lacing her voice fucking guts me. Though I swear sometimes I still feel it, just
for a second. Like an echo.”
ke an
“Me too.” I give her hand a little squeeze, my chest burning with regret. If I’d known

then what I do now, I never would’ve left.
There isn’t a day that passes where I don’t
wish I didn’t.
Mr. Diaz sips from his glass, licking his lips after he swallows. “I’ve never known
((
anyone who didn’t seal their fated bond, so I don’t know how that works or if you can
ever get it back. But a chosen bond can still be strong.”
Nessa’s mom nods her agreement. “With
the foundation of the fated bond, I’m sure
yours would be stronger than most.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Nessa sighs, rubbing her thumb against the side of my hand and looking up at me
hopefully. “Right?”
“Definitely.” I lean over to press my lips to her temple, inhaling her cherry and floral scent deep into my lungs.
“So does that mean you’re going to come back here for the full moon run on Friday, Ness?” Mrs. Diaz asks thoughtfully.
I clear my throat, shifting my weight on the sofa. We probably should’ve talked about this before now and discussed what our
plan would be. Nessa slides me a hesitant glance,
wetting her lips with her tongue.
“I’m not sure,” she answers. “I’ll let you know.” Glancing up at the clock above the fireplace, Nessa heaves a sigh, untangling her
hand from mine and pushing up from
the couch. “We should probably get going,
it’s late.”

Taking her cue, I rise to my feet,
automatically reaching out for her and
pulling her in close. “Thanks for
everything,” I say, my gaze sliding between Nessa’s parents.
“Thanks for coming over,” Mrs. Diaz replies smoothly. “It was nice to get to know you a little better, Callum.” She winks, and the
gesture paired with her warm smile reminds
me so much of her daughter that I nearly do
a double-take. 1
“Take good care of my girl,” Mr. Diaz reminds me, pinning me with a stern stare.
“Dad!” Nessa protests, a furious blush
staining her cheeks.
I chuckle and pull her in closer, the warmth of her body radiating into mine. “Don’t worry, sir. She’s in good hands, I promise.”
He smiles tightly and nods, and the four of us say our goodbyes before Nessa and I see ourselves out, climbing into my Corvette
and pulling away from her family home.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Nessa smiles as we make our way out of Riverton, bound for Norbury’s territory.
I slide her a glance, my hand finding hers in the dark cab of the car. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
The grin that spreads across her lips is one I immediately commit to memory, knowing I’ll be recreating it in a sketch later so that
I
can look at it forever. 1
Her lips part, eyes wide with sincerity. “I love you too, Callum,” she breathes, and warmth floods my chest. “Always.”
“Always,” I repeat, squeezing her hand in mine, the word echoing in my mind.

Always.