by Ella Fields
Ignoring it, I looked at Fern. Smooth skin slid over mine. Greedy, my fingers curled around hers, pulling her up the steps to stand across from me.
Under my breath, I whispered, “You’re not attending a fucking funeral, darling.”
“But aren’t I?” She might have been smiling, but as my father read us our vows, and we repeated them back to one another, I watched sadness encompass her eyes.
I’d overheard an argument between her and Cory a week ago on the phone, and I’d noticed Fern stare at it since, hoping she’d call after leaving her what I knew had to be numerous voicemails.
My wife did nothing in half measures.
If she wanted something, she was all in, and it was evidently hurting her that not only was her friend not here, but Cory didn’t seem to be in her life at all right now.
She was alone in the woods, and her mother had personally delivered her to the wolves. No matter what dress or attitude she wore, nor the fake smile, she was a fumbling lamb easily slaughtered.
I supposed it was my job to protect her now.
An impossible feat, considering I was the one she needed protection from.
We slid our rings on. Mine was a basic gleaming silver band.
Fern’s was so loaded with rocks she couldn’t hide her distaste, her forehead crinkling behind her veil as she glared at me.
Crimson lips pinched as we stared, and when some of that loathing dripped away, I wondered what she was thinking.
“You may now kiss the bride,” my father’s voice boomed.
I released her hands to lift her stupid veil, revealing those huge eyes. They were watching me in a way that spoke of fear, as though this were the first time we were going to kiss.
A first kiss as husband and wife and also our last.
We both knew that, and maybe that was why when I clasped her cheeks, I did so gently. Maybe that was why when her eyes met mine a moment before our mouths joined, my heart pinched.
And maybe that was why what I’d planned to be a chaste caress slid into all-out war.
I lost the ability to care about our surroundings, our grudges, and the people nearest us when her breath tumbled from her lips to scorch my own. Her mouth still fit seamlessly to mine, and her tongue still welcomed me with ardent reverence when I tilted her head.
Cheering and clapping erupted, and we broke apart.
Her eyes were wet, sorrow and anger creating cloudy sapphires.
Slowly, I removed my hands and took hers as we turned to each and every asshole in the room.
People from London were in attendance, and I dropped my gaze to the front row, to Henry, before what was happening revealed itself in any more gut-kicking ways.
As we did the rounds, heading to the reception in the connecting room, I realized people from Australia were here, too.
How naïve of me not to realize how big of a deal the marriage of an alpha’s son was. I was glad I hadn’t known just how big a deal until the matter was taken care of or else I might have arrived drunk or high or not at all.
Fern was pulled away by her mother and introduced to a range of men and women I’d rather not talk to. I stayed with my father, discussing the political climate in the UK with his old friend while downing bourbon after bourbon.
Henry found me before I could get another refill. “You married that girl. The one who came into my room.”
Fern, now standing in a small group of ladies nearby, glanced over and offered a tight smile.
“I know,” I said, looking away.
“I wonder if she heard from her dad.”
I crunched down on an ice cube too hard and coughed. “What?”
“She told me about him.”
“She did?” I frowned, thinking back to when Henry had informed me of the red-haired girl coming to see him that night. “You never told me she stayed.”
He looked at me as though he couldn’t understand why that would matter. “Well, she did. She read me stories after we talked. Guess you got her big love.”
I swallowed and tried to digest this new, rather unpleasant knowledge. “Big love?”
Henry shrugged. “It’s a secret.”
I looked over at Red, who was wearing a polite smile as Henrietta Gabe talked her ear off. “Right.” I clapped Henry on the shoulder, then told him to find Silas, who was seated in the corner of the room with a bottle of scotch hanging between his knees.
Then I went to steal my bride. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies, I’m already missing my wife.”
They clucked and cooed, Fern waving a little as I tugged her to the dance floor for our first dance.
The room quieted, the lights dimming, and with a tremble in her hands, Fern looped them behind my neck. “You say the sweetest lies.”
I hummed, enjoying the way her stomach pressed into my cock, warm and soft and legally mine. Lowering my head, I pulled her closer until we were almost hugging while slowly rocking from side to side.
My nose skimmed her hairline, strawberries mingling with hairspray, and I clutched her lower back. “Henrietta would’ve eaten you alive.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t leave me there then,” she murmured.
“Red, I’m the only one allowed to taste your tears.”
She laughed, then sighed, leaning into me as though she was trying to relax. “Who is she?”
“Henrietta?”
She nodded.
“She’s the wife of London’s alpha, Benjamin Gabe.”
The name alone evoked a small shiver. I didn’t bother placating her. He was as filthy and crooked as they came, and she’d do well to listen to her instincts. “Your father was in the London chapter.”
“Second Tier. Benjamin had him transferred without warning and consent, knowing he was a threat to his throne.”
Fern snorted, lifting her head from my shoulder. “I need an encyclopedia. A spreadsheet, even.” I chuckled at that, then sobered when she blurted, “And I’ll be needing my diary back, husband.”
