by Leela Ash
“I promise. If this isn’t for me, I will be home before you know it. I’m going to try to make this work though, Haley. I really think it could. And if it doesn’t, then it’s really not a big deal. I’m sure Greyson wouldn’t mind if I left.”
Haley was quiet for a moment before she said, barely audibly, “All right.”
“Speaking of, I should really get going. He’s very particular about his food schedule, and if I’m late to the table, he’s going to take it really badly.”
“That’s kind of immature…” Haley laughed, but there was no humor in her voice.
“Tell me about it. I could write a whole book. I swear, he’s like a spoiled little kid half the time. But I really think there’s some good in there. There has to be.”
“If there’s one thing I trust, it’s your intuition. You get going and prove the rest of us wrong about this whole thing, all right?”
“I’ll do my best,” Molly promised.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Send everyone else my love too, all right? Don’t any of you give up hope about this. It isn’t a death sentence. Things still have a chance of turning around for the best. Don’t curse the future before it’s even here.”
Haley laughed. “Right. There’s the annoyingly eternal optimist I’ve grown to love and give noogies to. We’ll talk again soon.”
Molly smiled at the thought, but when the phone hung up on the other side, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of misery. She missed her family, more than she had ever missed anything in the world. And if she had her way, they would all be there for her wedding. Whether it was a groom she had chosen out of love, or one out of necessity, her wedding day should be more special than this.
“Are you finally finished now?”
Greyson’s voice at the doorway made Molly’s chest tight. She hadn’t noticed him lurking there. Just how long had he been listening to her conversation?
“Yes,” Molly said coolly. “I appreciate you letting me speak to my family.”
“This isn’t a prison,” Greyson said rigidly. “This is my home. Yours now too. Come now. It’s time for our meal.”
Molly nodded, her heart still palpitating hard in her chest. If he had listened in long enough, he would have heard her calling him a spoiled little child. If that was the case, who knew what kind of hell she was in for?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before following Greyson out into the hallway. When she opened her eyes again, a strange type of resolution settled over her. So what if Greyson had heard her call him a spoiled child? That’s what he acted like. If he wanted her impression of him to change, then he would have to change. It was as simple as that.
8.
Greyson secretly studied Molly as they ate, his thoughts consumed by the delicate beauty of her features. He was sure she hadn’t been chosen for the cheerleading squad in high school, and many of his friends would probably be able to tear her looks apart within seconds.
But Greyson knew there was something special about her. He had known from the moment he first laid eyes upon the newspaper ad that featured her smiling face. He couldn’t say, for the life of him, what it was, but he had just known, in that instant, that Molly Ferguson would change his life.
He stabbed at his food sulkily. She had said he was a spoiled little child. As if she had the right to badmouth him under his own roof. He should have been furious, and would have been if it had been any other woman who said it. But, for some reason, instead of feeling angry, the words stung him deeply. It was almost as if he cared about this quiet, kind girl’s opinion of him. But what good would her approval do for him? It was the blessing of the Serah stone he was after. Nothing more.
“What’s your family like?” Greyson asked suddenly.
They had endured many silent meals together, Molly refusing to look at Greyson after the first time he had gotten uncomfortable with her excited gaze and told her he didn’t like being looked at while he ate. She was respectful of his wishes and idiosyncrasies, but did that make him a spoiled child? Really?
Still, he was feeling guilty for alienating her so much. It had been he who had chosen to bring her. He had a feeling that if he knew just what had gotten her into the business of being a mail order bride, it would probably change his perspective of her. For better or for worse. He had to know.
“They’re wonderful,” Molly said, the light behind her blue eyes shining brightly across the table. He knew she wanted to look at him – just as he knew she wanted more from his midnight visits than to simply reject his advances – it was all part of being a shifter to be able to sense other people’s true desires and motivations. But the young woman was proud and contained, and was very well adept at learning her place in a foreign world.
“How are they wonderful?” Greyson insisted. Molly seemed surprised at his sudden interest, but he assumed she would welcome the conversation. After all, it had been her suggestion that they get to know one another better. He simply felt more comfortable opening up to her knowing every little detail he could about her life first. Whether it was a power play or simple insecurity was anybody’s guess. He just knew he wanted to be on top at all costs.
“My father is a hard-working man” Molly began. “He’s done a lot for our family. He had to start his business from the ground up and worked hard to get where he is today. It means everything to him. And my mother is like his rock. She supports him in every way she can and does everything possible to help the business thrive. When she got pregnant with my brother, she was forced to bed rest, but she still did the books and housework when my father was away. Without her, we wouldn’t have a dime to our names.”
“Who were you speaking to on the phone?” Greyson asked, taking all of this in. So her family was in business in the human world. That didn’t bode well. Human businessmen were much like the shifter kind – they all had skeletons in the closet. He was suddenly certain that this had something, if not everything, to do with how Molly had gotten mixed up in the mail order bride business.
