by Fel Fern
Ragan had heard the song before. She stared out the window, guilt festering inside her. Garrett told the truth. Raquel Vivaldi might be a hard bastard, but he’d been an effective mob boss. Another reason why the alliance between the wolves and them had been needed—Ren’s wedding had to go smoothly.
“I’ll think about it,” Ragan promised.
Her answer seemed to satisfy Garrett. To solidify House Vivaldi, Raquel Vivaldi took several females as his official wives and mates. Raquel married for duty, not love. Could Ragan do the same? If she wielded more influence, could she make drastic changes?
Ragan leaned her head against the car window and closed her eyes. Fuck. Too tiring to think, especially when she needed all her wits tomorrow morning when she saw Rafe and Scott again and pretended nothing happened the night before.
Chapter Five
“We can put the band over by the gazebo. The dancing dwarfs by the buffet table and ten-layered wedding cake—”
Ren Vivaldi was cut off by his mate’s sharp intake of breath. “What dancing dwarfs?”
Lance Scavos let out a groan when Ren playfully punched his shoulder. “See? You’re not listening to me at all, you bastard.”
“It’s because you’re so fucking adorable when you’re all pissed, kitty,” Lance drawled. “Getting so huffy, hot, and bothered over the littlest things.”
Walking behind the happy couple as bodyguards, Rafe exchanged a “give me a break” look with Scott. Although he did have to admit Lance and Ren looked like an odd couple, Lance, broad shouldered, muscled, and taller than ever. Scott and Rafe who were already huge bastards, towered over his lean and handsome mate.
Rafe hadn’t really noticed Ren before, but he looked exactly like the male mirror image of his golden-haired and green-eyed twin. Since last night, Rafe couldn’t erase the memory of Ragan on her knees, naked, looking up at him for instructions. Damn.
“I need a drink after this,” Scott whispered to Rafe under his breath.
Rafe had to admit the sassy lion had taste. Lance would never pick such a classy location like the Woodsbury Gardens and Hotels if he made the arrangements. Located slightly off the beaten track and a couple of miles out of Stocoma City, the old Woodsbury Estate’s old stone mansion turned hotel was bordered by hectares of rose gardens.
Ren looked like he was about to deliver a retort to Lance when he paused, and looked at the entrance to the gardens. Rafe knew who entered even without looking up. Ragan walked up to them, flanked on either side by two Vivaldi goons sweating heavily in their suits. Dressed in a casual green sundress, Ragan looked very comfortable, young even, when she broke into a genuine smile when she caught sight of Ren.
In the shadows, she appeared older, a confident submissive and a woman who knew what she wanted. During the day, she looked deceiving, like any other young woman in her early twenties. No doubt another mask she put on, a tactic she used so her enemies would underestimate her. Fuck. Rafe didn’t need a reminder he and Scott must be ten years older, or think of her as an enemy.
Ren pulled her to a hug. Their eyes met. Rafe caught the flicker of hesitation in her emerald eyes, and then it disappeared, leaving nothing but cool regard.
Ren babbled on after they parted. “I’m so glad you came. I need someone to whine to. Lance is being an awful listener.”
Lance pulled Ren close to him, ignoring the growl from one of Ragan’s goons. “Ragan, let me make the introductions. This is Rafe Moon and Scott Haven, they’ll be working together with you regarding the wedding’s security measures.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Ragan gave them a polite smile, extending her hand.
“Likewise, sugar.” Scott clasped her hand, and Rafe didn’t miss the way she let out a tiny, barely noticeable gasp when he tightened his grip.
“That’s long enough. Let her hand go,” one of the goons hissed.
Ragan shook her head. “Luca, its fine.”
“Wise idea, kitten,” Rafe couldn’t help but say.
Luca snarled. “She is not your kitten. If you fucking call her that again—”
“Let’s not try starting random fires,” Ragan reminded him.
Scott mutely let her go. Luca looked like he had more to say, but he kept his mouth shut. The other one took his hand off the butt of the revolver tucked in his belt.
