by Olivia Arran
Lifting my free hand carefully, I scrubbed at my eyes. Fuck. What now? We hadn’t spoken more than a few words, our mouths and hands saying everything, but it was her eyes that had told me nothing had changed.
“You’re thinking too loud.” Her lips pressed into the curve of my shoulder, her tongue darting out to lick at my skin, before she rolled away, onto her back.
“Morning.” I scooted closer as she stretched, her back arching and her breasts bouncing.
Her eyes had closed, a satisfied smile teasing her full lips. They flashed open, and she jerked up to sitting, dragging the cover up to her chest. “Wait, morning?”
Now completely naked—thanks to the bed sheet thief—I smirked when her eyes slid sideways, zeroing in on my cock, which was waving a very good morning to her. Maybe I could convince her to stay in bed with me, remove all the clocks in the house, close the shutters, and then she’d forget she was planning on leaving.
Using my biceps as a pillow, I flexed my abs, making the focus of her attention jump. “Find something to your liking?”
“Has that line ever worked before?” She laughed, wagging her finger in the air. “No, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
Affecting a wounded look, I frowned. “No round two then?”
Sliding off the bed, and, yes, taking the sheet with her, she squinted at the floor, probably looking for her clothes.
Which I had hidden in the closet. In Dylan’s room. A stroke of brilliance on my part. “I think it would be round four, maybe five.” She didn’t actually answer my question, but she didn’t have to. She was making her escape.
“Why can’t you register?”
Her drawn out sigh grated on my nerves, the high of last night vanishing. This relationship thing was hard, how the hell was I ever meant to understand what women were really thinking? I pushed up onto my elbows. “I think I deserve to know.”
Pausing her search, she glared at me. “Because I can’t have my name in the system.”
Pretty much the conclusion I’d come to. “Someone’s looking for you?”
She yanked the sheet tighter, tucking the ends over so it stayed up. “Several someones.”
“So, we’ll get your name changed.”
She gave me a look as if to say duh. “That would leave a paper trail.”
Had to be someone reasonably influential then, if she was worried about that. “I could speak to Carter, talk him into letting you have a little more time.” So I could come up with a plan.
She hesitated, and, for the first time, I knew without a doubt that she didn’t want to leave.
She didn’t want to fucking leave.
Relief floored me, leaving me fighting off the shakes. I hadn’t realized until that moment how worried I’d actually been.
She shook her head. “He wouldn’t go for it.”
“He wouldn’t have a choice.” Something teased at my memory, then her earlier words came flooding back to me. “You said that you had two choices. Leaving or…?”
“You don’t want to know.” She gave up the search for her clothes and perched on the edge of the bed, flicking her hair back with her hand. “You really don’t want to know. Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not doing it.”
Reaching out, I tugged her around, so I could see her face. So she could see mine. “Tell me.”
“Dante suggested that we get married,” she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other.
I saw red. Fuck, no, I saw blood. I was on my feet, fists clenched, and on my way out of the room. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
A body slammed into mine, hands palming my cheeks and yanking my head down. Electric green eyes blazed into mine. “I’m not marrying him.” Each word was dragged out, drilling through the rage that consumed me, until I could breathe around the fire burning a hole in my chest.
“Would it work?”
She flinched. “You can’t be serious.”
Covering her hands with mine, I leaned into her, until our noses nearly touched. “Would … it … work?”
She bit her lip, eyes sliding away to be hidden by her lashes. “Yes. The paper trail would still be there, but it wouldn’t matter.”
“Because they—” whoever this mysterious they were, “—wouldn’t be able to touch you.”
“They wouldn’t be able to force me to—” Her voice broke.
There was no hesitation in my mind, no deliberation needed. “Then marry me.” Sure, it wasn’t the usual way of our kind, but it wasn’t that unusual either. As long as she was my mate, we could do the whole human thing, too. If I’d have known that’s what she needed, I’d have offered weeks ago.
