Page 9

Rocco reached down to his saddlebag, hiding a smile. “I mean, we can if you want, but I thought a picnic would look more date-like. ”

Emilio blinked in confusion. “You followed me out to a dilapidated road under a bridge … with a picnic?”

“Of course. You’ve been wearing yourself out running all over for your Alpha. Someone needs to feed you.”

Rocco watched Emilio from the corner of his eye as he swung the picnic backpack over his shoulder and grabbed a blanket. Yep, his puppy’s wolf definitely liked the idea of being fed despite his human side’s annoyance. Emilio was swallowing hard, and his pupils had dilated.

“I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work. My wolf is just as untrusting of you as I am,” Emilio growled.

Lies.

Rocco smirked, reaching up to cup Emilio’s nape gently and directing him toward the soft grass nearby.

He took the opportunity to run his thumb down his throat and scent-mark him while he was there.

Being surrounded by family who worked on the Supernatural Council had left him with a better-than-average understanding of how to seduce a wolf, and he was going to use every advantage he had to come on hard and strong enough to drive him away.

For a second, he almost thought Emilio was going to tolerate it, then he seemed to come to his senses and tensed up as he started to pull away.

Despite the fact Rocco had intended that very reaction, it still riled him up, sparking his instinct to chase.

“We’re convincing the city we’re in love, remember?” Rocco murmured, angling his head slightly toward the joggers heading their way and the couple drinking coffee on a bench nearby.

Emilio huffed a frustrated breath and grabbed the blanket off him to spread it on the ground. “Fine.”

Sprawling back on the woven wool, Rocco pulled out a bottle of Chianti, focaccia, a Caprese salad of mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil, and a container of tiramisu .

“Come here,” he ordered, pointing to the space between his spread legs.

“Fuck off,” Emilio hissed, before glancing at the Cruor Coven courier in the distance who they’d both clocked the second he’d emerged from the area near the northern boundary road.

Rocco just raised an eyebrow and waited. Swearing softly under his breath, Emilio settled next to him instead of where he’d indicated.

“Pass me a piece of bread?” Rocco asked.

Emilio reached over to tear off a piece, offering it to him.

Holding eye contact, Rocco leaned forward and took a bite, pressing a kiss to Emilio’s fingers as he pulled back.

His puppy’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and Rocco used the opportunity to collect a bite of salad on the fork and feed it to him.

“Wine?” he offered.

“There’s only one glass.”

“I wanted to taste you, and I wasn’t sure you’d let me. This way I still get a sample,” Rocco explained, making his puppy’s nostrils flare again.

“There’s something very wrong with you.”

“So I’ve been told. Repeatedly,” Rocco replied, pouring the wine.

Emilio’s brow furrowed. “By who? They can fuck off.”

The delighted laughter that burst from Rocco caught them both by surprise. “You going to beat them up for me, puppy? Tie them in your pretty ropes and make art of their suffering?”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“ See me.”

Rocco smirked again. “Stalker, remember? That’s kind of the point. ”

“And what you saw doesn’t make you want to get out of this … arrangement?”

“I could watch you in your element like that for days, gorgeous. Weeks or months, even. You are beauty personified when you work. It took everything I had not to come take you on the floor where his blood was dripping.”

Dark satisfaction filled him as he noticed the telltale bulge growing in Emilio’s pants and the way he shifted his weight where he sat.

“That is not happening,” Emilio said, taking a sip of the wine. The moan he let out at the taste was almost pornographic. “Fuck, that’s good. Why’d you have to go and have good taste as well?”

“I thought you might be missing the flavours of home,” Rocco said, wondering if Emilio would correct him and claim the pack lands of New Trinity as his home as opposed to the country where he’d been getting up to who knew what for the last decade.

Emilio blinked at him, opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and then silently passed him the wine.

Swirling the red liquid in the glass, Rocco closed his eyes and inhaled the complex aromas of the expensive bottle before flicking his tongue out to trace the cool rim where Emilio had drunk from.

His puppy groaned again, and he opened his eyes to find Emilio watching him, entranced.

Tipping the glass up, he took a sip, barely noticing the taste as he watched Emilio’s focus switch to his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“A little distracted there?” Rocco teased.

Emilio glanced away. “We need to know things about each other so we can sell this marriage at the engagement party. What’s your road name?”

“I don’t have one. I didn’t patch into the MC the usual way, and you might’ve noticed I’m not their favourite person. Everyone’s always just called me by my name. ”

It was a half-truth. The name he went by wasn’t his birth name, but it wasn’t one given by the MC either.

Emilio frowned. “Why are you even in this club? They sound like assholes.”

Rocco snorted. “They’re alright. They gave me a place to belong when they didn’t have to.”

“Because you’re one of the most powerful air witches in the country and they’d be fucking fools to turn you away.”

Rocco shrugged. “What about you? I thought pack was everything to wolves, but you moved away to Italy. Why’d you come back?”

