Page 33 of The Alpha's Arranged Bride

It was only a few more minutes before she could tell that he was asleep. The silence in the room shifted and the tension eased just a little. The agony that Agnar cloaked himself in seemed to dissipate like a storm cloud finally passing over.

He was on his back, blissfully asleep, where hopefully he’d have no dreams or nightmares. Getting close to him felt wrong because she couldn’t ask. She settled for moving to her side and resting her hand on his, under the blankets.

It felt like just enough to let him know that she was there.

Chapter 14

Agnar

Agnar wouldn’t have known one Wyoming city from another, but Casper had the look of a city torn about what it wanted to be. Half of it looked industrial while the other half was old, quaint, and sweet. All of it was framed by a chain of mountains, blue skies, and a river cutting through the heart of it. Even the river seemed torn in two. It was half iced over and half awake, steaming in the early morning.

They’d left Nightfall Pack lands just after five that morning. He felt more comfortable driving the truck they’d borrowed from Kieran—an older pickup that was just about more rust than metal—in the cover of dark, early enough that hardly anyone else was out on the road.

The boys were quiet, but the way they fidgeted most of the drive made it clear just how excited they were to make the trip. Though they were heading straight to the auto repair shop that Prairie Rose’s brother co-owned, the promise of the unknown past that was enough to thrill any young boy, especially Blake and Levi who had been raised primarily in the desert. They’d hardly left their small compound. The only way he had to keep them safe was within their borders.

“Take a left at the light.” Prairie Rose had her phone open, but she hadn’t turned on any navigation app. She was reading off the directions.

Agnar obeyed, turning into another maze of streets with an even more industrial vibe. Most of the buildings in the area looked like warehouses, garages, sorting facilities, shipping places, and sales yards for things like windows and overhead garage doors. They passed a large hardware store and another with hot tubs propped up all over the parking lot and a giant neon flamingo on the roof. The boys both peered out of the small windows in the backseat to get a better look.

“And a right… here.”

He signaled and turned off. His hands weren’t capable of much, but he could do this. Drive. Hold a wheel.

He might not be able to pick up his axe any longer, but he could wield a gun.

That wasn’t the warrior’s path or the one he’d chosen for himself, but in the past two weeks, the pain of loss hardened into a stone in his gut and the burn in his chest was replaced with a cold, clinical desire for vengeance.

Alexander was no longer a Phaethon. There was no bright sun shining for him. He’d betrayed his own kind, and in doing so, he’d turned himself into a packless man without a family. Alexander was now king of nothing, no matter if he was presiding over their lands, pretending to be alpha. He was Alexander the luckless, soon to be Alexander the dead.

“One more left on the next street, not this one, but the next turn… right here. That’s it!”

Prairie Rose pretended the whole drive that she wasn’t excited, but she was beaming. No one should be so beautiful in just a plain black coat and a pair of jeans, but she was, and while he was driving, he found himself trying not to be captivated by her. Trying, and failing.

Every night he’d spent in her bed, he found it harder to concentrate on what he should be focusing on, namely his revenge plan. He found himself softening. Weakening. His heart had been a dead thing, a barren land, since he was ten years old. Every night when he slipped between those cool cotton sheets in that little log cabin, he felt the cracks forming. They never touched, but he could feel her heat so close to him. Her quiet, even breaths were all the white noise he needed to be lulled into sleep that shouldn’t have been so dreamless and peaceful. She chipped away at the ice surrounding him and banished his demons just by existing.

He’d planned to leave and get his vengeance and die trying. But there were his sons. There was Prairie Rose. There was her stubborn pack, including her stubborn family and the stubborn alpha, all insistent on trying to help him find a new path.

The way Prairie Rose lit up at seeing the steel building with the bland white and red letters with the auto repair shop’s name, you’d think that she’d just touched down somewhere exotic, like Paris or Milan.

It was getting harder and harder to leave her bed in the morning, when he wanted to linger just a few minutes longer with her soft feminine scent in his nose and the warmth of her small body next to his. It was growing impossible to think of leaving his sons. They’d changed so much. They hugged him now, even if he was stiff and awkward. They helped Prairie Rose, eager to learn things like cooking and they were helpful with cleaning. They liked the books they brought home from school, often trying to coax him into letting them read out loud to him. They still ran and tousled and play fought hard, but in Wyoming, they were truly children for the first time ever.

“We’re here!” Prairie Rose exclaimed, even though it was obvious.

The parking lot was filled with junk cars and trucks, stripped down vehicles that had been turned into hulks and shells. There was a fenced compound that had the shapes of cars under tarps and covered motorcycles. The building had an office area with a token square glass window below the big sign and four bays with white windowless overhead doors. It wasn’t a small bit of real estate, and it wouldn’t have been cheap to purchase, as new as it looked.

The boys stayed quiet, enthralled at the new scenery. Prairie Rose turned to him as he killed the engine, her eyes so huge and luminous that he couldn’t look away. A shiver rippled through him. He told himself it was nerves. Yes, he was nervous about being there. Nervous that this might be his one shot at regaining his wolf. He knew it wasn’t true.

Proving that she was far too in tune with how he felt for his comfort, Prairie Rose took his hand, nudging her palm over his even though his right rested on his knee. He almost made a sound, almost forgot to be carefully blank, almost let her see how comforting it was to have that small palm brush over his fingers and knuckles.

She touched him for comfort and reassurance, as a friend would do, but that was more than anyone else had ever done. The fact that he was used to that now should have spoken to just how far he’d lost himself, but the old berating voice banging around in his skull had finally shut the fuck up and wasn’t taunting him about it any longer.

“This is where your brother works?” Levi asked, awe edging his tone.

“He makes cars and trucks new?” Blake echoed.

“I think so.” Prairie Rose withdrew her hand and flicked off her seatbelt. She opened her door and then pulled open the door for the boys. The backseat was one of those tiny little benches, barely big enough for them, but they’d spent the whole four-hour drive absolutely content. “I mean, yes, it’s his place. I think they might fix bikes here. Maybe do some custom work? I don’t really know. We’ll talk to him. You can ask him, and he’ll tell you all about it, I’m sure.”

She took the boys’ hands and walked them to the office. He locked the truck and trailed behind, looking over his shoulder, his senses tuned to danger as if a rogue wolf pack was going to jump out at them. The hair on the nape of his neck prickled. It was being in the city that did it. Being around humans always made the wolf in him anxious.

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