Pushing her out, I twirled her, and she came back to me wide-eyed before scowling. “Impossible, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t want to ask, but I know you’ll make me.” Her fingers curved into the fabric of my tux. “Why?”
I licked my lips, then grinned. “All that remains are ashes, and even those are probably long gone by now.”
Her intake of breath was violent enough to rise and drop those fantastic tits, and to be heard over the music. “Fitting,” she said, relaxing against me once more. “Considering it’s rather similar to the disappearance of my feelings for you.”
I felt my eye twitch, and my mouth hardened.
She kissed it until it softened, then fled when the song ended.
Fern
Our wedding night was spent alone.
We came home in the same car and then went our separate ways as soon as the front door slammed closed behind us.
My dress was a thing of art, so even though I’d planned to throw it out the window of the second story onto the hood of Jude’s Range Rover, I decided that would be a waste.
I’d keep it as a reminder that one day, I would have a real wedding in a white dress.
That was why I’d worn black. Jude didn’t get to take that from me, too.
Busy with school and an overdue paper early in the week after, I hadn’t seen him since.
“You don’t need to explain,” my aunt Ray said to me when I’d walked into her café the following Wednesday to finish said paper.
She brought me cup after cup of coffee, replacing it with water and a sandwich when the sun began to prepare for sleep.
Sliding into the booth opposite me, Ray eyed my computer.
I hit save and closed it, dragging the food closer with a growling stomach. “Thank you.”
“Nice rocks.” Laughter filled her eyes as she nodded to my hand, but it was soon replaced with concern. “You doing okay?”
“Fine,” I lied, chewing.
She hummed. “Cory
came in just yesterday, looking about as exhausted as you.”
“She’s not talking to me,” I said, something pinching inside my chest. “We had a fight.” It wasn’t so much a fight but rather her telling me we were breaking up over the phone when she’d finally picked up days after I’d left her reeling on campus.
Ray didn’t need to ask many questions. It became increasingly apparent that she knew more than she should, but not enough to be a concern to my mother and her peers. “Well,” she said, scooping up sugar granules into her hand and dusting them into my empty mug. “If she’s your friend, and I wholeheartedly believe that she is, she will eventually come around.”
“I don’t know about that.” And I couldn’t explain why.
Her blue eyes snatched mine, her mouth set. “Patience, Ferny. Do not let your heart grow so disenchanted that you lose the ability to empathize, you hear?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I hear you.”
My phone rang, and my aunt took away my mug and saucer while I dug it out of my bag.
Jude. I ignored it and finished half my sandwich before it rang again.
And then again.
“Gah,” I said through bread and chicken. “What do you want?”
His deep baritone cut the annoyance away and replaced it with trepidation. “Get home and get ready.”
“For what?” I asked, crumbs flying from my mouth.
I picked them up with the pad of my finger as he said, “Your first glimpse of true debauchery awaits. We leave in half an hour.” The line went dead.
Shit. It would take me fifteen minutes to drive home.
Gathering my things, I scrambled out of the booth, waving the other half of my dinner in the air in goodbye.
My aunt watched on, her head tilting as she wiped her hands on a towel. “Drive safe!”
Jude was already dressed in yet another fitted tuxedo, this one a dark green, almost black, when I rushed from the car and darted inside.
He followed me upstairs. “You weren’t going to answer my call. What were you doing?”
After dropping my computer, phone, and purse onto my dresser, I flung open the doors to my small walk-in. “I have a paper due tomorrow.”
“So…?”
“So,” I said, plucking a dress off the hanger. “I was at Ray’s while she caffeinated me, and I finished it.”
“Hardly an excuse, but whatever.” Jude picked up my phone from the dresser, and I didn’t stop him. “You already have my number saved. How?”
I slipped my feet into my black pumps, and uncaring that he was in the room, I stripped off my yellow sundress and replaced it with a dark gray cocktail one.
It sat over my chest like a snug velvet blanket, the bell skirt exploding around my hips to meet my knees in what resembled an upside-down umbrella. I shoved my hand inside the bodice and pulled off my bra, flinging it onto the bed. It had one built-in, so I didn’t bother with a strapless.
“Jesus,” I heard him mutter. He then cleared his throat. “My number. How and why do you have it?”
“You no doubt saw my old walk-in back home.” He didn’t answer, which I took for a firm yes. I dashed into my bathroom, knowing he’d follow. He did, leaning against the doorframe with my phone still in hand while I applied some mascara and lipstick. “How do you think I took the pictures of you?”
I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know he’d stiffened. His voice was a little hoarse, as he said with a low laugh, “You used my phone.”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “Clever boy.” Then I got to work on fixing my hair. With no time to fix the rogue mess of curls, I settled for quickly straightening the top half and then fluffed the ends with a spritz of hairspray.
Jude was still standing there when I turned around. “Ready.”
Smirking, he eyed me up and down before handing me my phone. “Let’s go.”
He left my room, and I stuffed my phone into a tiny black purse with my keys before following him downstairs.
