Revenge is best served wet
I STARED AT THE ANNOUNCEMENT pinned on the wall. Apparently, Cyrus had scheduled our wedding for September 5th, just two weeks from now, without bothering to tell me. Classic toxic alpha-male power move. I’d been waiting for something like this since our colossal fight last week when he ordered his goons to move my things to his room—a posh and pompous suite fit for a royal couple. After I put a quick end to that battle, I knew Cyrus would go about finding some feeble method of exacting his revenge.
To be fair, his haste to tie the knot was probably part of a bigger effort to have me stay put in his tacky shifter compound instead of roaming off every chance I got. He must have thought that being my husband would give him some additional leverage to… I don’t know, have me redecorate the entire Keep, or participate in the endless uber boring pack council meetings, or maybe take up origami or some other docile bullshit.
I’d grown bolder as the weeks went by. I left the Keep almost daily to meet up with Kirsi or Lily or Faion—sometimes all three of them. It drove Cyrus crazy. It drove Darius crazy, too, when Cyrus informed him during one of his weekly reports. At least twice, the Persian King of Kings had chewed me out for taking unnecessary risks.
I shrugged it all off. I knew what they didn’t. Horror wasn't going to pop up out of nowhere to wipe me out. He needed me very much alive. He had beheaded Cerber just for trying to hurt me and had eagerly offered to kill Darius as well. And making me his captive would ruin his grand design. Horror intended to lure me to him, so I would willingly become his right hand and openly offer up my mist rider powers to aid in his absolute dominion over all realms.
My gut told me as long as I let Horror believe there was a chance I’d join forces with him, he’d let me be, at least for a while. And for someone as old as Horror, a while could very well mean decades.
I turned around, sensing someone watching. Cyrus stood right behind me, staring intensely. His skin glistened with a post-workout sheen.
“Dude,” I said, “why you got to be a creeper? And what’s the meaning of this?” I pointed at the bulletin board. “I told you, I need at least one year of…” I searched for a word for this charade. “Betrothal.”
He grunted. “You need a whole year to wiggle out of our agreement?”
I waved him off and stepped away.
I could smell what he ate. Something raw.
He liked to shift into a huge black panther at dawn and hunt in the pack’s private woods.
“Your non-response concedes the point,” he said, licking his lips.
“Men and their imaginary scores,” I said, losing interest.
“It’s that very agreement that allows your mentor’s recuperation to proceed unhindered.”
I bit my tongue. I had improved at holding back, never letting anyone know what fevered thoughts raced through my head. The truth was I would do anything to keep Winter safe, even getting hitched to a megalomaniac.
“The pride of a blackmailer,” I said.
Cyrus gritted his teeth. “Let’s not argue in front of pack members.”
“Why? Wouldn’t arguing be the best way to pose as a real couple?”
A storm brewed behind his eyes. He motioned me to follow him up three flights of stairs. That wasn’t a good sign. His business office was up there, and he hated being in that office. There was something he had to tell me and whenever he had to tell me something, it usually sucked.
His receptionist, a slightly built man for a wolf shifter, stood at attention as we approached.
“My alpha, the Chicago pack’s been calling all morning—”
Cyrus cut him off with a dry, “Not now.”
We entered his large, open office. It was all mahogany and velvet with arched windows overlooking a duck pond, and a case of expensive Cuban cigars sitting on the heavy desk. Cyrus kicked the door shut.
I jumped straight to offense. “It’s fucking bullshit, Cyrus. It’s not enough that you took me from my life and forced me to stay in your putrid velvet Xanadu, you also want to monitor my every move and keep me on property all time? Is this some sick form of revenge?”
He glared at me. “Revenge is the wet dream of weaklings. Nothing will change between us after the wedding. Our communication will remain limited to these occasional trading of barbs if that’s what you wish. My focus is on the meeting of the five biggest packs in the country at the end of September. There’s pressure to realign the territories. I want to negotiate from a position of maximum strength.”
“So what? You’re going to aim your Lunar witch wife at them like a loaded gun and make them give you what you want or we’ll blow their castles down? That sounds lovely until they enlist their top assassins to take me out.”
His voice was dry, emotionless. “Let them try.”
“What? Let them try? Really? You’re not even going to try to lie? Huh,” I said. “Maybe I should be grateful you’re not hiding the fact that of course, they’re going to try to kill me! They’re fucking shifter alphas, Cyrus.”
“You’re a Lunar witch. You’re going to be hunted regardless of your circumstances. We might as well offset that risk with a reward.”
“Offset this,” I said while showing him a middle finger.
Not my best moment. Maturity is not a fixed state.
“You need to grow up,” he said. “Life’s not an Instagram page. It’s not all moral certainties and scented candles. In the real world, shit gets messy.”
“You’re telling me that shit gets messy?” I was stunned. “The same girl who, literally, you and Darius... you know what? Fuck you!”
We had become more than accustomed to these fights. We simmered quietly for a while to let the rage level off.
“Your safety is a priority,” he said as some sort of olive branch.
“Right,” I said. “I guess that means your security team has been shadowing my every move in and out of the compound. If only you had respected me enough to tell me that.”
“I respected you enough that I believed I didn’t have to, Sophie. And if you somehow didn’t realize you were being followed, that would mean you are clueless enough to need protection.”
“Gee, that didn’t sound like respect,” I said, stating the obvious.
He sighed. “You make me crazy. I actually have a plan and this whole scenario is a pain in my ass as well. I don’t have bedside manners, but I’m doing right by you. Trust that.”
“Trust is the favorite word of the duplicitous.”
He held his eyes closed a long time, biting his lip. “Horror is on the loose and keen on eliminating all competition,” he finally said. “Which, I’m not sure why, but Darius thinks you’re potentially Horror’s nemesis. I promised Darius that you would remain in one piece. I plan on being true to my word.”
The bastard sounded sincere. My mind started churning to come up with more stalling tactics to delay the wedding.
“The wedding’s happening, Sophie. I suggest you let your people know and be convincing while you’re doing it.”
Someone, please, kill me now.
My phone buzzed. Thank God!
It was a text from Kirsi. She never texted. Her brief need to talk message convinced me it was urgent.
I flashed my eyes at Cyrus. “I need to take this. We should both try to be a little more civil to each other.”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
I hurried up the stairs and texted Kirsi back from my room.
“Me too. Need yr stealth skills. Meet outside the gate in 1 hr.”
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