Page 29 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

When she doesn’t make a move toward me, I go to take her hand and, oh, she doesn’t like that.

“Loni?”

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses, and my heart sinks. She hasn’t said that to me in weeks, and right when I thought that she was beginning to trust me again, I fucked it all up again.

Goddamn it!

Loni takes a purposeful step around me as I curse myself to hell and back. “This is what I get for giving in so easily.” Her pretty hazel eyes flash on that last word. “Now you think you own me. No one owns me.”

“I don’t want to own you, Loni.”

She snorts, already starting to cross the floor of the Court. “Yeah, right.”

If I can’t convince her… “I mean it.”

“Whatever.”

No. She’s not going to dismiss me—dismiss us — again that easily. “Listen to me. You’re my wife, and?—”

Loni pauses, whirling around, pointing a finger at me.

“It’s a piece of paper. It’s a promise in front of poor Father Francis that you stole from me while I was in shock.

Because, I don’t know if you remember… I don’t know if you even know what it’s like to have blood splattered all over you, your high school boyfriend dead on the flower, your fucking bully the one who put him there? ”

I narrow my gaze on her. “He wasn’t your boyfriend. Not really. We both know that.”

A hollow laugh. “Of course that’s what you get out of all of that. Jesus Christ, Adrian. How broken are you?”

Without Loni Heller? Shattered.

“I’d blame the Order, but you were even worse when we were kids.

Or, hell, maybe that still means it’s the Order’s fault.

Grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth, an entire damn town laid at your feet…

no wonder you’re all called the Owed. You think you deserve it, don’t you? That you deserve me. You don’t.”

Oh, princess… don’t you think I already know that?

I don’t deserve this woman, but that’s not going to stop me from keeping her.

I lash out my hand, reaching for her wrist, hoping to tether her to me.

Loni jerks her hand back before I can, tottering on her high heels. “I told you not to touch me.”

I need to, and not only because it’s nearly impossible to resist the urge to grab her, steady her, keep her from falling to the floor…

Through gritted teeth, I remind her. “You are my wife .”

“Trust me, I know. But you know what else I know? The Order’s rules when it comes to girls like me.

You can’t make me love you. You can’t make me sleep with you.

I did because I thought… fuck. ” She fists her hands, visibly hot and angry, but when her eyes are glossy with a sheen of unshed tears, I go cold.

“It doesn’t matter. Because you’re right.

I’m your wife. The rules say that I have to spend that one night with you.

And I’d say that there’s no way in hell I’m letting you touch me again, but we both know I’m full of shit. ”

“I won’t.” My answer is guttural. “Look. We start over.” We have to start over.

“I make tonight up to you, and you can put a hold on our Mondays for the next two weeks.” That gives me time.

The Claiming ceremony is in four weeks. That gives me two additional weeks to seduce her into choosing me in front of the whole damn Order.

If sex with Loni is the only way to get her to choose me, I’ll use it.

And, in the meantime, I’ll work harder. She’s upset that I stayed late for the Order’s meeting?

Next time, I’ll tell Jack to stuff it. And, sure, I made a calculated error by dismissing her birthday because I wanted to surprise her with the bracelet—another mistake—dinner—that would be worthless now—and the gift that I can’t pick up until tomorrow… but there has to be a way to fix this?—

“You’re lying.”

Shit.

My jaw tightens. I feel like I’m going to hurl. “I don’t lie to you, Loni.”

“Yeah. I believed that once, too. But maybe that was another lie.” She shakes her head, lifting her hands to knock her hair out of her face.

“Your head is spinning, baby.” Baby. I live to hear her call me that, but the way she spits it out right now is so derisive, I stutter-step back as though the two syllables are two fucking bullets to the chest. “Always plotting. Always planning. Look at you! I know you’re already trying to figure out a way to manipulate me into being your good little wife forever. ”

Since I can’t tell her that she’s one hundred percent correct, I try to end this conversation before it gets worse.

I surge toward my wife. “Don’t do this?—”

Loni steps away. “I’m going home. Yes, Adrian,” she adds, guessing from the look on my face my biggest worry, “ your home.”

No. Our home.

“I’ll drive you.”

She juts out her chin, pure defiance. “No. I found my way to the Court. I’ll find my way back.”

