Page 2 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

So, no. Whether you’re a longtime member or just about to get branded in, the Order comes first.

Desmond waggles his fingers at me. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“No,” cuts in Adrian. “Just you. But don’t worry about Loni, Des. I’ll make sure she gets back to the party in one piece.”

Desmond chews his tongue. It’s obvious he wants to argue, that leaving me with another boy—especially this boy—is the last thing he wants to do, but it’s Adrian Heller, so Des just looks at me again.

“That okay with you?”

I’m an Offering. Before my mom died, my parents put me through etiquette school—that didn’t really take—and ingrained in me that, in Harmony Heights, we must always obey one of the Owed. Even if he isn’t quite Owed yet…

“Of course,” I say, trying to sound as meek as possible.

Over Desmond’s shoulder, Adrian smirks. It’s gone by the time the other boy turns to face him, but I know what I saw.

Shivers of excitement go up and down my spine.

Meek, remember? Stay meek?—

Desmond scratches the back of his neck. “Well, if Loni’s cool with it, I guess I can’t complain. I’ll find you when I’m done, babe. Yeah?”

I nod, and though I’m sure he wants to stay, he slips past Adrian, heading out of the room and down the hall.

Adrian watches him go out of the corner of his eye.

Seconds later, he chuckles under his breath before he nudges the door shut with his shoe.

A quick click , and I’m locked in this room again.

Only now? It’s with the boy who pulled my pigtails on the playground when I was five.

Who teased me when I first developed at eleven.

Who told everyone freshman year that I use a cucumber to play with because no man would ever want me, Offering or not.

The boy I should hate, that I do every shower after he’s finished, and who crooks his finger now, waiting expectantly for me to go to him.

I take slow steps toward him. His gaze roves over me, taking me in from head to toe. I think he likes what he sees… until a muscle tics in his jaw.

“Do you have any idea what it does to me, knowing you’re up here with him?”

Not this again. “He’s my boyfriend, Adrian.”

His soft green eyes darken at the b-word. “It’s a phase.”

I huff. “I know that it isn’t going to last. That Desmond is just fucking around?—”

But Adrian shakes his head. “Not Desmond, Loni. You . Point taken. You wanted to see if you’d make me jealous. It worked. Now I’m here.”

“I didn’t ask you to come up after us,” I remind him.

In fact, I’d done the exact opposite. With Desmond squirreling me away in the corner of the living room, keeping me to himself—or hiding the fact that we were together, I’m not sure—it was easy to avoid Adrian.

He could live it up with the rest of the Heirs, and I could pretend that my heart didn’t ache to have him be the one shielding me from the rest of our classmates instead of Adrian being the fucking bully leading the charge.

He does so now. Closing the gap between us, suddenly I’m under his complete control, and a thrill runs through me as I have every last iota of his attention.

“No, but you must’ve known that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.” Adrian fists my hair, wrapping it tightly but careful not to pull too hard even if he yanks my head back just enough to have my lips parting on a gasp. “Not when you look like that.”

I’m wearing one of my favorite soft yellow blouses and a pair of jeans.

Nothing special, though my jeans highlight the curve of my ass—and they’re Adrian ’s favorites.

Mainly because he’s such a goddamn pro when it comes to flicking the button open, pulling on my zipper, and getting his fingers inside of my panties without any resistance.

Not from the jeans, and not from me.

He does so now, running two fingers on his left hand through my damp curls while keeping hold of my hair. His mouth drops to the side of my throat, sucking on it, tonguing it, all while his middle finger searches for the entrance to my pussy.

He finds it, and I groan even as I manage to grit out, “We can’t keep doing this.”

He chuckles against my neck. “Says fucking who?”

The entire Order of the Owed might have something to say about one of the golden boys of the next generation defiling an Offering ever since the beginning of senior year…

A year. A whole fucking year. Whenever we can sneak away, whenever I can convince myself that—like he’s eight instead of eighteen—he only picks on me because he likes me, I’m helpless to surrender to Adrian Heller.

I can’t let Desmond fuck me, not when I allowed Adrian to do it first. And he didn’t even have to start with any of that ‘just the tip’ shit. He wanted me to let him in, and I… I did.

