Page 9 of His Bride

“If you’d listened, justlistenedto Alexius and not acted so cocky and selfish, soyou, he would never have been shot, and my children wouldn’t be running the risk of growing up without a father.”

I shake my head, my chest squeezing tightly. “Punch away at me all you want, but we both know I’m right. Alexius would want us all together, and I’m not letting you stand in my way.”

The door opens; Isaia takes one look, steps inside, and slides in next to Leandra.

Fucker has always been anal when it comes to this woman, always acting like her personal guard dog. I’m surprised he doesn’t piss on her leg every day at breakfast.

“You okay?” he asks her. “The car’s here.”

“Car?” I level Leandra with a glare. “You’re letting him go see Alexius, but not me?”

“No, asshole,” Isaia bites out. “I’m staying here. And tone it down. Jesus,” he curses, pulling a hand through his hair. “I get it. Fights at funerals, it’s a thing. But do not come at her. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She’s keeping us from him. She won’t bring him here, she’s being a?—”

“Careful,” Isaia warns. “Don’t say something you’ll regret.”

“When did you turn into a motherfucking hen?” I ask him.

“Since you turned into a plain motherfucking idiot.” Then he bends his head, brushing his mouth against her temple. “I’ll see you to the car.”

“It better not be yours. It’s an eyesore.”

“Not my car, asshole. It’s a black one, tinted windows, because I’m not a moron, and I haven’t replaced my head with that of a fucking pig.”

Did he just call me pig-headed?

They’re almost out the door when Isaia turns back. “I mean it, Caelian.”

“Mean what?” I snap.

“Watch your mouth.”

“You know our brother has already beaten the piss out of you once because of her,” I taunt. “He’s not even dead yet, and already you’re making a move on his wife.” Just because I won’t ruffle Leandra’s feathers…much…doesn’t mean I won’t fuck with my brother’s.

Isaia grins, but it’s one of those oh-you-didn’t grins that’s supposed to intimidate. But on him it just looks stupid. “You have a wife, too, you know,” he starts. “And you haven’t been paying her much attention lately.”

“Oh, don’t go there, brother,” I warn.

“Leave her alone and hanging any longer, and she might just come looking for comfort with someone…familiar.”

“Motherfucker!” With a roar, I rush him, and he goes to punch even though I sock him hard in the stomach. A strangled soundescapes as the air is forced from his lungs, but he doesn't back down.

His retaliation is swift and brutal, the taste of copper saltiness exploding in my mouth as his fist connects with my jaw. The echo of the impact detonates through my skull like a thunderclap, but all it does is stoke my anger further.

I rear back, ready to introduce his pretty-boy face to my fist, when Nicoli pulls us apart and shoves us in opposite directions.

“Decorum, fuckheads,” he growls. “Isaia, see Leandra out. You,” he says, pointing at me, “don’t move. I’ll be back.”

He goes, and Isaia looks at me. “I meant what I said.”

“Go get a wife of your own, you goddamn child.”

He flips me off, and I pick up an empty glass, hurling it at him right as Nicoli steps back in.

He ducks.

The glass smashes.

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