Auctioned Mates Revenge
Chapter 85

Emoni's POV

Warhammer Guard around us.

I woke up just a few hours after I had gone to sleep. From the darkness outside the window, it was sometime around midnight. I got out of bed and walked out of the room. Matt had been kind enough to move my father and Grayson to another room and establish I was grateful for the security but troubled by the company.

Demi growled. I could feel her pacing and upset in the back of my mind.

Males are so fickle. He should be proud that we are his mate. We are strong, capable... How dare he not take the hint given!

I almost laughed at her indignation. To be fair, the hint I had given him could have been taken any number of ways and the night had been too wild for any of us to have our full faculties.

Telling a man we should talk more when we had a chance, in private, preferably away from my father was probably a bit too subtle.

I didn't know what Grayson had been through while serving Teagan and her daughter. I didn't even know if it had been willing or something nefarious.

What I knew was that I wasn't in a position to let this hang over my head. I didn't have time to be distracted by all the what-ifs.

I had chosen my place with Matt and Glenda on their journey to revenge. I had chosen to join his burgeoning pack and teach our young luna everything I could.

If I was going to be rejected, I needed it done, like ripping a bandage off.

Demi growled, We will bite his head off if he dares to utter the words.

I laughed and drifted down the hallway to the sounds of movements in the kitchen. I expected to replace my father, but to see Grayson at the stove cooking was something else.

Dad turned to me with a wide grin, "The warrior princess has awakened. How are you feeling?"

"Wired," I said, "Any chance I could get a moment alone with Grayson?"

Grayson flinched at the stove and Gordon grinned, gesturing towards the balcony, "I'll keep it from burning."

He slipped from his seat, shoved Grayson aside, and took over. It smelled like frying pork. Maybe he was making carbonara. I wasn't sure. Grayson didn't even look at me as he trudged towards the balcony.

At least this way if Demi felt the need to throw him over the balcony, we wouldn't have to haul him far.

I slid the door closed behind us and took a deep breath.

"We're... Uhm... Carbonara? Your dad said-"

"Stop," I said, holding up a hand. "At least look at me while being awkward."

He turned, his face was the picture of panic, his eyes were wide and he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else than on the balcony with me.

"Let's just get it over with," I said. "You're free from Teagan, so I would guess you plan to go back to where you're from. I don't have that luxury. I... thank you for taking care of my Dad all this time, but I really don't have time to beat around the bush. I'm in the middle of a very large-scale operation. I've chosen my place and I won't be changing my mind."

His brow furrowed and a huffed, "I can't change what's happened to me, so if you're going to reject me, you should-"

"No!" He squawked. His dark skin darkened further as he clamped a hand over his mouth and groaned. His eyes flashed and he shifted his weight, awkwardly and nervous. "I... That's not. I don't want that. I don't want that at all. She's dead, and I—" "So you were going to reject me?"

"No-Yes, but not because I wanted to," his shoulder slumped. "I never... Never wanted to."

"Past tense."

"I don't want to," he corrected himself. "I'll never want to. Ever. Okay? Would... Do you want-I'd understand if."

I tilted my head staring at him as he drew a hand through his long hair, tumbling it out of the sloppy bun he'd had it in.

"By every spirit in the forest, why do you..." He shook his head and stepped further back.

I glared at him, walking closer to him. His eyes widened and he stepped back further and held out a hand.

"Don't come any closer."

"So you don't want to reject me, but you don't want me near you either?"

"I'd rather not... jump you where your father can see."

My brain went quiet as he looked away from me.

"You're... so..." He groaned and fell onto the lounge chair nearby. Holding his head in his hands, "Maddening. I haven't been able to think straight since I first saw you and it's been hell. I just... I'm trying to be sensible and careful. I don't want to hurt you or make it worse, but it seems like I'm just making a mess of things."

I swallowed, "Why is this so hard for you?"

"You're so beautiful," he almost wailed. I lifted my head proudly, pleased with the compliment. "And strong. It's just... I can't even... I can feel how strong you and Demi are and I just want so badly to hold you and we just met and after everything you've been through, I figured you wouldn't welcome clumsy, heavy-handed advances."

He winced, "Not that I'm a heavy-handed person. Really. I know what I look like, but it's a façade. A defense mechanism even. Even Adonai is-we're practically cinnamon rolls on the inside."

I snickered, unable to help myself. A cinnamon roll?

He scowled, "That was the most unmanly way to explain that I am probably one of the most awkward people on the planet."

I snickered, Demi found him amazingly amusing, "I don't remember what a cinnamon roll tastes like."

He looked up at me and I met his gaze evenly, "How did you know her name?"

He blinked, "Adonai told me... It's a thing in my family... among other things."

I crossed the space and watched him go still. My heart was racing, but I didn't feel like I was wrong. I forced him to lean back a little so I could sit sideways in his lap. His face darkened as he held himself still.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading one of my hands through his hair. It was as thick as I imagined it was and silky. As my fingers grazed his scalp, he let out a low rumble and bowed forward, turning his head to bury his face in the curve of my shoulder. His hands wrapped around me, pressing me against his chest and he trembled as if he were terrified I would vanish.

"She would have killed you," he said softly. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

I frowned, thinking back to the sight of Grayson after he'd snapped Megan's neck.

"If you're going to apologize for something, apologize for being awkward and confusing, not killing that wench's daughter." I leaned into him, breathing in his scent and feeling it calm me. He smelled like whiskey and leather, something musky and a little sweet. My head was spinning and Demi growled low and content at the back of my mind.

"I'm sorry for being awkward." He said and I laughed, "I'll make it up to you."

I grinned and pulled back, "You're cute. Adorable even."

His jaw dropped open and I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"It's Emoni. I don't have a nickname and if you let my father burn my carbonara, you're going to have a lot more to make up for."

I slipped off his lap. He seemed stunned before jumping to his feet and rushing inside.

Luckily, my father had never burned carbonara in his life, though he tended to hate making it.

"It's crispy," Dad said with a grin, "Just in time."

Grayson nudged him out of the way, "You're off pasta duty."

Dad laughed, "Glad you two sorted that out... any chance you'll be returning to Frost Pelt with us?"

I looked at him and shrugged, "I don't know... I have a position of a sort these days."

Dad nodded and I smelled the beginnings of the perfect carbonara sauce as I slid onto a barstool.

"Do you think you could spare a little time for your old man?" He asked, "Before rushing headfirst into whatever scheme you're mixed in now?"

I leaned against him, "I'm sure I can make that happen. If Grayson proves himself a capable pasta provider."

"You sound just like your mother!" He cried as Grayson pulled down bowls for us. "Watch out, Grayson. She'll have you dreaming in Italian sooner than you think."

He turned with two full bowls and the smallest smile, "I'm sure I'll be fine."

My heart leaped at the smoothness of his Italian. Demi growled in contentment as he set a bowl in front of me and a fork.

"Bon Appetit."