“My sister, Haley. She’s older than I am by about six years. She’s always looked out for me. I used to wish that we could move out together and get an apartment someday. She’s so smart and cool…”
“What kind of business is your father in?” Greyson interrupted. Talk of Molly’s family was beginning to bore him. More than that, it was stirring something strange in him. He was almost resentful, in a way, of how she spoke of them with such fondness. Was he jealous that she could care so much about somebody else, besides him? Or was he jealous that she had been cared about so much by her family when his own had treated him more like a commodity in training to take over the insufferable task of handling real estate issues?
“He’s actually an inventor,” Molly said, beaming proudly. “He’s a brilliant, kind man.”
“All right, all right,” Greyson said, holding his hand up. “I’m asking about business, not trying to win him a daddy of the year trophy.”
Molly’s face fell, but she continued talking as if she were unfazed by Greyson’s attitude.
“He invents things with practical uses, and does a lot for artists as well, since that’s his passion and he knows the market very well.”
“I see,” Greyson said. He had never encountered many artists in his time. Most of the shifters in Stonybrooke had other, more practical, concerns. When there were people who wanted art, they would go to the humans to get it. Shifters usually didn’t have a whole lot of time or patience for that kind of thing. Their creativity was best left to ritual and divination as opposed to directionless art.
“I’d really like it if you would meet them someday,” Molly said quietly.
Greyson cringed. He knew she wanted her family at the wedding. He had practically heard it for himself. And with the way she was gushing over them as if they were the best thing on the planet, he was sure she would never be happy in Stonybrooke. Maybe he should just call the whole thing off.
Bu
t when he opened his mouth to suggest it, Molly caught his eye from across the table and smiled sweetly at him. His heart hammered in his chest, and Greyson cursed the wolf inside him. It had already laid a claim on the poor girl, and whether he liked it or not, there was no changing it. She was going to be his, and nothing would be able to change the wolf’s mind about that.
“We’ll see,” he said instead.
They fell back into a comfortable silence, and Greyson sighed inwardly. Molly sat in her seat, her energy light and beautifully optimistic. It was the happiest he had seen her since she’d arrived on his front steps, and he wished that there was something that he could do to preserve that happiness.
But he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he wanted to make her comfortable there. Wouldn’t it be in her best interest to simply let her go after all was said and done and he had received the Serah stone’s blessing at the ceremony? His parents would be off his back and everything would go back to normal. Then he could get back to work and focus on his research.
“So what do you do up in that musty old room all day anyway?” Molly asked, as if she could read his thoughts. He felt frozen, on the spot, a feeling that made him anxious. But he was tired of wounding the girl and decided to answer candidly.
“I’m looking into starting my own company,” Greyson said. “My father wants me to follow in his footsteps, but I don’t feel very comfortable with that.”
“Does he have big shoes to fill?” Molly asked.
“More like smelly ones,” Greyson said, wrinkling his nose. “I’d like to make my own way in the world and do whatever it takes to accomplish my goals, without anybody’s help.”
“That’s very admirable,” Molly said, her bright blue eyes looking at him with genuine appreciation. It was a nice look, one that made him feel good. So why did he feel so embarrassed about it?
“Thanks,” Greyson said awkwardly, not sure where else to take the conversation. It was difficult to talk to someone when your brain was louder than your voice, he realized. And Molly certainly made his brain go into overdrive.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what kind of company do you want to start?” Molly asked. She seemed genuinely interested, and Greyson shifted in his seat, unsure whether or not it would be safe to divulge his plans to the woman who was, supposedly, going to be his future wife.
“I want to do something that will change the world we’re living in,” Greyson said. “Not just make it worse. I’m looking for people with innovative ideas, and I’d like to help them to get their ideas off the ground and into the mainstream. Things like that.”
Molly seemed shocked by the goal, but her face radiated with approval. “I think that’s incredible,” she said. “What does your father think about that?”
“He doesn’t know, exactly, what I’m doing with my time. He knows I want nothing to do with his work, but he still seems to think that my inheritance is enough to sway me away from working on my dream. It’s kind of funny, actually. The man is as stubborn as they come. He’s completely convinced that he has me under his thumb.”
“It will come as quite a surprise to him when he finds out that you’re not there,” Molly said, her beautiful eyes filling him with a surge of confidence that he usually lacked when he thought about the situation with his father.
“I hope it will,” Greyson said.
“And what about your mother?” Molly asked. “What does she think of all of this?”
“She doesn’t care what my father and I do, as long as I give her grandchildren that she can be proud of.”
Molly frowned. “Wouldn’t she be proud of any children you have? You’re her son, after all. Family is what’s most important. Not skill sets.”
Greyson laughed bitterly. It was a naïve way of seeing the world. But it was something he wished could be possible. And, maybe for families that weren’t like his own, it was. Families like Molly’s.
“Actually, there’s a reason I chose you… specifically… to marry me,” Greyson admitted, albeit uncomfortably.
“Oh?” Molly asked, raising her eyebrow at him. Greyson laughed awkwardly.