Rafe studied the lions more closely. Tailored suits, battle-hardened and if he nudged at their spiritual beasts he knew he wouldn’t find average or mediocre, so they weren’t standard fare. He presumed they were Ragan’s personal lieutenants, then, judging by how they obeyed her orders. Pretty impressive given Rafe sometimes had a hard time keeping his own men in line.
A strange stab of unwarranted jealously speared through him. Fuck, Scott and he never had a problem with sharing. Why was he suddenly so territorial of a female he knew could never be theirs?
Last night, she suppressed her spiritual lion at Collision, probably to maintain a low profile. Not today though. Rafe saw her tawny beast, which looked lazy and indifferent to the two male lions sniffing at her, but seeing their wolves, she raised her tail in greeting. Rafe’s own wolf uncoiled from sleep, fastening its amber eyes on her lion. He knew Scott’s beast did the same. Target acquired. Shit. Talk about doing things low-key. Riso’s eyes narrowed.
“This is Luca and Riso. More of my men will be arriving shortly.” Ragan turned to Lance and Ren as if nothing happened, although all of them probably sensed the thick tension. “We’re at your service. Let’s make sure nothing goes wrong in this wedding.”
“Ragan! You’re here,” another excited female interrupted.
Charity, London’s mate, came running toward them, grin plastered on her face. Rafe was surprised Ragan returned the grin. He hadn’t known she had been close to Charity, too.
“Don’t hog her, she’s mine.” Ren lifted his chin. They watched the three siblings catch up. Charity and Ragan followed Ren as he excitedly began walking and pointing at spaces. Lance looked visibly relieved.
“We will be at our assigned posts,” Luca told Rafe gruffly. He thankfully, headed out of the garden with Riso.
Once the lions were out of hearing range, Lance’s expression grew serious. “You two want to tell me what the hell was that all about?”
“What do you mean?” Rafe asked. Lance took a threatening step toward him, but Scott came by his shoulder.
“Calm down, Lance.”
“This is my wedding. If you’re not here to help, then go, because I intend to make this perfect for Ren,” Lance gritted out.
“Don’t you think we want the same?” Scott demanded.
“Then why are your wolves sniffing at Ragan Vivaldi like fucking horny wolf pups on their first mating season?” Lance nearly drew the attention of the three chattering siblings.
“Hon, is everything all right?” Ren called from across the garden.
Rafe nearly sniggered at the nickname, but Scott nudged him sharply in the ribs. Before Lance met Ren, no would dare attach a fuzzy nickname to the fierce enforcer.
“Everything’s fine, Ren. Isn’t it about time the wedding planner’s coming over? Why don’t you three go talk to her first?”
Ren gave the three of them suspicious looks. Ragan paused from her conversation with Charity to give them a contemplative look. Ragan didn’t seem worried. That meant they might still have a chance, because if Ragan really wanted to continue the script of pretending they were strangers, she would’ve coldly brushed off their beasts.
“Okay, then. Don’t take too long. We’ve decided on our wedding theme colors,” Ren finally said, before dragging Charity and Ragan back to the mansion.
Rafe didn’t know Lance well, but he knew enough. Lance had risked all, even the wrath of his alpha, to claim Ren. If there were one person in Stocoma City who would understand, it would be Lance. Rafe traded a look with Scott, and saw his mate come to the same conclusion.
“Start talking,” Lance warned.
Scott growled besi
de Rafe at the implied threat, but Rafe squeezed his shoulder until he relaxed. “Lance, what if we tell you we suspect Ragan is our mate?”
Lance burst out laughing. Scott frowned. Rafe narrowed his eyes until Lance quieted down, then studied their identical serious expressions. He felt Lance prod at their spiritual wolves and found their beasts awake, as determined as their human halves.
“Ragan Vivaldi?” Lance repeated as if he couldn’t wrap his head around the concept. “And you two?”
“What’s so hard to believe about that?” Scott demanded, insulted.
“Well, according to pack rumors, you both might occasionally pick up a female to share for a one-night stand, then drop her the next morning. Let me warn you trying to toy with Ragan is bound to backfire.”
