Page 31 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

TWENTY

SOPHIE VALE

LONI

T urns out, an adorable orange kitten wasn’t the only way Adrian decided to make up for totally screwing up my birthday.

I love her to death already. It’s only been about two weeks since Adrian placed the fluffball into my palms, but if anything happened to her, I don’t know what I would do.

And maybe I went a little overboard. When Adrian adopted her from the Harmony Heights shelter, he came home with everything the man at the shelter told him a first-time cat adopter would need: litter, a litter box, a breakaway collar with a little, jingling bell, wet food, dry food, and food bowls.

Since then, I’ve added a cat bed, a cat tower with a scratching post, toys for fun, toys for her enrichment, and a small carrier so that, if we need to leave with her, it’ll be easier than holding her in our arms. The shelter did give the kitten to Adrian in a cardboard box, but she’d shredded a small hole in it during the car ride home which is why he had to hold her in his palms. I guess I should just be lucky the little diva didn’t jump from the car before he was able to snare her again.

She’s so soft and fuzzy, I decide to name her Peaches.

I don’t let her free roam. When she’s bigger, I will, but for now, I keep her in whatever room I’m in as long as the door can close.

That means she spends most of her time in my upstairs office and my private bedroom, and since I spend my time off of work—when I’m not with Adrian—playing with her, some of my loneliness has finally subsided.

It’s the best birthday present he could’ve given me, though his second idea? Yeah… that one’s not so much fun.

For me, at least. For Adrian, I understand why he did it.

It’s the damn gossip mills in Harmony Heights.

By now, everyone knows I’m back. Just like how everyone knows that Adrian married me after getting rid of his so-called rival.

Because I’ve refused to mingle with other women in the Order—either other Offerings or the Used—rumors are spreading that Adrian is keeping me locked up.

His genius idea to get the rumors to stop? He throws me a birthday party the first weekend in August.

August is a busy time for the Order of the Owed. The Claiming ceremony is usually scheduled either mid-month or closer to the end. It’s always in August, though, and so many members spend the second half of summer preparing for it.

I hoped that meant that only a handful of really curious lookie-loos would show up. Unfortunately, after I got Peaches settled down for the evening and joined Adrian on the first floor, I discovered that I was way off on that.

There were at least fifty guests milling around.

Despite throwing the party together at the last minute, Adrian arranged for a full spread of food and drink set up on his massive dining room table.

The more informal living room had a folding table with trays of elaborate snacks on them.

Music blasted from a set of speakers that a local DJ setup in nearly every room.

And no matter where I went? Everyone stared at me.

Adrian told me it would be an informal affair.

I took him at his word, choosing to wear a comfortable pair of leggings, one of my favorite soft yellow sweaters since the heat wave crashes and the AC is back to being at arctic levels, plus a pair of plain white sneakers.

Adrian’s wearing a suit, as usual, but while most of our guests have dressed more casually, there are a handful of bombshell women roaming the house that I’m left feeling frumpy and underdressed whenever I run into them.

It might not have been so bad if Adrian stayed at my side.

For the first hour of the party, he did, and while it got a little irksome, hearing the smug way he kept introducing me to every guest as his wife, when it became obvious that I didn’t recognize most of these people, I was glad to be able to cling to him.

We always ran in different circles when we were kids.

Mainly because his bullying me made me the town outcast so, despite my lineage, I never really meshed with those who had ties to the Order.

I didn’t really mesh with anyone except Haven, actually, and if I’m a little disappointed to hear that she was invited to the party but couldn’t come, I try my best not to let it sting.

So it’s not really a surprise that, ten years later, the higher-ranked members of the Order are all strangers to me.

Adrian, of course, knows them all. I guess that’s why I admit that it was inevitable that, at some point, he’d go off to speak to one in private while I floated around the house— my house—like I didn’t belong.

I went and checked on Peaches. I refreshed my makeup and fluffed my hair. I didn’t change because that would be obvious, but I did go out of my way to avoid the most dolled-up woman so that I didn’t look washed-out in comparison.

