Page 62 of Bride of Vengeance

"I hate you."

"Those aren't the words." He stops completely, and I actually whimper. "Say it."

My pride battles with my need, and it loses.

"I'm yours," I gasp.

"Again."

"I'm yours."

"Whose baby are you carrying?"

"Yours."

"Who do you belong to?"

"You. Fuck, Mikhail, you!"

He rewards me by finally, finally letting me shatter. I come apart in his arms, watching myself fall to pieces in the mirror while he holds me up, holds me together.

"Mine," he says against my neck, sounding wrecked. "My woman. My baby. My everything."

This time, I don't argue.

Because maybe, just maybe, he's right.

Chapter thirteen

His to Claim

Mariana

I wake up sore in places I forgot could be sore.

The bite mark on my neck throbs with every heartbeat, a constant reminder of last night's claiming. I touch it gingerly, feeling the raised edges where his teeth broke skin. It's going to be purple for days. Maybe weeks.

Bastard did it on purpose.

Mikhail's side of the bed is empty but still warm. Through the open bathroom door, I can hear the shower running and him humming something in Russian. He sounds... happy. Content. Like he didn't just mark me up like some kind of territorial animal.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Unknown number.

Mariana - Need to discuss immunity deal. Harrison moving against more witnesses. - Alexei

Reality crashes back. We're still fugitives. Harrison's still free out there. And now I'm pregnant with a baby that's going to complicate everything.

The shower turns off. Mikhail emerges with a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets still clinging to his chest. He looks like a magazine ad for expensive cologne or danger or really bad decisions.

"Morning, little wolf." His eyes go straight to my neck, and satisfaction flashes across his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Pissed. Confused." I sit up, pulling the sheet around me even though modesty between us is pointless now.

"That's all you have to say? Yes?" He crosses to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Would you prefer I apologize?"

"Yes!"

"No." He reaches out, fingers ghosting over the bite mark. "I'm not sorry. I want everyone to see. Want them to know you're taken."