“Owen…” Her frown hadn’t faded, but her eyes were wide. Disbelieving.
Twisting my lips into a wry smile, I winced. “Not romantic enough?”
“I— I can’t be your mate.” She darted in, kissing me quick, leaving her taste clinging to my lips. Trying to ease the sting.
Teasing me. Taunting me with what she couldn’t give.
No, wouldn’t give.
In a low voice, she tried to soften the blow, “You’re the only man I’ve ever imagined a future with.” She gulped in air, as if she were drowning, sadness pouring off her. Her finger traced a path down my cheek. “But it wouldn’t work, wolf. You have to trust me. I wouldn’t be the perfect mate. It’s something inside me—maybe my soul or my DNA, or maybe I’m just that screwed up—but I can’t do it. Something is broken inside of me, has been for a long time. I don’t want this.” And I’d end up hating you for it… The words she didn’t utter hung in the air between us, slashing at the bond already formed between us.
Static crackled in my ears as I employed every ounce of control I had to hide my reaction. Her rejection. Her words echoed inside my head, bouncing around until I couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Did I mean nothing to her? My wolf was silent, curled up inside me as if he could wish himself into nothing through pure willpower alone.
“I’m sorry.” Her hands were leaving me, her eyes a shimmer of green.
She was crying. For me. For us.
And I knew her; Bree didn’t cry.
I did mean something to her, enough for her heart to hurt.
Reaching for the fragile bond between us that had sprung to life at first kiss, the proof that our fate was sealed as one, I carefully pulled it close, cradling it within my mind.
I wasn’t letting her go. She could fight me, scream at me, give me the cold shoulder, hurt me anyway she needed to, but I was never turning my back on her. Even if she wanted me to.
I snatched her hand out of the air, bringing it to my rest above my heart in a silent vow. “Marry me anyway.”
Chapter Twelve
Briana
Couldn’t he see that I was seconds away from breaking, that it had taken everything I had to turn him down? That I couldn’t break his huge heart a second time. That I was drowning, unable to break free as the whirlpool tugged at my legs, sucking me down.
Why couldn’t he see it?
He had to let me go. I couldn’t be the woman he needed, the woman he deserved. As a child, weighed down by expectations and duty; I’d trained and fought and given goddamn everything to be what was expected of me. To be the perfect dragon. An efficient and ruthless fighter. To always play by the rules and to always, always win.
And then they’d changed the rules. Ripped them away without mercy, throwing me into a new arena and expecting me to be able to swim. With new rules. New expectations. To be softer. Compliant. Agreeable. A completely different woman than the one they had created.
And they had wondered at the fact that I’d fought my new cage, that I didn’t want to submit to their will? That I wouldn’t be meek and quiet and … weak. Their new vision of the perfect daughter.
I had turned my back on them and my heart had fractured. They said they loved me, but they betrayed me. Everyone is capable of betrayal. Lesson learned.
“Fuck, Bree. No mating,
okay. Just marry me and take my name. Stay here.” Owen’s gruff voice sounded strained, breaking through my trip down memory lane and tugging me back to the present.
Wetness clung to my cheeks, stinging my eyes. That he’d do this for me… Deep down, I knew he was clinging to a shred of hope, that he could change my mind. Convince me to be his.
But he reached for me, catching my tears, steady as a rock. And I needed that. Bastard. I needed him to catch me so I could hold my head up and finally breathe. Would it be so bad to rely on someone, just for a little while?
Stay, my dragon whispered. She nudged me, gentle for once.
I managed to muster a weak-ass smile, suddenly feeling shy as I stared up at him. “Okay.”
He tilted his head. “Okay?”
“I’ll marry you.” My smile grew to match his, more teeth than lips and straining at the edges.
“And you’ll stay.” It was almost a command, tempered only by the hunger in his eyes.
I reached up onto my tiptoes, hooking my hands around his neck and threading my fingers into his hair. “And I’ll stay.”
