Page 235 of Conquered

“My...wedding planner?” I question, my hands dropping from my stomach and finding Ash’s hand waiting, our fingers intertwining.

“Of course.” Julian is back to beaming again. “With your wonderful news, we’ll need to speed things up so that you’re married to Asher before you start to show fully.” He chuckles again like the doting father that he is not. “And with your uncle not giving his permission for your nuptials to go ahead, I think May twenty-first would be a good date. Don’t you?”

“But that’s…” I trail off.

“Your birthday, yes. What a lovely way to spend the day,” he says, his gaze open and oh so sincere. “It doesn’t give us a great deal of time for planning, just over eight weeks, and to send invites, etcetera, but I’m sure with Erica’s help, we’ll manage.”

I stare at him, unmoving and in shock. Ash’s grip tightens, his fingers rubbing over my knuckles in a soothing gesture.

I’m getting married on my nineteenth birthday.Shit.

“Well, I shall leave you to it. Whatever she wants, Erica. No expense spared,” he says, pausing beside me to drop a kiss on my cheek. His lips linger for a fraction of a second too long, his fingertips brushing my stomach. “Just think, you could have made me a father again instead of a grandpa,” he whispers in my ear, so quietly that I know the guys don’t hear.

Bile rises in my throat as he steps away, tears springing into my eyes as I stare straight ahead. I don’t move as he leaves, my grip tight on Ash’s hand. The door shuts with a loud bang, breaking me from the trance that Julian left me in.

“Excuse me,” I rush out, bolting to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me as I throw myself down on my knees, just managing to get my head over the toilet bowl in time, as vomit spills from my lips.

Gentle hands hold my hair back as I retch and cough, a cool cloth placed on my forehead and a glass of water pressed into my hand when I sit back on my heels, my eyes closed.

“What did he say to you, Princess?” Ash asks, stroking my hair back from my sweaty face.

I look into his face, his grey eyes swirling with concern. It takes me a couple of tries before the words will come.

“That he could have been the f-father of my baby, instead of its grandpa,” I tell him in a trembling voice, tears spilling from my eyes.

A curse sounds from my left, and I turn my head in time to see Loki punch the mirror, shattering it, shards of glass flying across the room.

“That fucking perverted cunt!” Loki roars, his chest heaving. I leap up, feeling a wave of dizziness that I ignore as I rush towards him, my shoes crunching over the glass.

“Hey, it’s okay, my love,” I tell him softly, taking his now bleeding hand in mine and tutting.

“None of this is fucking okay, Pretty Girl,” he whispers back, placing his forehead against my own. “None of it.”

“It will be soon, brother,” Ash says, his tone serious as he walks towards us, placing a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “They will hurt for what they have done to us, and we’ll be the ones watching them bleed. Before the baby is born.”

The boys exchange an intense look, Loki nodding as they seal the vow between them.

My eyes drift down to Loki’s bleeding hand, watching the blood drip onto the shards of glass at our feet, and a shiver runs through me. There will be more bloodshed before this is over.

I just wonder how much of it will be ours.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LILLY

The meeting with Erica wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was actually kind of fun, once I got into the swing of it. After all, what girl doesn’t dream of planning her wedding to one of the loves of her life?

Ash basically lets me decide everything, not batting an eyelid when I say that I’d like it outside, with the mountains as our backdrop and a party in the woods afterwards. And he just smirked when Erica asked about what colour theme we’d like, telling her that it would be rainbow themed before I’d even opened my mouth.

Could I love him any more?

We managed to get most of the details down, from the flowers, to the food and music, and she left, telling me that she’d made an appointment with the wedding dress shop in town for me this Saturday.

Two days' time.

My head spins with how fast things are moving, how much my life is changing in such a short space of time.

Friday morning rolls around, and as we leave the dorm, there’s something in the air. I can’t pinpoint it exactly. It’s a feeling of foreboding that sticks to me like tar, leaving my heart rate up and my palms sweaty as we walk down the central stairs and into the main hall.