Rafe bristled, remembering how vulnerable Ragan looked the night before when she thanked him. She’d let them into her secret, but the rest of the world only knew the public persona she projected—tough as steel, but fragile underneath. Pliant. Playful even. Jesus. Rafe hoped Lance couldn’t see how hard he was getting just thinking about Ragan. “We aren’t screwing around, Lance.”
Lance studied them for a few moments, and then shook his head. “If you two take this path, there’s no turning back. Do me a favor. Chase after her after the wedding, I don’t need further complications.”
Rafe couldn’t hide his surprise. Did Lance just give them his blessings? He sure mellowed out after mating Ren, Rafe decided. Before, Lance would’ve resorted to violence to sort matters out. Talk it out with claws and teeth, rather than words.
Scott answered for both of them. “We know what’s at stake. We’ll work together with the Vivaldi, cordially and professionally.”
“Good enough for me. Keep your feelings in line.” Lance left them, to answer his ringing phone. Rafe could hear Ren’s voice buzzing from the other end.
“Can we really do that? Keep away until the wedding’s over?” Scott asked Rafe in a low voice once Lance was out of hearing range.
“Like hell,” Rafe grumbled. “I wanted to rip that dress off her the moment I saw her. See if there’s any remains of the souvenirs we left behind on her skin last night.”
Scott rumbled in approval, then shook his head. “Lance is right. We need to control ourselves, at least until this is over. Too much is at stake.”
“We can try,” Rafe said. He ignored the pointed look Scott gave him. “Come on, let’s check the perimeter again. Do our jobs before Lance starts thinking we’re plotting something.”
Chapter Six
“Nothing out of the ordinary since you last checked with us,” Tom reported to Scott.
Standing beside him near the side gate, his partner Reeve, yawned, idle hand on the butt of his rifle. Scott gave the two wolves a wary look. They could have communicated by phone, but Scott decided Rafe and he needed to cool off. The more distance they put between them and Ragan, the better, so they decided to split up and make rounds around the estate. Not that it helped much.
Scott wondered if Rafe reenacted the events of last night in his head. The sweet way Ragan spilled over his lap, tits brushing against his leg, his hands fisted into her hair while she took his cock between her lips, and Rafe used the paddle on her ass. He growled, remembering he had a job to do, although it didn’t seem trouble was going to brew this early.
“Scott?” Tom hesitantly asked.
“Nothing. Call me when something happens.” Scott loosened his tie as he walked back to the estate, keeping his mind focused and sharp by going over the security plans.
A delighted laugh came from the nearby hedges, decidedly female and familiar. Despite his misgivings, Scott started walking toward that direction. He halted when he caught sight of Ragan, kneeling in the middle of the garden path, clutching a handful of tiny orange fur in her arms, free of guards.
She giggled when the cat licked at her face. His heartstrings tugged at the unexpected sight. Like this, she looked a lot less like the coldhearted Ragan Vivaldi. Not the submissive Scott and Rafe met last night either, but another facet he suddenly wanted to know. Fuck. Looking at her, Scott realized he was a greedy bastard. He wanted her. All of her, and he knew Rafe did, too.
Scott found himself walking up to her. She must have sensed movement, because her bare shoulders tensed. Tilting her head, she looked at him, her expression instantly relaxing.
“That tiny tabby reminds me of you,” Scott remarked. He was secretly pleased she seemed comfortable enough in his presence to relax her guard.
“How so?” She squinted at the animal who pawed at her.
“Certainly mewls like you. Want to bet it loves to cuddle like you, too, kitten?” Scott asked.
Ragan’s cheeks turned a delightful pink. His legs brushed her spine now, and she leaned against him, stroking the cat in her arms. This close, Scott could breathe in her scent. Distinctively Ragan—a whiff of some summer cologne she used, and a slight tinge of vanilla and some kind of soap. He knew he was tempting fate, but he couldn’t help but reach for the plain rubber band holding her hair together in a braid. Scott tugged it off, freeing her hair so he could spear his fingers through. Her vibrant green eyes grew wide, then slowly relaxed as he began stroking her hair.
