by Amira Rain
I didn’t know, so I didn’t know what to say.
When I didn’t respond after a moment or two, Ryan continued, searching my face in the dim light of a single, overhead light somewhere down the hallway. “Look. I’m just going to come out and say it. I want you to stay. I think we can work through all these animal problems. The choice is up to you, though. Do you want to stay?”
What I wanted was to ask him a question that had formed in my mind during my bath, so I did. “Just answer me this, Ryan. How can a man who is kind to snakes and dogs dislike cats? Jill told me about how you saved the snake and rescued Jake, and I just can’t reconcile that in my mind with how you feel about cats. So, please, just tell me…how can you like other animals, but just not cats? Are common housecats the natural mortal enemy of wolf shifters or something?”
Mouth twitching with amusement, Ryan gave me a pointed look. “Believe it or not, no. And also believe it or not, like I’ve been saying all night or at least have been trying to say, I don’t dislike cats.”
“Well…well, why were you upset earlier, then? Was it just how Plum and Quiet upset Jake? Or that Jill didn’t tell you that I had cats? Or…what was it?”
Making the faintest of sighs with his amused expression fading, Ryan shifted his gaze to the floor for a second or two before returning it to my face. “I have a not-so-great, cat-related memory from my childhood, that’s all. Just something that has always made me think back to the past whenever I see a cat, and I don’t like doing that. I’m fine with having the cats in the house, though, really. I’m a big boy, and big boys don’t dwell on not-so-great memories.”
Intensely curious, I studied Ryan’s face for a moment. “Well…what’s the memory? I mean…you don’t have to tell me, of course, but you can if you want to.”
Ryan gave me a small smile that didn’t even remotely reach all the way up to his eyes. “Well, I don’t mind telling you, but I won’t tell you the details because I don’t want to pass the memory and the images of it along to you, if you get what I mean.”
I moved my head in a ghost of a nod. “Yes…and thank you for that.” Again, I studied Ryan’s face briefly. “What happened? And when? How old were you?”
He didn’t answer right away, moving his gaze to a spot just above my shoulder, as if looking at something in the distance or looking back in time, before returning his gaze to my face. “I was ten. Around the time that all of this happened with the cat, I’d been doing a lot of very fast growing up and wondering who I was going to be as man. I never did fully figure that out until later, but on the particular night that everything happened, I’d figured out the kind of man I wouldn’t be. I thought, ‘Well, I’ll never be a man like him.’”
Having a good guess what the response might be, I asked the question anyway. “A man like whom?”
Again, Ryan gazed over my shoulder briefly before returning his gaze to my face. “My dad. He was a not-very-nice man, especially when he drank. My mom had died, and my dad had a girlfriend named Angie, who was an okay lady. She had a cat. Like I said, I don’t want to pass my memory and images onto you, so to make a very long story, very short and undetailed, my dad intentionally killed Angie’s cat one night in a rage, and Angie and I witnessed it.” Pausing for just a second, Ryan swallowed. “My dad died two years later, and I wasn’t sad. I went to live with some adult cousins, and their home was better, but it certainly wasn’t perfect. When I was seventeen, I left, and I joined the military not long after. Fast-forward a decade and a couple of years, and I became a wolf shifter, decided we should establish our own nation, and ended up here. And now you pretty much know my whole life story.”
Ryan smiled, but I didn’t return it. My heart was too heavy for him.
Instead, acting on impulse, I took his free hand, the one that wasn’t braced against the doorframe. “Something tells me you’re nothing like your dad, Ryan, in any way. You’ll be just fine around the cats. You’ll never hurt them in a rage like your dad. And maybe, in time, Plum and Quiet can help replace some of the not-so-great cat images in your mind.”
Frowning slightly, though with the inner parts of his dark eyebrows tilting upward, Ryan just looked at me for a moment, then nodded, clearing his throat and giving my hand a little squeeze at the same time. “I need to text Jill back about your flowers. What kind would you like?”
