Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 330

Bound To The Broken Alpha

Chapter 330 Perfect Opportunity

CLARA

>“Mark, please. I have nowhere else to go. You can’t just leave me like this.”

Still nothing.

Finished

I sank back onto the bed and rubbed my face with both hands. The Southern Alpha’s warning echoed in my head. Stay away until I call for you. I had listened. I stayed quiet. I had done what I was told. And now even Mark was slipping out of reach.

I sent another message.

>“I can’t do this without you. I’m falling apart.”

The dots never appeared.

My grip on the phone tightened. The house felt smaller by the second. I thought about packing, then realized I didn’t even know where I would go. Every door I had leaned on was closing.

I typed again, slower this time.

>“If you don’t come back, I don’t know what I’ll do to myself.”

My heart was pounding as I sent it.

Still nothing.

I stood up and walked to the mirror. I barely recognized the woman staring back. My eyes looked sharp, desperate. I told myself this was just to get his attention Just words. Just enough to pull him back.

I sent one last message.

>“Please. I’m serious. Don’t make me be alone tonight.

The phone stayed silent in my hand.

I dropped onto the couch and stared at the dark screen, waiting for it to vibrate, to ring, to do anything at

all.

It didn’t.

And for the first time, I wondered if I had finally pushed too far–and if no one was coming to save me now.

Hours later, Mark came back close to midnight.

I heard the door before I saw him. The lock turned slowly, like his hand wasn’t steady. I stayed where I was, sitting on the couch with the lights dimmed, pretending I hadn’t been waiting for hours.

He stepped inside and shut the door harder than he meant to. His jacket slipped off one shoulder. His scent hit me immediately–alcohol, stress, anger. His wolf was quiet, dulled, not gone but pushed down.

“Mark,” I said softly.

He looked at me like he’d forgotten I existed.

15:20 Mon, Feb 9 =

Chapter 330 Perfect Opportunity

“What are you still doing here?” he asked.

His words were slurred, but the edge was still there.

“I told you to leave.”

80%

Finished

I stood up slowly. I didn’t argue. I didn’t remind him of anything he’d said earlier. I walked toward him instead.

“You’re drunk,” I said. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

He tried to step past me. He stumbled instead.

I caught his arm.

That was when I knew.

This was my opening.

“You can barely stand,” I said. “Just sit. I’ll get you some water.”

He didn’t pull away. He let me guide him to the couch. His head dropped back, eyes half–closed. He looked tired in a way I hadn’t seen before.

I went to the kitchen and poured water into a glass. When I came back, he was already leaning sideways, his eyes shut.

“Drink,” I said, pressing the glass into his hand.

He took a few sips, then pushed it away.

“I just need to sleep.”

“Not like this,” I said. “You’ll wake up sick.”

He muttered something I couldn’t make out.

I took his jacket off. Then his shoes. He didn’t stop me. His body was heavy, loose. I told myself not to think too much. Thinking made room for guilt.

I helped him to the bedroom.

He fell onto the bed face–first.

I stood there for a second, watching his back rise and fall

This wasn’t how I imagined it would happen. But I was walking away.

I turned him over and pulled the covers back. His shirt was damp with sweat. I wiped his face with a towel, slow and careful.

“You came home,” I whispered. “You chose me.”

15:20 Mon, Feb 9 =

Chapter 330 Perfect Opportunity

He didn’t answer.

I slid in beside him.

Finished

At some point, he woke enough to pull me closer. His hands moved without thought. His mouth found my shoulder. There was no conversation. No clarity. Just instinct and heat and the fact that he didn’t push me

away.

I let him lead what little he could.

I told myself this was what he wanted.

By the time we were done, he was asleep again. Deep this time.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to his breathing, my mind racing. I didn’t feel satisfied. I felt calm. Like I’d tied a knot that couldn’t be undone.

Morning came too fast.

Light crept through the curtains. Mark groaned beside me and rolled onto his back. His hand brushed his

head.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “My head.”

I stayed still.

He sat up slowly and looked around. His eyes landed on me.

He froze.

“What the hell?” he said.

I pulled the sheet up calmly.

“You’re awake,” I said. “Good.”

He looked down at himself, then back at me.

“Why am I naked?”

“You came home drunk,” I said. “You passed out. I cleaned you up.”

His brows pulled together.

“And… this?” He gestured between us.

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head once.

“No. I don’t.”

I watched his face carefully. Confusion. Not anger yet. Not accusation.

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