Page 7 of Betrothed in Fury
“I don’t doubt that, but, Killian, I’m being sincere when I tell you I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” That’s not entirely honest. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in my gut that I do, and I just hope I’m wrong.
He walks over to a black desk adjacent to me. He digs through the drawers, retrieving some papers.
Oh fuck.
Once he saidwedding, these papers played through my mind, and now, there they fucking are. What the hell did I get myself into?
“I kept these handy in case you wanted to review the fine print.” He approaches me, displaying the last page, bearing my signature. “That’s you, yes?”
“You know damn well it is. Dad gave me that to sign and said it would ensure we were taken care of. I don’t see how that could have anything to do with a wedding. You sure this isn’t some dumb shit they did on poker night?” I know better, but there’s some faint hope in me that Killian will reveal this has all been a shitty birthday prank.
But if it is, he’s not laughing. His brow furrows. “Now, Logan, you know as well as I do that nothing in this world comes for free. Old Terror was good with your father, who had plenty of debts, and everyone knew the moment he passed, your rivals would descend upon your house.”
I’m annoyed that he’s talking down to me. “I don’t need a blow-by-blow. I’m familiar with my family’s history.”
“So my father agreed to keep the Wildes safe, on the condition that the eldest sons of our houses would marry when you turned twenty-seven, which would be today.”
“None of this makes sense. Why would twenty-seven be the age? And why would marrying be the best solution to keeping my family safe?”
“Doesn’t make sense? This is the way things have been done in the past. My great-grandfather married my great-grandmother as a truce between rivals. Following that, twenty-seven was the age the families agreed upon because it allowed my grandmother to have some time to enjoy her freedoms, just as my mother then had before marrying my father to ensure the safety of our house. A lot of good that did us. And since you’rethe younger of the two of us, it was established that you should have the same opportunities of enjoying your youth before fulfilling your duty.”
“I can’t believe Dad thought this—”
“Your father was smart, just like mine.” His tone is severe, as if questioning their rationale insults their memory. “Because they both knew nothing would protect you more than being blood with us. Nothing means more than blood and bonds in our world. With us being together, no one can touch your family.”
He’s right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“You certainly haven’t had an issue touching me tonight.”
He studies me again, his gaze lingering in a way that makes me want to hide.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Looking at my future husband like I want to fuck him?”
“Stop saying that like it’s serious!”
He moves close, getting in my face, taking me by the chin, asserting his dominance. His expression is stoic as he hisses out, “Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking I’m not being serious.”
A chill rushes through me, and I swallow a lump in my throat. His gaze shifts to my Adam’s apple, and I’m thinking he’s about to lean forward and bite my throat like a vampire. Looking into those nearly black eyes—Old Terror had these same eyes—it’s not hard to see why our rivals fear him. He’s wild, unpredictable. Just like he’s being tonight by bringing up this marriage crap like we could possibly be serious about it. And yet…he’s frighteningly serious.Disturbinglyserious.
“You signed this document, and I don’t care if you meant to or not, you are holding up your end of the bargain. This is you.” Still holding my chin, he displays my signature once again, forcing me to face the truth. He leans so close, I can smell the hints of citrus and pine in his cologne and the whiskey on his breath as he says, “And now you are mine.”
2
KILLIAN
My future husbandis a vision; there’s no denying that. Not when he’s naked, on full display for me.
Even more intriguing was how he bashed my guys’ faces in to save himself. I respect his fight. I respect that he continued resisting even when I strung him up, even now as I show him there’s no backing out of this arrangement.
Old Terror always said that as long as I could respect Logan, that would be enough, and I’ve never doubted his wisdom. Although, I was surprised to hear Logan denying knowing what this agreement he signed was about. I always assumed we didn’t discuss it because of how awkward it would be. I initially thought his insistence was a ruse to get out of it, but maybe he really didn’t read it—not that that changes anything. As a fellow firstborn, Logan knows what it means to be responsible for his family, and from his reputation, I have no doubt he’ll rise to the challenge. This is something else we share, something that’ll make this arrangement work. We understand our obligations because of our positions in our families. We understand that sometimes what must be done involves setting aside everything, even our own happiness.
He struggles with his restraints, and given the futility of his other attempts, I figure it’s not an attempt to escape, this time, but frustration at the situation. As he shifts about, a dark lock falls into his eyes, and he jerks his head to the side but doesn’t manage to get it out of the way. “Killian, can you just let me out of these?”
He focuses his blue gaze on me. A beautiful blue…not cerulean or aquamarine… Cobalt is the closest I can think of, but darker, with white specks within it, making his irises resemble turbulent waves in the deep ocean, crashing against one another in a violent storm. Apt for a Wilde.
“You think I’m foolish enough to let you go after the hassle I just gave you?” I ask with a chuckle.
