Page 13 of Broken Arranged Mate (Badlands Wolves #4)

This is the first time I’ve seen my mother out of bed since the day my father died.

“It’s not a big deal,” I repeat, for the fifth time, as I pull the car around toward the shop.

It’s my fault for telling Raegan I’d planned to pick out a tuxedo today.

In fact, I’d just wanted them to send me a standard tuxedo, and when the man on the phone tersely responded that there was no such thing , I finally relented and agreed to come into the shop.

“It is so a big deal,” Raegan protests, frowning at me as she bounces ahead, pulling open the door and letting me inside. “You’re marrying a wonderful woman, and she deserves to have a wonderful wedding. Which means you should look better than some cardboard cutout of a groom, you ass.”

Since Raegan informed me that she would be going to Ambersky to dress shop with Ash, I’ve been turning the idea of it over and over in my head. It’s like two different worlds colliding. Last night, at dinner, I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking her too many questions.

“You’ll want to look nice, dear,” our mom says, and Raegan glances first at her, then at me, as if to say, See, this is making Mom feel better!

In truth, if I’d known a wedding would get her out of bed, I would have done it a long time ago.

We step into the shop together, and Raegan immediately starts to flirt with the attendant. I wonder if she was flirting like that when they were picking out Ash’s dress.

I wonder what her dress is going to look like. Raegan was very cagey about it, but looked like she was practically bursting with excitement.

The first is a plain black three-piece suit.

It’s simple, expensive enough that people will respect me, but not so expensive that I feel I’m shoving my wealth in the face of our people.

The only problem is that it doesn’t quite fit; my shoulders are a bit too large for even the broadest jacket they have.

I make do, and when I walk out to show it to my mother and Raegan, my sister is the first to speak.

“No.” She stands, shaking her head. “Gods, Oren, did you ask them for the most boring suit in the place?”

“No.” I turn in the mirror, grimacing at how tightly the jacket pulls over my shoulders. It’s not a good look. “Simple is fine.”

“Trust me,” Raegan says, shaking her head again. “Simple will not be fine.”

My eyes dart to hers, and I try to use some of that alpha leader intuition Dorian is always talking about to read her mind, figure out what Ash’s dress is going to be like. What is going to be so special about it that a black suit just won’t do?

“Try something more colorful,” she says to the consultant, who nods and looks a bit eager, gesturing for me to follow him back.

“Just great,” I mutter, then I’m subjected to what feels like a never-ending cycle of trying on suits, stepping out, and waiting for Raegan to say no.

The blue is too blue, the maroon makes her gag, and when I step out in what the consultant assures me is the most luxurious suit in the entire building, she throws her forearm over her eyes, falling back in her seat dramatically.

“What’s wrong with it now?” I snap, and when I look in the mirror, I also wish I were unconscious. “Other than the fact that it’s hideous.” I glance at the attendant. “No offense.”

He shrugs one shoulder, “Everyone likes something different.”

“It’s way too busy!” Raegan says, gesturing at it with a grimace.

“Okay.” It’s difficult for me to keep the growl out of my throat. First, it was too simple. Now it’s too much. I thought this entire thing would take less than an hour, and now we’ve been here long enough that I’m hungry for lunch again.

I don’t have anything nice to say to her, so I take a moment to figure out my next words. Through my teeth, I suggest, “Why don’t you just tell him what you’re looking for, since you’ve hated every suit so far?”

“Because I’m not sure what will work,” Raegan says, tipping her head to the side like she’s thinking. I want to reach over and snatch the hat from her head, tease her like I used to when we were kids. “But I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Great,” I mutter, looking to the ceiling. “So I can waste my day looking through every single fucking suit in the place.”

I don’t realize the attendant has disappeared until he comes back in with my mother, who has an unusually content smile on her face.

“Come on back,” the consultant says, also smiling. “I think we’ve got something for you.”

Dubious, I follow him back. I feel like an asshole doing this, dressing up when the shifters in my pack are still suffering, but I also know it’s important to keep up appearances, to make this wedding an enjoyable affair.

To prove to everyone that Ash and I are a good pair, and ensure the unity of our groups.

This time, when I step into the suit, it still pinches, but when I look in the mirror, I’m too distracted by the color to complain about it.

“That’s it !” Raegan says, jumping out of her chair and pointing at me when I step out. “That is going to be perfect, I just know it! Here, let me—” she pauses, snapping a picture and sending it off.

A thrill of something near panic goes through me. “Wait—is that for Ash? Isn’t she supposed to see me, or something?”

“No,” Raegan does that sister thing where she flicks her eyes up at me while still typing away at her phone. “It’s for Kira. And that’s not for grooms—only brides.”

“Why does Kira need to see my suit?”

“It’s not technically your suit,” the consultant cuts in, eying me up and down. “I’m thinking we craft something in this color, with all the same flair, but—where will the wedding be, again?”

“Uh,” I clear my throat, thinking about the watchtower Ash and I have been working on in near silence. “A rustic environment.”

“Okay,” he brings his hand to his chin and nods, clearly thinking. “Climate?”

“Desert at night,” I say, “so…cold.”

He’s a Grayhide beta, so he should know all about how frigid it gets here at night, the ground without moisture unable to hold any of the heat baked down onto us during the day.

In fact, I might need to talk to Ash about installing some heaters in the space to make sure everyone doesn’t freeze during the reception.

“You’ll need something custom,” the consultant says, nodding. “I’m thinking wool, but with a lighter vest, to keep the elegance but match with the rustic theme. Let me draw something up.”

He grabs a tablet and walks away, and I turn back to my sister.

“ Raegan ,” I ask, distracting her from her phone, which she’s currently laughing at. “Why does Kira need to know what my suit looks like?”

“Mind your own business,” Raegan responds.

“This is my wedding,” I growl. “Pretty sure that makes it my business—”

“I’ve missed this.”

Raegan snaps her mouth shut, and we both turn to look at our mother, who’s sitting on the sofa quietly, a single tissue pressed up under her eyes.

Without asking, we know what she means—she misses my sister and me being able to argue about something trivial. She misses being with her children, together, not with me off in an enemy territory.

While I was gone, she couldn’t even be sure if I was alive. Her only solace was my father’s anger at my disappearance—a sign that, perhaps, he hadn’t managed to murder me, after all.

“Oh, Mom ,” Raegan immediately slides her phone into her pocket and goes to our mother, dropping onto the sofa beside her and wrapping her arms around her neck. “I love you.”

Mom says nothing, but when her eyes meet mine, I see in them a shimmer that wasn’t there before. Like she’s coming back into herself.

Oblivious to the moment that’s happening, the consultant strides back into the room, tapping a large screen and putting up his drawing on the board.

Even I have to admit, it’s a pretty good likeness to me. And if the suit comes out the way he’s drawn it, it’s going to make me look pretty fucking good.

“It’s wonderful ,” my mom breathes.

“I’ll take it,” I say to the consultant, then, “think you can make it happen in just a few weeks?”