“Yes. There’s a ceremony coming up. It’s supposed to only happen every thirty-odd years. Anyway, it’s really important. There are ancient rites that are meant to be observed by all members of the pack. You’re supposed to…” Greyson sighed in exasperation. How could he possibly explain all of the complexities of shifter culture to an oblivious human? He was the first shifter she had ever seen!
“What are you supposed to do, Greyson?” Molly asked gently. He could feel the concerned energy rolling off her body, wrapping him up in a comforting blanket of love. It was overwhelming. Who was this woman?
“We’re supposed to mate… with virgins. It’s an ancient tradition that most families, especially the more noble lineages like my family, try to observe. I mean, I’m pretty young in the grand scheme of things and don’t care much one way or the other… but tradition is something that’s really important to my people. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely,” Molly said, smiling at Greyson. “So you had to find a virgin and you decided to go with me.”
Greyson shrugged helplessly. There was no way he could ever admit to the strength of the wolf’s conviction when he had chosen her. There was no way he could even explain it to himself, let alone to the girl. It simply was what it was, and there was little either of them could do to change it.
“Basically, that’s what happened. Yeah,” Greyson said. It was easier just to nod along. The rest of the story could come later, if it had to come at all. But he didn’t see any reason why it should.
They had long since finished their food, and Greyson found himself surprised by the easy flow of conversation that passed between them. When Molly finally excused herself, Greyson – and the wolf – followed her out of the room.
She didn’t hear him behind her as she ascended the staircase that led to her bedroom, and she didn’t notice him when he – ever so quietly – closed the bedroom door behind himself.
When Molly finally turned around, she gasped in shock to find him standing in front of her.
“Didn’t we talk about this?” she asked breathlessly.
Greyson nodded, but the wolf didn’t care. Her words were just pretty sounds. All the wolf cared for was the truth of her body. And the truth was, her body wanted him. Badly. And he could feel it.
“Please,” Molly said, backing away from him. “You should go. I wanted to…”
Her words were cut off by the urgent heat of Greyson’s mouth, and a muffled gasp escaped her lips. Every barrier in her body trembled at the force of his body as he stroked her and allowed his hands to roam what was his, and although she wanted to fight, there were several sweet moments of surrender, where her body and his found an intrinsic rhythm.
“Stop!”
Greyson was shocked when Molly placed her hands squarely on his chest and shoved him away from her. Greyson gaped at her in disbelief, his cock painfully hard against his thigh, and gritted his teeth. Just what was this woman trying to do to him? Who was she fooling?
“I already told you,” Molly said, her voice wavering and her blue eyes hard and serious. “I’m going to need a little more time than this. We barely know each other.”
Greyson gritted his teeth. Who cared if they knew each other or not? The wolf knew what it was she wanted and he was more than willing to deliver. Molly panted, her cheeks flushed attractively as she held her arms protectively out in front of her body.
“There has to be more to it than this,” Molly said, shaking her head. “Please go. I loved talking to you. I really did. And I hope we can keep getting to know one another better and better. But this isn’t right. You have to… please, just respect that!”
Greyson suddenly felt foolish and guilty, staring at the beautiful girl’s face. It almost looked as if she were going to cry. And why wouldn’t she? She had so many mixed emotions swirling around her and filling the ai
r with so many conflicting messages. If shifters were less practical about their approach to life, he was sure he would be crying in her shoes too.
“I’m sorry,” Greyson mumbled miserably. “Humans and shifters have a different way of going about these things. I understand.”
“I appreciate you apologizing,” Molly said. “Truly. Now please, if you could, just leave me alone. We can talk more in the morning.”
Greyson nodded and walked numbly down the hallway, feeling worse than he had ever felt in his life. Why did he insist on pushing her boundaries so much? It would get him nowhere. If what he wanted was to be with her, then why did he insist on doing things the wolf’s way? She was a human, after all. There was something to be said about the relationship between humans and shifters. Compromises needed to be made, on both ends.
Greyson laughed scornfully. If his parents knew that his virgin bride-to-be was going to be a human, they would most likely be horrified. Shifters of his family blood line were mostly pure-bred, with no human blood to muddy the gene pool. It was likely that they would want to disown him simply based on the wolf’s choice. But even if they did, they would be doing him a favor. Nobody understood the pressure he was under to try to please his father. And nobody would understand just how tempting it was to say fuck it to all the rules. Even his own.
9.
Molly tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep after the confrontation with Greyson. It was as if he knew exactly what buttons to press with her, whether he was trying to annoy her or arouse her. It seemed unfair all of a sudden that he had the advantage of the wolf’s natural senses. They were acute and accurate in ways humans could never even conceive. He seemed to be using her own desire against her in a way. But all he really had to do, if he wanted her, was to take it slow. Was that really so much to ask?
The memory of his touch sent a forbidden thrill throughout her body. She wanted so badly to be with him, right that moment, in his bed, finding out just what kind of pleasures Greyson’s muscular, capable body would be able to introduce to her. The sad fact of the matter was that Molly had never even had a boyfriend before. She had been far too consumed with her studies and the family business to even consider the advances made upon her by the several single-minded boys who came her way.