Then, when I narrowly avoided getting caught in a conversation with two Offering who wanted to know how I snagged one of the most eligible bachelors in all of Harmony Heights, I decided to do the unthinkable: I went looking for my husband.

And when I find him talking to a tall, striking brunette with big tits, big hair, and legs that go on for days, my heart just about stops.

I recognize her. Funny that, of all the people here, she’s the only one I do. That’s Sophie Vale, a girl I knew back when I was in school. She was a grade ahead of us, so she’s quickly approaching thirty, and my stomach twists when I notice that she doesn’t have a ring on that all-important finger.

What the?—

Jealousy .

A loaded word, and an emotion that I long thought buried deep inside of me.

Why would I be jealous over a man I hated? Who bullied me, who betrayed me, and who thinks that I’ve forgotten—that I’ve forgiven —all because I was forced to stand there as he made Father Francis bond us together as husband and wife?

Adrian can make me his wife. He can’t make me love him. In this battle of wills between us, I’ve made my stance clear.

So why do I want to march over to where Sophie is laying her arm possessively over his shoulder and rip it off before beating the pretty brunette over the head with it?

I don’t. I can’t. It would give too much of me away, and that’s not anything Adrian deserves yet. He hasn’t noticed me yet, too involved in his conversation with Sophie, and before he takes his eyes off of her and sees me standing here, I bolt.

I wish I could say that I disappeared to the furthest reaches of Adrian’s huge house.

That it was easy to shake off the sudden jealousy.

That I found something else at the party to distract and that, when Adrian eventually tracked me down, I laughed and said something like, “I barely knew you were gone.”

That’s not what happened, though. I only went to the other side of the room, dashing out the door before turning around and watching from a position where I hoped Adrian didn’t see me. I got some odd looks from other partygoers, but I ignored them.

Oh, no. My eyes were on Sophie and Adrian only.

The conversation wasn’t a long one. To be fair, he almost immediately shook off her hand, his expression turning slightly bored long before he took leave of Sophie. He still lingered longer than my irrationally jealous mind liked. Irrational… that’s the only way to describe what I do next.

Moments after Adrian drifts off to another room, I march right over to the brunette. Then, hoping like hell my acting has improved since my drama club days, I feign surprise at walking right at her.

I throw up my hands. “Sophie? Sophie Vale? Is that really you?”

Her lips split in an overly ecstatic greeting. “Loni! Oh my goodness, look at you! I mean, I knew you were here. This is your party, after all, but it’s so good to see you.”

I wish I could say the same thing.

No. No . That’s not fair of me. It’s not Sophie’s fault that I saw her cozying up to Adrian and now I want to rip her hair out.

So she clearly knows that I’m here. That it’s my birthday party.

Unless she’s been living under a rock this last month, all of Harmony Heights knows that Adrian is my husband…

so while I’m aggravated that I saw him flirting with her, shouldn’t she have known better, too?

“You too,” I lie. And then, because I can’t help myself… “I thought I saw you with Adrian before.”

“What? Oh, yeah. Me and your hubby go way back.”

A punch to my gut. Damn. I don’t know how I don’t buckle over at that.

I don’t why I care.

Forcing a smile to my face, I ask, “Really? How do you know him?”

She blinks. “From school, Loni. Remember? We all went to Harmony Heights High together. You know that.”

Right. Of course.

Yeah.

I open my mouth, hoping that whatever comes out doesn’t reveal the setting jealousy that still has a hold on me, when Sophie gives a careless toss of her thick hair over her shoulder and I get a front-row seat to the large oval brand on the side of her neck.

The same brand that covers Adrian’s palm.

The mark of the Order—and Sophie wears it proudly on a very visible place on her body.

“Something wrong, Loni?” she teases. “‘Cause you’re gawking, sweetie.”

“You’re one of the Used,” I point out needlessly.

A frisson of relief flutters through me.