“With me.” He nipped at my bottom lip with a growl.
I bit back a giggle. I didn’t giggle. “Bossy wolf.”
“Bossy future husband,” he corrected, his hands working on the knot in my sheet.
I slapped at his hands, shrieking as he scooped me up. “Don’t go getting ideas.”
He walked over to the bed, arms flexing and grin still fixed in place, but his eyes were soft. “This can be whatever you need it to be.”
The shards of my heart smashed together, cutting and tearing at the hole in my chest, but then there was a tiny click as a piece slid back into place. I wasn’t complete, or whole again, but maybe I was a little less broken.
Lifting up, I wriggled in his arms until I straddled him, his hands grabbing at my ass and a low chuckle rumbling out of his chest. Mashing our lips together, I growled, seizing his tongue with mine and claiming his mouth. Yanking back, I glared at him. “I need you.”
And, damn, if I didn’t hate him a little for it.
His answer was to toss me onto the bed and pin me down, his body moving over me in the best possible way. As he thrust inside me, he groaned, his head falling back and tendons straining. His hips snapped forward, slamming into me, as if punishing me for my words. Hurting him. My betrayal as a mate. Again and again, he punished me, until I gave up all fight and wrapped my legs around his hips, hanging on and riding the wave as it crashed over me, crashing into me. Erupting on a scream, I dug my nails into his flesh, etching my marks into his skin.
He climaxed on a roar, jerking against me, his eyes pinning me in place and teeth bared. Savage. Beautiful. Strong.
Mine. Even if only in my head.
He blinked, sucking in air. “We’ll get married this afternoon.”
And, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t bristle at a command. Or want to run a mile. “Okay, sounds good.”
“You may kiss the bride.” Carter still looked shell-shocked, though he was hiding it well enough behind his trademark sexy boardroom smirk. He waved a hand in our direction, looking more than a little puzzled, but Owen didn’t need to be told twice. His strong arms lifted me off my feet and brought my lips to his as he proceeded to kiss the hell out of me, serenaded by cat calls and whoops of encouragement.
Lifting one foot—which had been dangling in the air anyway—I gave myself up to the moment, kissing him back with an enthusiasm that had him growling against my lips.
“Careful, Mrs. Robson. We have an audience.” His hands smoothed over my simple cream sheath dress, cupping my ass as if to stake his claim. Like the simple gold band on my finger didn’t quite cut it for him.
“How did I not know your full name until five minutes ago?”
I felt his shoulders shrug under the suit jacket he wore, a dark charcoal that set off his dark hair and green eyes perfectly. I’d never seen him in a suit—no, wait, he’d worn one for Heather and Nate’s wedding, but it had been a pale gray. Dark colors suited him, I decided. He was sexy and dangerous looking, straining the suit at the seams, his hair falling into his eyes and freshly shaved along the sides. Stubble still lined his jaw, since I’d refused to let him shave for the occasion.
“I didn’t know your full name until five minutes ago, either.”
Luckily, Carter had agreed to marry us using only the names we were known by, though our full names had to be written and recorded for legal purposes. Both men had taken one look at my full name and their eyes had met, identical frowns creasing their handsome faces. “I prefer Briana, I’m used to it now and it is my middle name.”
He smirked, finally letting my feet touch the floor. His mouth dipped to my ear, his voice only for me, “Good. Because I don’t think I could call you by your real name and keep a straight face. Who names their kid Lucky?”
“Lucky Briana Skyjade. You can thank my parents for that mouthful.” The second the words were out of my mouth, a wave of dread washed over me. “On second thought, let’s hope you don’t ever get the chance to thank my parents,” I said, keeping my voice light.
His eyes narrowed. “Your parents, huh?”
“Leave it, Owen.”
“Husband,” he corrected with an air of superiority.
I decided there was no time like the present to beat that kind of caveman shit out of him.
“Ow! What was that for?” He clutched his chest, a mock pout on his gorgeous mouth.