“I prefer you wear your hair unbound, kitten. Suits you much better.”
Instead of pushing him away, or asking him to keep his distance, Ragan made a pleased sound in her throat and began rubbing her cheek against his pants like a kitten. The animal in her arms purred, mimicking the woman who held it.
There were another set of footsteps nearby, but Scott knew from the sound and the resonating pulse connecting him to his mate, it was Rafe.
“Scott, weren’t you just talking about controlling ourselves only an hour ago?” Rafe chided. Scott looked down, seeing Ragan stir from the sound of Rafe’s voice. Rafe joined them, kissing Scott quickly on the cheek in greeting before looking down. “Hello, kitten. Aren’t you a pretty picture, kneeling like that and rubbing yourself all over Scott?”
Ragan made a protesting sound in her throat, clutched the cat in her arms, and awkwardly parted from Scott’s touch. She dusted the hem of her dress with one hand as she stood.
“Look what you did,” Scott grumbled to Rafe.
“I-I need to go, before Luca and Riso start looking for me,” Ragan muttered. She was about to turn away, but Rafe caught her wrist. Scott noticed the band of her wristwatch hardly covered the fading pink line left behind by the rope Carter used on her the night before.
“Don’t run away, kitten. We need to talk,” Rafe firmly said. The tone he used was his Dom voice. Ragan seemed to recognize it, too, because she instinctively obeyed.
“Talk?” She warily asked.
“About the way you reacted to Scott, and about how all this pretending isn’t working,” Rafe said.
Rafe began rubbing at her wrist, and Scott noticed the uneven rise and fall of her chest. Scott positioned himself behind her, tucking her tiny frame against his shoulder. Ragan didn’t fight him when he banded his arm possessively around her waist, as if she also knew the truth she’d never acknowledge.
That she was a perfect fit to Rafe and him. There could really only be explanations why strangers who only met the night before could form an instant connection like this. Ragan was undeniably their mate. Theirs to bind, fuck, take possession of, and leave their marks on her skin, and also theirs to hold, make love to and cuddle.
“That’s better. Don’t you feel a lot better with us holding you?” Rafe asked. “You look so tense, baby. Maybe what you need is a quick breather.”
“We can’t. Not here,” she whispered. She looked a lost golden princess trying to shake off sleep. “This is important to Ren. I won’t wreck it for him.”
Scott heard the real fear there, Along with the resolve and determination. Ragan loved her brother, he realized and probably saw her twin as her only real family. He remembered the haunting sense of loneliness Rafe and he unearthed the night before, and
understood despite growing up in a large pride, she felt utterly alone.
“All right, kitten. We understand.” Scott stole a quick kiss on the side of her neck before letting go. Rafe reluctantly followed his lead.
“Don’t I get a kiss from you?” Ragan asked Rafe.
Rafe grinned, kissing her lightly on the lips, before leaning his forehead against hers. The position was awkward given Rafe was nearly a head taller, but Scott thought it was nonetheless sweet. Very few people he’d known could make his mate show his vulnerable side.
“Demanding little kitten. We need to correct that soon,” Rafe said.
“Yes, Sir. Looking forward to it,” she whispered against his ear.
“Ragan, there you are,” Ren interrupted.
He appeared from the other end of the path, closing his mouth when Rafe and Scott quickly parted from her. Jesus, Lance’s mate could get the fucking wrong idea.
“Thank you for letting me know about the little security detail,” Ragan quickly said, before returning to her brother.
Ren gave them an unfriendly look hot enough to burn before pulling his twin to his side. Scott could hear Ren’s demanding voice, asking what the hell that was all about.
“Kitten always seems to be thanking us lately,” Rafe mused.
Kitten. Rafe said the affectionate nickname like Ragan already belonged to them. “I agree, but we can’t repay her the favor yet. We need to respect her decision.”
Rafe sucked in a breath. “Fuck. Things were going fine you know after Lance had that talk about keeping it in our pants until after the wedding. Then this happened, and I want her even more.”
Since his mate obviously felt so needy, Scott brought him close against him, and nipped at his neck. “Think of it as good practice for your sense of control.”