I locked and closed the door behind me, noticing he’d left the passenger side door of his car open. Yeah, not happening. I swallowed down the kernel of curiosity to see if his car was still crystal clean and headed for my own.
Inside, I put the car in reverse, and the sensors immediately exploded. “What the hell?”
In the camera, a dark green suit and slivers of skin could be seen, the rest of his hands inside his pockets. “Seriously?” I called and turned down the volume as he rounded the car and opened my door. “What are you doing?”
“Out. We are enemies on the same team, get in my car.”
“I’d rather not go at all.”
My gaze moved from the glimpse of skin at his neck, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, to his eyes. They flashed with humor. “Not an option, unless you’d like to lose a fingernail.”
“What?” I felt my face scrunch.
“You heard me.” He reached in and hit the ignition button, then reached around me, his scent smothering and drowning my senses, to unlatch my seat belt. Pulling back, he stayed leaning inside the car, his face inches from mine to enunciate in a heated whisper that reeked of minty breath and honesty, “There are consequences for missing annual events such as this. You must attend, and we must attend together. Out.”
I waited until he’d stepped back before moving. He then fetched my purse and closed the door. “Lock it. You never know when the campus vultures come out to play.”
“Okay,” I said, doing so as we climbed into his car. “Vultures?”
“The non-island folk who come from no money think it’s cute to search unlocked cars and homes for expensive belongings and cash.”
My brows jumped, and he turned, looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the drive even though he had a reverse camera, too. Our cars were exactly the same model, the only difference being the color and all the fancy exterior extras on his.
Yes, I’d picked it right after I’d seen him bring his home. A decision I felt immensely stupid for now.
Straightening the wheel, he muttered, “There is sheltered, and then there is January Denane’s daughter.”
“Hey,” I snapped, clipping on my seat belt. “She wanted to protect me.”
“She wanted to find a way to keep you out entirely, knowing that would never be possible,” he said. “She should’ve spent more time preparing you.”
My comment was more snide than I’d intended. “What, like your dad did?”
“Precisely.”
I blinked, and then I snorted. “Seems there were many cons to that, too, what with your stellar personality and those inner demons and all.”
He couldn’t refute that, just clenched his jaw and took off down the street.
We sat in silence for the twenty-five-minute drive, and as we sped into town and past our old homes, a pang fluttered and spread inside my chest.
Studying the impeccable interior of Jude’s car, I wondered where Henry was. Not a speck of dust lingered on anything. He would’ve been horrified when he’d opened the door to mine and spotted the gum wrappers and lipstick in the center console, the smudges on the buttons and the screen in the dash.
Whatever. I wasn’t a slob; he just had outrageously high standards.
“Where’s Henry?” I decided to ask as Jude pulled into The Ribbon and drove down the side to the rear where a valet had been set up.
“Sleepover with one of his school friends.”
It made me smile to know the night terrors hadn’t chased his childhood away in that respect.
“He told me you read to him,” Jude said. “I didn’t know until the wedding.”
I’d come to learn the dark prince’s voice grew lower, rougher, when he wanted something and when he was feeling a certain way about something. The cold apathy vanished, if only for fleeting moments.
I didn’t know what to say to that, being that one of the reasons Jude had been cruel to me at school appeared to be associated with the fact I’d introduced myself to his br
other. So I said nothing and opened my own door before the valet or Jude could do so, needing away from the heavy air that’d infiltrated his car.
The young man with a large dark tattoo on his neck, dressed in a black vest and matching slacks, nodded at me, then took the keys from Jude. “Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Delouxe.” He nodded at Jude. “Your father is already here.”
“Thanks, Timmo.”
Hearing my new surname out loud knocked me sideways a little. Jude took my hand in his, and I couldn’t help but feel a little thankful. “What’s the tattoo around his neck?” I murmured out the side of my mouth. Warm and firm, his hold was beginning to feel all too familiar once more.
I hated it. I hated that I didn’t hate it enough.
“I don’t know, a zombie badger or some shit.” Jude nodded at two security guards near the elevator. “Why don’t you ask him?”
The suggestion was evidently a barb at what he deemed to be my less than appropriate evenings spent with other guys.
“Rude,” I said, watching as he pressed the pad of his thumb to the screen inside the elevator.
“Me? You’re the one spreading your legs even though you’re married.”
I bit back my instinctual retort, deciding with, “Like you haven’t spread someone else’s, hypocrite.”
The doors opened. Jude coughed down a laugh when his father’s brows rose. “Hi,” he said, eyeing me curiously. It was unnerving how he was so much like his son, except for the eyes.
I struggled to find my voice. “Hey, uh, I mean, hello.”
His mouth wriggled, eyes lighting briefly with amusement. He then walked beside Jude as we headed down the hall. “You’ve prepared her?”
Jude’s hand stiffened, his fingers tightening around mine. “We got distracted, but really,” he said, so dry I almost winced, “is there any way to prepare someone for what they’re about to see?”
His dad exhaled, rough with impatience. “You could at least attempt to make it easier.”
“It wasn’t made easy for me.”
“Jude,” he said, tone curt.