I’d thought long and hard about what kind of flowers I wanted at my wedding—had thought about it for a few years actually, but I now felt funny about what I wanted, so I just shrugged. “Just tell her whatever the florist has a surplus of. It really doesn’t-“
“No…no way, Julia. I’m sure you have a preference, so just say it. This is your special day. You should have the flowers that you want.”
Again, I shrugged, suddenly feeling profoundly embarrassed and having difficulty maintaining eye contact with Ryan. “It really doesn’t matter. The flowers I want are stupid, so-“
“How can flowers be ‘stupid?’”
That was a great question, and one I didn’t have an answer for. I just knew that I was feeling pretty stupid.
“Please, just tell Jill to have the florist dragon-fly me in whatever flowers there are a surplus of. Honestly. I don’t care what kind, what color, or-“
“What kind of flowers do you want at our wedding, Julia?”
Something about the tone of Ryan’s voice told me that I was going to have to tell him. I couldn’t look at him anymore, though, and so, with my face hot, I fixed my gaze on a part of the hallway just to his left. “I’ve always loved wildflowers, and I’ve always had this dumb idea that maybe my husband-to-be would specifically pick some for me for my wedding bouquet. I’m like you, though…I’ve never really found true love before, and I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I’ve kind of moved past believing in fairy tales. I’m just here because I want a baby and a family. I’m not some kind of special snowflake who has to have her fairy-tale flowers at her wedding. In fact, the whole thing is really embarrassing me right now. So, please, just tell Jill to order me some surplus roses or something, any color.” Pausing, I shifted my gaze back to Ryan’s face with my own face still hot. “And if you don’t do this….” I paused again briefly, having not prepared a proper threat. “If you don’t do what I’ve asked, I guess all I can say is that you’ll be sorry.”
Caressing the back of my hand, Ryan looked at me with his gray eyes twinkling. “Hmm… interesting. But how will you make me sorry? If you’re going to make a threat, you’re going to have to be more specific.”
Now I was embarrassed and irritated because I knew damn well he was teasing me.
“If you don’t do what I’ve asked you to, well…I can’t say I’m one for violence, but I may come in your room very late at night and do something to scare the living daylights out of you. I might creep in and flip your dresser or something.”
“Will you come in with your gorgeous breasts spilling out of your robe? Because I think I might really like that.”
Now my cheeks were flaming, and I felt compelled to shift my gaze from Ryan’s face again.
“I think we should both go to sleep right now in our respective rooms because we’re probably going to have a long day tomorrow with the wedding and all.”
And with the wedding night, I thought, somewhat in disbelief that my mind was moving in all sorts of sensual directions in regards to what Ryan had said, even in the midst of my embarrassment.
Ryan gave my hand a light squeeze, then surprised me by picking it up and pressing his lips to the back of it for a long moment. The sensation was so pleasurable that I curled my toes into the hardwood floor.
Then, lowering my hand but still holding it, he looked into my eyes. “Get some rest, Julia, and have sweet dreams.”
“Okay.”
Instantly, “Okay” struck me as an asinine response, although considering how jumbled my thoughts had become just from the feel of Ryan’s lips on the back of my hand, it had been the best I’d been abl
e to come up with.
Full lips curving in a smile, he lifted my hand and kissed it once again before releasing it, turning, and heading down the hallway to his room next door, where I’d been hearing sounds every so often that indicated Jake was already in there.
Watching Ryan go, I had a sudden thought that cut through my kiss-induced haze, and I asked him to wait up a second. “At the risk of sounding like we’re an old married couple already, I have to ask you a question.”
He turned to look at me. “What is it?”
“Did you turn off the crockpot before you came up here?”
Even in the dim light, I could see one side of his mouth lift in a devastatingly sexy half-grin.
“I’ll go do it. Goodnight, Julia.”
“Goodnight, Ryan.”
After closing my bedroom door, I found pajamas in my bag, dressed, and brushed my teeth before getting into bed, sure I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anytime in the near future. Not with the skin on the back of my hand still tingling from where Ryan’s lips had touched it. However, I watched the digital clock on the nightstand closest to me turn from 9:59 to 10:00 right before I closed my eyes, and I was out like a light probably not even a minute later.
