Page 5 of Broken Arranged Mate (Badlands Wolves #4)

Why the fuck did I just say that?

Dorian stands from his chair, it seems, on instinct, his eyes blazing when he looks at me. If what I said earlier stands true, you can trust that any Grayhide jeopardizing our relationship with this pack will face swift retribution— that means I’m about to take myself out.

I’d said it without thinking, the words falling from my mouth, hand raising to point right at Ash. I could tell myself that I meant it as a joke, but it didn’t land. I could tell myself that I was trying to play along with the ruse and accidentally took it a bit too far.

But that would be a lie.

If I’m truthful, something inside of me acted, jumped at the opportunity, taking very brief control of me to say something utterly tactless in this meeting.

And that is why I try to stay away from those feelings—from that woman —as much as possible.

Because I’m smart enough to know that those feelings could hijack my brain with hormones, with emotion, and lead me to make stupid, irrational decisions.

Like laying a claim to an alpha leader’s sister while in enemy territory.

Kira is immediately across the room, laying a hand on her mate’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear, and I’m grateful for it.

“I apologize—” I start, but I’m cut off by something that makes my mouth shut. The sound of Ash’s voice rang through the space, definitive and calm.

“Fine.”

Now, the entire room is turning to focus on Ash, who is also standing, but looking reserved, almost nonchalant about the whole thing, her arms crossed. They’re looking at her, but she’s staring right at me, something almost like a challenge there in her expression, the slightest raise of her brow.

It sends a swell of adrenaline through me, like a line of gasoline that’s caught fire, blazing to life, heading closer and closer to the live wire.

“ Fine ?” Dorian asks, glancing between me and his sister, his eyes looking slightly wild.

This morning, he carried with him the exhaustion of constant infant care, being the father of five.

That exhaustion is completely gone now, replaced with a rising and falling chest, his hands in loose fists, cheeks flushed, voice deep and threatening.

I see the other alphas in the room start to bow their heads at the sound of it. “I fail to see how that’s fine.”

“I’m saying I’ll do it.” Ash doesn’t back down from the scrutiny of the room, and I think, not for the first time, that her tenacity is impressive. In a room where even the other alphas are dipping their chins in response to her brother, she stands tall and unbothered.

But that’s just part of who she is—brave. During the incident in the ballroom, she was there. First, going to Dorian.

Then coming to me.

“Oren,” Ash had said, her hands on either side of my face, blurry through the pain in my body, her face barely coming into focus, only her voice crystal clear in my head. “You have to get up.”

She was there, somehow, defying logic. Emaline was there as well, screaming Aidan’s name—everything was a mess, but Ash was there, willing me to get up.

The initial hit of Mhairi’s stuff had severed my connection with the Amanzite, but it wasn’t until I felt Ash’s touch that I realized I could get through it.

Then, realizing Mhairi posed a threat to Ash, I’d acted on instinct again, rising up, pushing through the pain, getting my hands around Mhairi’s throat and wasting no time on theatrics.

It wasn’t until I’d killed her that I realized I’d taken the role of alpha leader from Aidan, after telling him he could have it.

Now, Kira pulls me from my thoughts and says to Ash, “ You’re saying you’ll do it ?”

“Ash, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dorian growls, glancing over at me like this has all been some sort of setup. Like I’ve poisoned or brainwashed his sister.

“Fuck you, Dorian, I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Ash snaps, and several people in the room suck in audible breaths. Nobody talks to an alpha leader like that—and certainly not an omega.

Except, maybe, his little sister. Maybe I should say something, but I feel trapped, suspended between the two Fields in this room.

“A marriage might be the perfect answer,” Ash goes on, her eyes flickering to me like the husband , itself, doesn’t matter that much. “Bring the packs together through that ancient strategy. You know as well as I do that it’s worked over and over in the past.”

“We are not in the past,” Dorian growls, shaking his head. “There are a lot of things we’re going to leave behind.”

“If he and I come together,” Ash says, throwing her hand out and pointing at me, like I’m just one of the many options on the shelf, her eyes still on her brother, “wolves will have to adjust. You know that. It’s in our biology. They’ll fight less.”

She’s right. Mating between packs often adjusts our scenting, turning even the most adversarial of relationships into something softer, less violent.

Not that she and I would be mating —only coming together for the good of the packs. A strategic move. Like she said.

The other half of my brain interjects—how am I even considering this? I’ve spent years trying to avoid her, staying clear of anything that might cloud my judgment. And now I’m listening quietly to a discussion of marriage?

“We are not—”

“Our people are dying ,” Ash insists, voice going tight. “Maybe I can’t be a real leader. Maybe the best thing I’ll ever get is a quiet spot at the table. But this is something I can do to help.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Dorian turns to me. “You meant it as a joke, right?”

Everyone is looking at me, but it’s Ash’s gaze that I feel, physically, on the side of my face. Fierce and searching, determining.

“My first priority is keeping the peace between our packs,” I finally say, searching for the most diplomatic phrasing, eyes darting to Ash. “And I am willing to do whatever you think is best in that vein.”

Before I’ve even finished, Dorian is letting out a quick, incredulous breath, bracing his hands on the back of his chair. “This is madness.” A long silence passes, then he lifts his head, looking at his sister. “You want to do this, Ash?”

“Yes.” The answer is simple, immediate, and I can’t ignore the slight tightening in my chest, even as I try to keep every emotion under wraps.

Dorian swallows, turns, and looks to me. “And you want to do this?”

I nod, jaw ticking from the effort of keeping a straight face. “I would do anything to help the Grayhides. And my pack would appreciate the sacrifice from your sister.”

Another long silence follows, and Dorian shakes his head, almost at himself, like he can’t believe he’s agreeing to this. “Well. I guess if both of you want to, and it would help the packs…Then I won’t stand in the way.”

Now I’m standing, heart starting to hammer. I’m sure Dorian can sense it now, but I reason that he may think it’s excitement over potentially solving this issue between our packs.

“Excellent,” I say, gaze skipping to Ash.

Her cheeks are flushed, her dark hair streaked with gray, those eyes trained right on me.

When I think about what might happen after the wedding, I push the thought away, turning on my heel and ripping my eyes from her, instead focusing on the matter at hand.

“I’ll have the preparations made. If we start straight away, we may be able to finish this the day after tomorrow—”

“Finish this?” Ash asks, and when I look at her, I realize I’ve made a mistake. She looks crestfallen. I must have said something wrong, and I have no idea what it was.

Luckily, Dorian seems to know immediately what’s wrong.

Turning to me, crossing his arms, he says, “If my sister is to get married for political gain, she’s getting all the parties.

Every ounce of celebration she deserves.

She’s doing this pack a service, and you’ll do everything you can to make sure she feels cherished, do you understand? ”

Kira is already straightening up, eyes widening. “Engagement party, rehearsals, flowers, food—there is going to be so much to do.”

“Oren.” Dorian’s voice is hard, almost father-like. “Do you understand?”

“Of course.” I clear my throat, glance again at Ash, who’s also holding onto the back of her chair, looking somewhat faint, like she can’t believe she just offered herself up like that.

I can’t believe it, either.

“Great.” Dorian claps his hands together and addresses the rest of the room. “Then I suppose we’d better shift our focus to wedding planning.”