I couldn’t resist sneaking another kiss, lingering for another, then maybe one—
“Okay, enough! Let me have a squeeze of the not so blushing bride!” Nita demanded, giving Owen a not so gentle shove. Our small crowd had grown restless and my girls were at the front, tugging me away and into the center of their small circle. I was passed around and hugged until my cheeks ached from grinning.
“Okay, spill.” Harper, a fox shifter and mate of one of the bear shifters, tapped her foot and squinted at me. Almost as snarky as myself, she was my kind of girl, with her take no bullshit attitude and zest for life. “What made you marry fuzzy numbnuts over there?”
Her sister elbowed her, which Harper couldn’t return, since Leona was pregnant.
Harper’s gaze zeroed in on my stomach. “Are you pregnant?”
Leona threw her hands up in the air as Nita almost choked on her own laughter, cackling away like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Seriously? We talked about this, Harp! I think Jake’s rubbing off on you.”
Harper smirked. “He sure is.”
Grace Lockett, who’d been very quiet and well behaved up until now, snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth and flushing bright red.
Leona groaned, shaking her head and mouthing apologies at me.
Mina, another fox shifter, mate of yet another bear shifter, and kind of sister to Harper—through bite, not blood, and that was complicated shit to keep straight on a normal day—sniggered, her friend, Emma, the town’s doctor joining in. Heather, the last woman standing gave me a sympathetic look. Emma and Heather were also mated to bear shifters. Yep, the bears had been busy boys.
“No, I’m not.” I tried to be firm, but I was betting that more than half of the women staring at me didn’t believe me. Hell if I knew why, they knew you had to be mated to conceive, and…
Oh, fuck. They didn’t know. They thought Owen and I—
“Told you, she’s preggo,” Harper stated, loud enough that the crowd of men turned to look at us.
Owen arched an eyebrow in silent question.
“I’m not pregnant.” I tapped my stomach, resisting the strange urge to cradle it. Resisting an even stranger urge to imagine a baby growing inside there. Owen’s child. My husband’s child.
Oh, shit. Shit. I was married. I’d actually gone and done it. And my husband was walking toward me, looking all kinds of fine in his suit. The crowd parted, dropping away as he came to a stop just in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. �
��Want to get out of here?” he murmured, a smile twisting his lips and causing a dimple to pop up out of nowhere.
A dimple. How was I supposed to think straight when he brought out the big guns? I was so screwed. By my husband. Yep. That’s what my mind latched onto; screwing my husband. What’s a girl to do?
Tossing a wicked smile at my friends, I wiggled my eyebrows and promised I’d fill them all in later. Grabbing hold of Owen’s tie, I tugged him to me, pressing us together from toe to shoulder, and all the bumps in between.
He groaned, ignoring everyone else and sliding his tongue between my lips, reducing me to a quivering bundle of nerve endings.
Winding my fingers through his, I nipped at his jaw. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”
“Really? I think I need to up my game,” he murmured, before breaking into a run, pulling me along with him.
Rice hit our backs, sticking in my hair and falling down my cleavage, cheers following us down the street.
I could feel violet eyes following us. Dante hadn’t said a word, hadn’t tried to stop the wedding, and I could only hope that meant he was actually on my side. That there wasn’t an ulterior motive to him wanting to protect me from my family.
Hope. It was something I hadn’t dared wish for in a long time. I glanced at my new husband. Trust; another feeling that was foreign to me.
It didn’t come easy, but I was trying.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen
Climbing out of bed, I padded toward the bathroom and notched my shoulder against the doorframe. I couldn’t help but stare at her. My wife. That would take some getting used to.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror above the sink, her toothbrush pausing. Spitting into the sink, she wiped her mouth. “What?” Toothpaste clung to her lips, her body barely covered by a pair of lace panties and matching tank top.
I grinned, letting my eyes drift up and down her body. Now, this I could get used to in no time at all. “Morning.”