I slept hard, maybe harder than I had in years, and I felt like I’d been out for days when I awoke around 7:30 the next morning. Bright sunlight was filtering through the cream-colored curtains covering the numerous windows in my room, and after a trip to the bathroom, I parted the curtains covering one window, curious to see the view. It was beautiful, and not just because the wildflower field that was the backyard was utterly breathtaking in the sun.
With his dark hair gleaming in the golden rays, Ryan was picking wildflowers. He had already filled several enormous, white buckets with them. The night before, I truly hadn’t wanted any fuss made, thinking it would just embarrass me further, and I truly had just wanted Ryan to text Jill requesting roses or whatever flower the florist had a surplus of. But now, watching Ryan pick my wildflowers for our wedding, I smiled, feeling my heart do a happy, little flip.
CHAPTER SIX
Our wedding ceremony was very brief and to the point, with standard vows that sounded to me like lines of dialogue from a book or a movie from the 1950s. I didn’t mind at all. Because of the high volume of weddings taking place in Briarwood, and the speed with which they were taking place, these standard vows were being used for all of the weddings. Besides, there was something I kind of liked about them. Instead of feeling impersonal or comically old-fashioned, they struck me as classic and timeless.
When the non-religious officiant, who was an older shifter maybe in his fifties, pronounced us husband and wife and then gave Ryan permission to kiss me, I suddenly experienced a rush of nerves much more intense than the butterflies I’d experienced while walking down the aisle, which I’d done with an arm hooked around one of Jill’s. Since none of the brides in Briarwood had their fathers around to “give them away,” Jill had declared herself “unofficial village father,” offering her “bride-giving-away services” to any bride who wanted to take her up on the offer. The other four brides getting married that day besides me had politely declined, but I’d said sure, finding the funny idea of being “given away” by my twenty-one-year-old, slightly-goofy, new friend irresistible. In fact, highly amused and even fighting giggles at times, I had to credit Jill for ensuring that my butterflies never became a sensation of full-tilt stomach churning.
However, my amusement had faded once I’d gotten maybe halfway up the carpeted aisle in the middle of the town hall and had gotten a good look at Ryan, who was almost impossibly handsome in a dove-gray suit just a few shades lighter than his eyes. And now, post-ceremony, he was going to kiss me for the first time in front of maybe two hundred Briarwood citizens, all of them so quiet that a pin dropping in the hall could have been heard. Having chosen to not wear a veil of any kind, I looked directly into Ryan’s eyes with my heart pounding.
Fortunately, my attack of nerves didn’t last long because Ryan soon gently but firmly pulled me into his arms and brought his mouth to mine, sending a current of electricity racing through my stomach. Perhaps sensing that I didn’t want a full make-out session in front of a large crowd, he broke our kiss after a few seconds, then kissed me again just briefly before taking my hand and turning, smiling, to face everyone assembled. To loud applause and even a few whistles, the officiant announced us as “Commander and Mrs. Ryan Wallace,” which sent another little current of electricity racing through my stomach. I knew the patriarchal-sounding proclamation might have put some women off, might have even enraged some women, but I personally liked the sound of it. Ryan was now my husband. He was now my protector. Which wasn’t to say that I saw myself as some delicate, wilting violet who couldn’t fight to protect herself if the need ever arose, but I now felt as if I had a partner in my own potential defense, which was a nice feeling after spending my adult life on my own, single. On the flip side, now that he was my husband, I knew I’d fight to protect Ryan with everything in me if he ever needed my help, and if there was ever any help I could provide. Considering that he was a shifter, and physically stronger than a regular human man, I doubted he’d ever need my physical “muscle,” but who knows, I figured. I knew one thing for certain, though, and that was that Ryan and I would be partners in protecting our future child or children, a thought I liked a lot. Already, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to defend a child of ours.
