Page 92 of Moonlit Thorns

My chest puffs out a bit over the fact that she’s obviously impressed by how things have been put together here tonight. The décor is on par with any top celebrity or multi-millionaire’s wedding, only my brothers and I have used our own money for this purpose. We want everything raised here tonight to go directly to our charitable efforts.

I hate when I go to an event, and they’ve clearly spent a third of what they’re bringing in to wine and dine money from the attendees.

“What kind of charity work does your organization do?” Anabelle asks, turning to me.

“We try to spread the wealth around, so each year we have a different focus. Over the last couple of years, we’ve worked with organizations who help the homeless, some that have to do with illiteracy, and a few that run breakfast programs in schools. But we always include women’s shelters and some organizations that help abused children.”

Anabelle gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand. “Will we have the opportunity to dance tonight, or will you have to make the rounds the entire night?”

I turn her toward me. “Do you really think I’m not going to take the opportunity to dance with you this evening when you look like that?”

Though I can only see part of her cheeks because of the mask, I’m pretty sure they pinken.

“Good. I’ve been looking forward to dancing with you.”

“And I’m the only one you’ll be dancing with tonight. Remember that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Should we go find Nero? Meet his potential fiancée?”

I huff out a long breath. “Don’t remind me of his insane intentions for tonight.”

Anabelle sets her hand on my chest. “Asher, give the woman the benefit of the doubt, at least until you meet her.”

“She probably doesn’t deserve it,” I grumble.

Anabelle’s hands move to her hips. “What would you say to your brothers if they said something similar about me?”

“I’d tell them to mind their own fucking business.”

“So maybe you need to take your own advice.” She pins me with a stare.

I know she’s right, though I don’t want to concede. “I’ve been looking out for my brothers since we were kids.”

Anabelle’s face softens, and she traces my jawline with her finger. “But you’re all adults now, and your father is long gone. Maybe it’s time to let the reins go just a little.”

It’s a hard habit to break.

When we were kids, and my father got angry, I’d often take the blame for things my brothers had done so that they wouldn’t have to deal with his form of corporal punishment. As it was with my mother, taking his fists myself was easier than watching him hurt the ones I love. That only worked until my brothers got old enough to understand what I was doing, though.

The instinct to protect them is as strong today as it was when we were children. But Anabelle’s right. Nero’s a smart man, the most intelligent of the four of us, and I have to trust that if he sees something good in this girl, it’s for good reason.

“All right, fine. If we must. Let’s head over to our table. They’re probably somewhere over there.”

She nods and loops her arm through mine again. We make our way through the crowd, and despite my mask, we have to stop a few times in order to say hello to people. I introduce Anabelle simply by her name, unsure whether to refer to her as my girlfriend or what.

What we have feels like so much more than that, especially now that she’s wearing my collar.

When we finally get to the other side of the ballroom where the tables are set up, I spot Nero standing near our table with a red-haired woman in a navy blue dress and a silver mask.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself, remembering what Anabelle said. “Nero.”

He turns and smiles. He has his raven’s mask on that he uses at the club. I realize for the first time since he first mentioned Maude that she may change things for him. Will he invite her to join the fun—that would certainly be his style—or is she the kind of woman who would be appalled by such a thing?

Nero was still partaking in the fun at the club when he first mentioned her, but he wasn’t at the last event for anything other than observing. Something I didn’t give too much thought to at the time since that’s his kink, but maybe there was more to it.

He smiles and shakes my hand, then directs his attention to Anabelle, moving in for a hug. “You look beautiful, Anabelle.”

When my mood sours at the sight of another man’s hands on her, I have to remind myself that he’s my brother. Unlike him, I’m not fond of sharing.

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