Two months left, I think, as he fingerfucks me now, getting me ready for what I know is going to happen next. Just two more months to pretend that I own a tiny sliver of the riddle that is Adrian.

Because in two months? He’ll Claim his Offering, and it won’t be me.

The rank-and-file society members have their choice of the available Offerings.

But the inner circle, Jack and his lackeys…

Adrian, Dallas, and theirs… have to have the best. The pick of the litter, basically, and though these are all arranged marriages to keep the Order in power, Adrian’s Offering was told at the beginning of the year that he would be Claiming her at the end of it.

And since Adrian’s Offering is my best friend, Haven, of course I know. Just like how I know that she’d rather cut out her own tongue than ever use it to say ‘I do’ to a man who spent our entire teenage years fucking with me.

Before he started just fucking me.

She wouldn’t care that I stupidly, ridiculously fell for my bully. Haven would be happy, and then maybe she could find an Owed that would suit her better. But Adrian… he’s the kingmaker, remember? Without a position close to the king, what is he? I know him. He’ll never go against the Order.

He’ll marry Haven. If not this year, then sometime in the next few. These trysts will be nothing but a memory… which is why I give myself over to him now as he takes his hand out of my pants long enough to start working my jeans down past my ass.

I can’t help it, though. As if I need to hear the truth more than he does, I tell Adrian, “Haven is your Offering.”

Especially when he’s touching me, when he’s inside of me, I know we can’t escape our fates. That doesn’t stop me from letting him do whatever he wants to me.

I’m still putty in his hands even as I remind him, “My best friend will be your wife. And I’ll belong to?—”

He tilts my head further back, nipping my bottom lip. “You belong to me, Loni.”

I don’t. I can’t .

That’s not how our world works. I’ve accepted that for all of my seventeen years.

One day, I’ll be a powerful man’s wife whether I love him or not.

I’ll watch as Adrian’s cruelty only deepens without our secret trysts to tie us together.

He’ll marry Haven. Fuck Haven. It won’t matter that he was mine first, or that—deep down—I have to admit that I’ve been fooling myself all of senior year.

He’s never been mine .

A leopard can’t change its spots. An asshole is an asshole, and his irrational desire to consider me his possession doesn’t change the fact that he’s bullied me since grade school.

He’s made my life hell since middle school.

In high school, only my future as an Offering keeps me from being a complete outcast… no thanks to Adrian Heller.

The same Adrian Heller who goes back to sucking on my neck, leaving another hickey I’ll have to hurry to hide…

And yet, I don’t tell him to stop. In fact, I arch my neck, giving him better access to my throat.

He rumbles in approval, his fingers sliding up my shirt, under my bra, kneading my boob now that he has my pants down. It’s a possessive gesture, one of undeniable ownership, and I try to forget the latest rumor I heard this afternoon before I arrived at the party.

The rumor that Desmond plans on Claiming me.

He didn’t tell me so. Part of me wonders if earlier was just a test. A way for Desmond to see if I was worthy of being his Offering.

Maybe I passed, but as Adrian switches his focus from my neck to my mouth, kissing me as if he can swallow any of my denials, I have to admit that there’s only one boy that I’d Offer myself to.

But why do that when he already has me?

Don’t think, Loni. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy the feel of his hands on you, the way he’s guiding you to the wall, knowing that he will pin you against it and fuck you fast. Furiously. As if he can’t get enough…

Desmond tasted like beer. Adrian has his own vices. There’s always a hint of smoke about him, the suggestion of fire and ash. Devilish side for this angel, I guess, especially when he’s too smart to let the booze make his decisions for him.

Oh, no. We both own this insanity.

I’m gasping into his mouth now. My hands scrabble for his belt. I can’t change the future, but let me enjoy the present as long as I can.

“Please, Adrian. I need you.”

“God, I fucking love it when you beg,” he smirks, throwing his head back as I cup him through his jeans, his belt dangling open.

It’s okay. In these stolen moments, Avalon Dougherty can have the kingmaker on his knees before long, too.

I’m not his Offering. I can never be.

But right now? I’m his, and if that’s all I can have of this capricious, beautiful, riddle of a boy? Who treats me tenderly, telling me everything I’ve always wanted to hear, then pretends I don’t exist other than to knock me down?

I hate him, but I love him, and I only hope that this time… this time, I might actually fuck him out of my system.