Adrian doesn’t touch the Used. He’s made that perfectly clear.

And while we’ve both tiptoed around the subject of any previous lovers we both may or may not have had over the last decade, it’s almost like he wanted me to understand that—to him, at least—the Order’s personal sex workers are off-limits.

So maybe they are just old friends that he stopped to say ‘hello’ to. That makes sense to me now.

But one of the town girls who iced me out because she was hoping to get an in—any in—with the Order…

Yeah. that makes sense, too.

“I am,” she confirms easily before she lets out a throaty laugh. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I was never going to be an Offering, and thank God for that.”

I’ve never heard any of the women seem glad to be one of the Used before. I’m sorry, but raised as an Offering…

I lower my voice. “You don’t have to do that, right? I mean… you could leave the Order, couldn’t you?”

My gaze flickers to the brand standing out on her neck. Maybe not. Even if she tried to leave, the scar on her neck will tell anyone who knows what that symbol means exactly how she was affiliated with the Order of the Owed.

As an Offering, there’s no escape for me. Even when I tried, deep down, I knew I was only buying a little time. Now, did I think they’d use my dad against me to get me to behave. Naively or not, I didn’t think that Jack Collins would stoop that low.

If they would do that to someone they considered ‘valuable’, what would they do to a glorified prostitute?

“I could help you get out,” I murmur, keeping my voice as low as possible while still allowing Sophie to hear me over the pumping music. I’m feeling a little magnanimous now that I know that she isn’t after Adrian. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks, Loni, but no thanks. I’m happy where I am. Honest.”

I never wanted to be one of the Used. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t those who choose it.

Those who enjoy the attention, the gifts, the safety when they find one of the Owed who will give her whatever she wants as long as she’ll fuck him in return.

I shouldn’t judge Sophie because her path doesn’t look like mine.

For all I know, she pities me for being forced into a marriage that, from the outside, I could never want.

Do I want it?

I… it’s getting harder and harder to say no.

So, instead, I just nod. “Got it.”

She gives me a cryptic smile. “After all, there are worse things than being Used.”

Sophie’s right.

Adrian and I have come to an impasse about Haven. I know from Max that something terrible happened to her, but while he was determined to make up my fail of a birthday to me, that was one line he wouldn’t cross. When the time came that I learned Haven story, it would have to be from Haven herself.

Between the two guys, I know that she was hurt—and she was hurt because she was an Offering.

So what’s worse than being one of the Used?

How about being given away, turned into property, into the perfect trophy wife as though my thoughts, my ambitions, my dreams mean nothing compared to a member of the Order’s.

So what does Adrian want?

Me.

At least, that’s what he tells me. But is he only telling me what he wants me to hear. I’m not sure, but?—

An all-too-familiar clearing of a throat has my conversation with Sophie dying a quick death seconds before a voice I hear in my dreams says, “I’m sorry, but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to borrow my wife.”

Turning, I find that Adrian has joined us. When? How much did he hear? We were only really talking about the Used, but did he overhear me earlier when I attempted to grill Sophie about any relationship she might have—or had—with him?

The heat in his gaze tells me that yes , yes he did .

Oh, shit.

Realizing that he has my attention, his lip curls slightly. “My wife,” he echoes, the words meant for me and me alone.

Ignoring Sophie… ignoring the rest of the party… Adrian steps behind me, scalding me with his heat, his voice a dark whisper at my ear. “You like being mine, Loni. You always have.”

Yes .

I close my eyes, letting my head fall back on my neck.

He brushes his mouth over the side of my throat.

I swallow. “Adrian… people can see us.”

“I know, princess. I know.”

I remember what he told me once before. How, back when we used to sneak around, he wanted someone to see us.

That’s not me, though. In the moments when I have Adrian Heller, I want him to be just mine. I don’t want to share him, and in a soft whisper, I tell him that.

And that’s how, before I even realize what’s going on, he has my hand in his as he starts to pull me out of the living room and toward the stairs.