Gypsy Rising

“I’ll be a damn good groom,” he carries on, brushing my hair away from my face.

I roll my eyes and whimper/groan. “I can’t adjust this fast. No one has even told me they love me, and now I’m mated to a werewolf alpha and have the scars to prove it. Meanwhile, the Vampyre alpha is proposing, while washing away the werewolf,” I mutter to myself.

“What was that, love? I didn’t catch all of it,” he says in a bemused sort of way.

“Arion, I have more emotional needs than the four of you will ever care enough to realize. In fact, my emotional needs are constantly being ignored for the sake of the many needs the four of you have. I’m going to take the night off—rest, eat, and recover from the werewolf who apparently married me without even pretending to love me. Get back to me after I’m caught up, and we can have an adult discussion about this.”

I turn and shove open the shower door, stepping out onto the slick tile that almost bests me.

His hand is steadying me immediately, as he steps out behind me. “I’ll hold you while you sleep. I like that. You like that. Winners all around,” he quips as he quickly puts a towel around me.

Again, I see no point in arguing, especially when he lifts me. If he’s carrying me, that means I don’t have to walk.

“Why were the new wolves trembling? Was it me or was it you?” I ask around another yawn.

“It was possibly both. Their alpha took a mate, and the marks on your back have a scent that registers to other wolves. Idun liked that, but she still hated the mark. Now I’m starting to wonder if it’s because she felt like she couldn’t be away from him very long. She enjoyed her control, and she never wanted to cede any of it to us,” Arion diligently explains as he moves me quickly.

He puts me on one end of the bed, but in the next breath, he’s tucking us both under the covers, and my towel is wrapped around my wet hair instead of my body.

My body is touching a whole lot of naked vampire as he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. I’d get annoyed, but the distant, detached look in his eyes makes me realize he’s here because he needs to be touching me.

I don’t get it.

Sighing, I kiss his chest, feeling sorry for him.

“Is Idun still your wife?” I ask for the sake of curiosity.

“Vampire males don’t have wives. They have brides,” he murmurs, hands tightening on me. “And no. Idun rejected my touch most of the time. She certainly didn’t want me to mark her.”

He actually snorts as though the notion is preposterous.

“Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you so that I’ll be your bride?” I ask very seriously.

“I’ll wait until you tell me you love me before I make you my bride,” he drawls, eyes flicking to mine.

I always forget how heavy the weight of his full attention is until he gives it to me.

Clearing my throat, I look at his chest, dragging one of my fingers around to trace the line of his abs.

“Immortals such as us aren’t quite as young as you. You assume Emit doesn’t love you because he’s never said the words. Whereas, he assumes you know he loves you, because his wolf just marked you so deeply that you’re tied to him for at least the next few centuries.”

Trying not to think about that last part, since they act like living forever is a guaranteed promise to me and I still can’t wrap my head around it, I stare at the picture in the frame at the end of my bed.

It’s one with all five of us. They were extremely distracted by whatever ridiculously fake thing Idun was doing on that day, but when I told them I wanted a picture, they all stepped in to pose.

I’m holding up a peace sign with one hand, while wearing a really stupid grin on my face, because I’m horrible at pictures. Hence the reason I don’t have many.

But they look dark, tempting, and…possessive.

Arion is twirling a lock of hair around his finger with a devilish smile just barely highlighting one corner of his mouth. Emit is towering behind me, his hand wrapped around my waist to rest on my stomach.

Damien is sitting in front of me with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, lazily resting his head against me. I remember how he pulled one of my hands around to the front and began kissing it, teasing me with hints of his power—hence part of the reason for my goofy grin.

His lips are pressed to my palm in the picture, and his eyes are forever teasing me in it.

Vance is at my other side. The surprise in my eyes is because he bent over at the last second to kiss the side of my head, only adding to my goofy grin. He timed it perfectly, because the image snapped with the kiss taking place.

“It was shocking to see him do that. If I’m honest, I almost broke character for the photo,” Arion drawls when he sees my eyes on it. “He strongly opposes public displays of affection. If you want to see how much he loves you, walk up and kiss him in a crowded room. You’re the only woman he’s ever allowed to touch him affectionately in public.”

I clear my throat, because I don’t know what to say to that, and this entire conversation is heating my cheeks.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that Idun has lifted Damien’s curse, whether he knows it or not. I once expected him to start finding new warm bodies to entertain himself and feel important again. Instead, he’d rather starve himself than feed off anyone but you. He loves you so much that a monster of sexual deviance finds his heartbeat again, and he doesn’t so much as glance at any other woman.”