Page 17 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

I can’t help myself. Hearing he’s the one who was petty enough to try to get revenge on Loni by going to the King himself… I absolutely refuse to let Jack think that Loni would ever let Desmond’s dick get anywhere near her.

Jack purses his lips. “You seem very invested in the Dougherty girl. Huh. Are you sure it wasn’t you, Adrian?”

I refuse to answer. If I say ‘yes’, my uncle would only use that as another reason to get rid of Loni. If I say ‘no’, I’m doing exactly what she accused me of.

So I don’t say anything definite at all, choosing instead to tell Jack: “They’re just rumors. You can’t believe any of them.”

Jack shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. I will say, though, that the girl didn’t deny it.”

She didn’t? “Okay. Then who was it then? Did she say it was Desmond in that room with her the other night?”

“She wouldn’t tell. Between the two of us, that just tells me that the little slut didn’t know how to keep her legs closed. She probably doesn’t even know who she was entertaining when she finally got caught.”

That’s bullshit. We were both virgins when I finally made my move.

Since then, I haven’t wanted to try out anyone else.

And Loni… even though I knew she was technically Desmond’s girlfriend these last two months, that was just a cover for our secret relationship.

While I was sliding home every chance I got, Desmond was lucky if he reached second base out of Loni’s sense of duty to the Order.

She honestly believed that, at the end of the summer, I would finish our fling and take Haven Smith as my future bride.

And maybe I didn’t do much to dissuade her of that belief, too worried that I’d scare her off with the intensity of my feelings…

it doesn’t matter. I’m formally Claiming Loni mine as soon as I can?—

—even sooner if I have to.

Like, oh, now .

“I want her, Jack.”

“What was that?”

Fuck. “Uncle Jack. I want to Claim her.”

He seems slightly mollified at my concession. It irks the poor bastard to no end that I award his wife the proper respect—because Aunt Reese is a sweetheart who deserved better for her Owed—but he’s only Uncle Jack when I want something, and even that is like pulling teeth for me.

“Her who? Haven. Of course. That pairing is already in our ledger. No one else will have the chance to Claim her until you do.”

My buddy Connor might have something to say about that…

Luckily for him, I won’t be standing in his way. “No. I don’t want Haven. I want Loni.”

Jack sighs. “Adrian. We’ve talked about this. You are a pureblood Owed. Your line goes all the way back to the first King in Harmony Heights. You can’t just have any Offering?—”

The hell I can’t.

“Dallas is your heir, Uncle Jack. Not me. If I can’t Claim the bride I want, then I won’t marry anyone at all.”

“Adrian. You don’t mean that. If you’re not married by the time you’re thirty?—”

“I lose my future standing in the Order. Yeah. I know.” And I don’t care one bit.

“So think about it, Uncle Jack.” I’ll ‘Uncle Jack’ him to death if I have to.

“Do you want me in the upper ranks with Dallas? Do you want me to keep working on the Order’s books?

Then you let me have this. I want Loni.”

A flash of fury darkens his eyes, but Jack pretends like he’s not currently fantasizing about throttling me. “She would have to accept your Claim. Will she?”

Good question. After the fallout from the graduation party, I can’t say with a hundred percent certainty that she will. I’ve never seen her so hurt, and I’ve done fucked-up things. I’ve pushed her away, kept her alone, did everything I could so that I would be the one she eventually relied on.

Did I go too far? I might’ve, but that’s nothing compared to how far I’ll go to get what I want.

Nothing is safe. No one is safe.

Except for Loni.

“Give me a piece of paper.”

“Think about what you’re doing, boy,” he says, even as he pulls open his desk, taking out a heavy piece of card stock that he uses for moments just like this.

“Don’t worry. I am.”

Then, before he can stop me, I dip my fingers into my front pocket. I usually keep my phone in the back right pocket, but the front one? That’s where my pocket knife lives.

With a quick flick, it’s open. And while I told Jack that I’m thinking about it, that’s a bald-faced lie because I’m not thinking at all as I slash down the center of my palm like a fucking idiot.

Recovery will be a bitch. Add that to how I’ll be formally inducted into the Order next month right before the annual Claiming ceremony, the heated iron branding the center of my right palm.

If my left hand isn’t healed enough by then, I’ll have two wounded palms, but it’ll be worth it to be able to do this.

I press my bloody hand to the card stock until a streaky red print is left behind on the page. I fist my hand, trying my best to stem the blood flow as I trade my knife for one of the expensive fountain pens Jack keeps on his desk.

I scribble my name and date at the bottom, then shove both the pen and the page toward Jack. “Seal it,” I tell him. “By my blood, I Claim Avalon Dougherty.”

There. A blood oath. It’s rare, but not unheard of. One of the bylaws in the Order’s charter, a future Owed can Claim their Offering before the Claiming ceremony if they swear it in blood. That way, if someone else tries to Claim her instead, my promise in blood is enough to overrule their Claims.

In the eyes of the Order, I’m swearing to take this woman, honor this woman, and protect her with everything in me. If she’s in danger, I will save her. If I have to die for her, I will. If I have to kill for her, that’s on the table, and the blood oath will mean I was justified.

I’d do it without the blood oath, but now that I have it… I’m one step closer to making Loni Dougherty mine for good.

Let Jack think I’m only doing that to spare her from the fate of being one of the Used. Loni didn’t tell him that I was the one in the room that night. She saved me, and from this moment on, I’ll dedicate my life to doing the same for her.

Jack sneers at the bloody print, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the Order’s notary seal and stamping it against his better judgment. “Remember, Adrian. She has to accept you. If not…”

I resent the implication that she won’t. So I made her life hell. I admit it, and I only hope I don’t end up regretting it. I did what I had to, and someday soon, she’ll understand that.

“I’ll make sure of it.”