Clutching a bouquet of wildflowers tied with a cream-colored satin ribbon in my free hand, I walked down the aisle holding Ryan’s hand, smiling, while all our wedding guests clapped and cheered. At the end of the aisle, standing next to the large wooden double doors, which had been decorated with garlands of wildflowers, Hillary took pictures, setting off her camera’s bright flash at least once a second. Nearby, standing next to an enormous vase of wildflowers on a wooden stand, Jill took “backup pictures” with a cellphone because Hillary was still getting the hang of her new camera and was worried about the bride and groom not having any wedding pictures if something malfunctioned.
Glancing over at each other, grinning, Ryan and I had nearly made it to the double doors when one of them suddenly flew open, revealing Jill’s husband David, who was panting and red-faced, despite being a very young, very fit shifter. He hadn’t attended the wedding because he’d been one of the many shifters who couldn’t be spared from guard duty.
After a few quick gasps for air, he looked at Ryan and spoke with his voice echoing slightly in the now-silent hall. “Graywolves. Spies. Several got in. One of them was Bennett. I saw him. No one hurt. Other guards are chasing them right now.”
Before David had even finished speaking, Ryan planted a very hasty kiss on the side of my face and began running toward David and the door. “Sorry, Julia. Sorry, everyone.”
And then he was gone, leaving me standing in the aisle, clutching my bouquet, dejected though understanding at the same time. While the assembled crowd murmured and wooden benches creaked, Jill sauntered over to me, clearly completely used to her husband being in dangerous situations.
“Well, do you want to see what wolf shifters look like?”
I did, so Jill took me by the hand and began leading me over to a row of wide windows on one side of the hall. “They pretty much just look like regular wolves, maybe just a bit bigger.”
I’d never even seen a regular wolf up close, or at a distance, either.
When we reached the windows, Jill pointed to something in the distance. “See? They’ve already shifted. It happens in a blink, and their clothes just shift right along with them.” Jill paused, her pointer finger moving. “Now, look fast, before they disappear into those trees. Commander Wallace is that bigger gray wolf, the one on the right. Shifters are generally a bit bigger and longer in proportion to how big and tall they are in their human forms.”
A bit awestruck, I watched while the large wolf Jill had identified as Ryan sped toward the trees with David
close on his heels. The fact that I was married to a man who could literally transform into a wolf at will was definitely going to take some getting used to.
“And now, see how Ryan’s fur is a lighter gray, but he has that darker gray patch on his head between his ears? That’s how you can identify him when he’s in wolf form. All of them have different fur variations that will help tell you who’s who once you’ve seen them all a few times.”
Ryan had already raced into the forested area before I’d been able to really get a good look at his fur, not to mention that he’d probably been too far away anyway, but I was glad to know that I’d be able to identify him by his unique fur coloring in the future.
Our wedding had been the last of that afternoon’s weddings, and soon, everyone in the hall moved out back for the reception party for all five of the couples that had been married that afternoon. Jill, Hillary, and many other women in the village had transformed a massive, aluminum-sided outbuilding into one of the most beautiful reception venues I’d ever seen in my life, with thousands of tiny, twinkling, white lights strung across the high ceiling; tables covered in pristine white linen tablecloths, with white votive candles and clear glass vases of various kinds of flowers; and a buffet table groaning beneath the weight of three, large ice sculptures. In addition to her other talents, Jill was something of an artist, and she was skilled in creating ice sculptures using only a small electric hand saw and a few other non-electric tools.
Once most everyone had filed into the outbuilding, there was some discussion about whether the party should be delayed, on account of all five grooms being absent. Right after Ryan and David had bolted out of the town hall, the four other grooms had taken off after them because all four were members of Ryan’s elite pack. Then, a few dozen members of what everyone called the “larger pack” left, leaving only a dozen or so men left in the hall. Now, in the outbuilding, the group assembled was made up of those dozen men and well over a hundred women, most of whom hadn’t had their husbands as wedding companions anyway because their husbands had been required to do guard duty.