Emilio’s snarl and the glint of talons catching in the blanket as he partially shifted caught Rocco by surprise. He didn’t lean away, though. He just reached for his magic, basking in the wild energy coming from the wolf but ready to put a barrier between them if necessary.

“Pack is everything. I came back because Marco asked me to. Simple as that. Same reason I’m marrying you.”

The vampire courier had drawn nearer as they talked and was now paused nearby, checking his phone.

It was clear what he was really doing, though.

Rocco wondered if it was Blaze or Marco who’d leaked their location to the coven.

It was a sensible move to make sure word of this date got back to Kyan before the engagement announcement, but that didn’t make the interruption any less frustrating.

Emilio had angled his body toward the threat of the vampire while he kept his eyes on the food.

His puppy’s attention should be on him , not the sorry excuse for a spy.

Putting the wine aside, Rocco reached up and tangled his fingers in Emilio’s short hair, tugging the shifter on top of him as he fell back on the blanket before rolling them so he was on top.

Using a touch of his magic, he stopped most of the air Emilio was panting into his lungs from reaching them, leaving just enough to make him light-headed without losing consciousness.

A silent snarl played across Emilio’s lips, but he shifted to let Rocco settle between his legs regardless, knowing they needed to play it up for their audience.

Rocco grinned and rocked forward, satisfaction filling him as he felt the hard length of Emilio’s erection throbbing against his hip.

It was hard to hide that many inches of alpha wolf-shifter cock.

Leaning down, he paused with his lips hovering just above the shifter’s, taunting him.

“Asshole,” Emilio gasped, too quietly for the vampire nearby to hear, before lunging up to nip at Rocco’s lip hard enough to draw a drop of blood.

“You’re supposed to bite your own lip if you want me to stop, not mine,” Rocco said, his hips rocking forward again even though Emilio looked murderous.

Reluctantly, he released the magic keeping the wolf breathless.

Blaze would kill him if he blew the game on the first date with a vampire watching on.

It would be a delicate balance trying to push Emilio over the edge to cancel the contract without ending up dead or in even more trouble with his Prez.

Letting his head drop further, he nosed into Emilio’s neck, kissing a path up his carotid as he adjusted himself in his jeans so this impromptu grinding session would be more comfortable.

“Enough. He’s downwind, so I’m sure the scent of your pre-cum has already convinced him we’re a thing. Put one of your glamours around us so he assumes we’re fucking and get the hell off me,” Emilio whispered, his whole body trembling with restraint.

The question was, was he holding back from tearing Rocco’s clothes off or tearing his throat out? Maybe both?

Reaching for his magic once more, Rocco wove illusion around them, hiding them from view. Somehow, Emilio sensed what he’d done, because he was shoving him off when he’d barely finished.

“You could have safe-worded and I would’ve backed off,” Rocco reminded him.

“Shut up.”

Rocco tilted his head to the side, watching as Emilio ignored him to grab the dessert and shovel a spoonful into his mouth. Nearby, the vampire who’d been watching them stared around the park in confusion before jogging off back north, his phone pressed to his ear.

“He seemed convinced. We’ll be the talk of the supernatural community by sunset. I still think Marco and Blaze are playing with fire. I’m good, but convincing Kyan this is another unavoidable love match and not a play for power is a whole other level,” Rocco said.

Emilio shook his head. “He’s not in a position to start a war. Yet. Not while Darius is still splitting the vampire power base. He’ll complain, but he’ll bide his time.”

“So, when am I moving in?”

“When we’re married and not a minute earlier.”

Rocco snorted. “Are you going to wear white and claim to be a virgin, too? People are going to expect us to be sleeping together. What difference does a week or two make? You got something to hide?”

Emilio rolled his eyes, which shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. Brat. They both knew he had nothing but secrets.

“Invite me back to your place tonight,” Rocco said.

“No.”

“Why? Worried you can’t keep your hands to yourself?”

Emilio growled again in frustration and started shoving the food back into the backpack.

“Fine. I’ll compromise. Sleepovers from the night of the engagement party,” Rocco offered .

“Whatever.”

“At least give me your number in the meantime,” Rocco said, grabbing Emilio’s shoulder before he could storm off.

The move was rewarded with his fiancé’s snarl in his face, teeth lengthened into fangs and eyes once more glowing gold.

“Back off!”

“My shield only covers the space where the blanket is. You need to calm down before you leave. And I really do need your number.”

“What kind of stalker are you that you don’t already have it?”

Rocco smirked and moved his hand up to stroke Emilio’s neck again, resisting the urge to widen his smile as the shifter leaned into the touch without even realising it. “But I want you to give it to me. Your private number. Your hacker cousin is too good at keeping them locked down.”

Swiping his hand away, Emilio leaned forward and reached into Rocco’s pocket, fishing out his phone.

“If you wanted in my pants, you could’ve just asked, puppy.”

“Shut up,” Emilio snapped, holding the phone up to Rocco’s face to unlock it before programming his number in.

The shifter was stalking off back to his bike before Rocco had even managed to glance at the screen. Rocco smiled as he saw what Emilio had programmed his number as— NOT your puppy .