Another jealous wave crashes into me. “Not with Max, you won’t.”

“Are you serious? Oh my God. No. Why do… I talked to him for like, five minutes, and half of them were him telling me that my childhood best friend is a wreck. Which, I’ll point out again, you never did.”

“It wasn’t my story to tell?—”

“Whatever.” I grit my teeth. Not whatever again. “I don’t need a ride from an old friend.” She pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll order one. For me. Don’t try to stop me.”

It hurts me to do this, but I nod. “I won’t.”

“And another thing? I’m pissed, Adrian. I’ll get over it.

” Shit, there’s another hollow laugh. “I always do. You know that better than anyone… but I need time. So I’m telling you…

don’t try to use sex against me. The next time we fuck?

It’ll be because I initiate it, you understand?

You don’t touch me. I touch you . Got it? ”

On one hand, I hate seeing Loni so upset. On the other, it’s so fucking hot to see her take charge like this. Seeing her meek and submissive is fun, but when she tells me she hates me while surrendering to me… I thought that was my favorite facet of Loni’s fascinating personality.

I’ve changed my mind. Seeing her take complete control?

Fuck, I shouldn’t be getting hard right now, especially since I’ll have no choice but to follow her lead on this if I ever want her to Claim me.

Jack… he’s not bluffing. If he senses any weakness between us, he’ll snatch Loni way from me, and short of shooting him dead in the chest, I won’t be able to stop the King.

Long live the fucking King.

I swallow, trying to keep my composure. “Got it, princess.”

A shadow of barely concealed fury dances crosses her face at the nickname. “I’m leaving. Don’t. Follow. Me.”

Schooling my own features into a look of contrition—don’t smirk, Adrian, and don’t let her figure out that you’re sporting one hell of an erection right now—I promise, “I won’t.”

I need her to trust me. Trust is the basis of the foundation in any strong relationship. It’s not something I can snap my fingers and command of her, either. I need to show her I’m worthy of her believing in me.

So when she leaves, I keep my shoes planting to the bar’s floor until she’s gone. Then, because every nerve in my body is twanging to go after her, I stalk off. Not toward the exit, though. I take a detour, heading right into the private bathroom designated for the higher-ranked Owed.

It’s an honor system in the Court. Don’t go where you don’t belong, don’t pick one of the Used who belongs to your brother, and don’t interfere if a higher-ranked Owed tells you to get lost. I reluctantly admit that Max backed off the second he saw I was there.

There’s no rule about an Owed talking to an Offering—or a wife—even if I wished there was so I could challenge his standing in the Order.

But that’s just my vindictive side showing. And as I shut the door behind me, stalking toward the mirror, I see it making my features taut, my eyes dark and wild.

Fuck.

I don’t know what comes over me. Just like I’m in my gym, getting my aggression out on the punching bag, I rear back my hand and swing.

The mirror splinters, cracking, breaking .

Blood smears on the reflective glass. A hundred crazed Adrians stare back at me.

Every single fucking one of them belongs to a woman who would slit my throat with a single shard if I gave her the chance.

Gripping the sink basin, breathing heavily, I tell myself that I can’t even blame her. What the fuck have I done to make it so that she’d ever want to Claim me back? Every single time I think that I’m making headway at reminding Loni why she might’ve loved me once, I fuck it up.

Every goddamn time.

But this?

I can’t fix the way I treated the whole Haven situation. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Connor deserves that much from me. Besides, now that Loni is back in Harmony Heights, there’s time. Haven’s made such progress over the last year. Give it another one and maybe my wife and Connor’s can reconcile.

Too bad it’s not just Haven Smith coming between us again, just like she did back when Loni and me were kids. I made a colossal mistake. Because I hate my birthday—each one passing a reminder that I’d spent another year without Loni—I treated Loni like it wasn’t a big deal for her, either.

I had plans. I always have plans.

This one? It didn’t work out.

Cradling my bleeding fist, I glare at the broken mirror again.

Broken… that’s what she called me. I wish I could say she was wrong, but I am broken. It’s too much to expect any woman—especially that woman—to fix me. Too bad she’s the only one who can.

I need Loni.

I’m not giving her up, no matter what it takes.

Thank fucking God the animal shelter is open tomorrow.