Page 93 of Golden Burn

Martin nods. “I’ll be in touch. Congratulations again.” Then he’s out the door as quietly as he came.

Dom closes the door behind him, shaking his head. “You two better clean yourselves up. Etta, reapply your lipstick. Odin, think about your grandmother or something. You look like two love-stricken puppies, and we can’t have that.”

He’s right. We have to head back out into the wolf’s den. Separate from one another.

“We can do this,” Etta whispers, as if reading my mind. “The special days are still to come.”

“You’re right,” I reply, kissing her temple, lingering for an extra beat. She smells just as much like me as I smell like her. A sublime combination.

Smirking just enough for her to see, I gesture for her to go through the door. Once my new wife’s back is to me, I fit the familiar ice mask back into place.

But this time, it’s wonky, too solid and causes my skin to itch.

It doesn’t fit like it normally does. It’s not so easy to ignore.

Because now… it doesn’t belong there anymore.

35

Etta

‘Happy and Sad’ - Kacey Musgraves

I’m floating on a cloud that’s come to me from another dimension. My feet don’t penetrate the floor, not for the entire length of the hallway as myself and my new husband head toward the formal dining room.

Odin was mine in that room. Mine to kiss, mine to command, mine tosee. He was more than the partner I asked him to be last night. He was my husband.

Now, I sense something inside of him is rebelling. His aura pulses like that of a confused and dangerous animal. I know it’s not directed at me. But in this room, with these people, I’m not sure how he is going to accomplish that.

I see Martise first. She rushes to me and envelops me in a hug. I cling to her for a few extra seconds. When we pull away, the worry in the corner of her eyes is obvious, and it transfers to me tenfold. “Everything alright?”

I’m not sure if she’s asking because she witnessed the slap or because of something more. Odin is soon next to us. “Let’s get this over with.”

Martise nods and lets go of my arms. Before she pulls away, she leans in to whisper, “Don’t antagonize Cerbera. I don’t think Odin will let it slide so easily and I don’t want any blood on my new dress.”

Swallowing, I leave to find my seat next to Odin. He pulls it out to help me sit. His hands trail down my spine. My eyes flutter when he keeps them there. Then I sense the heat of a dozen eyes on us, and I twist in my seat, breaking his contact.

Odin spins to face the long table, both of us at the head of it. Martise, Dom, and Ford are all the way down at the end. Away from us. I can’t recall the seating chart in full clarity, but I don’t think Dom would have done this. Someone not in our inner circle has changed the seating. I try to find Gwen, see if she can fix it, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding from Leo/Henry. Unfortunately, there’s no time to change it, and even if I could, it will only cause chaos, something we definitely do not need.

Cerbera finds his seat next to me. Before he drops into it, he leans over and places two kisses on each of my cheeks. I try not to gag when his aftershave assaults me and overpowers what is left of Odin’s. “Congratulations Mrs. Bolt,” he says. I nod in thanks as he sits, and the servers bring out our first course.

I try to eat, but I can’t. My gloved hands are shaking. Odin is like a wall of marble next to me. Unfeeling on the outside, a torrent of emotions on the inside. I want to take his hand under the table, but everyone is watching us so closely, someone would notice. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cerbera set up cameras above and below the table.

“So, where is the honeymoon?” someone asks. A man to my right that I don’t know.

“None of your concern,” Odin cuts in. His hand is gripping his steak knife too tightly. The stranger clocks it and returns to his food.

Cerbera, chuckling to himself, eats with his mouth ajar, his position easy. I sense he’s doing it to rile Odin up. He’s doing a good job of affecting me, too. “That was some ceremony,” he says, his teeth stained red with wine.

“Yes,” I agree, picking at my meal.

“Did it feel good to hit him?”

I fight an outraged tremble. “No.”

Smiling cruelly, he shifts to Odin. “And you, Odin? How does it feel to be married for the second time?” The room tilts. The tension overflows. Odin fixes Cerbera with a death stare unlike any I have ever witnessed. Cerbera pounces. “Oh, does the new Mrs. Bolt not know?”

A commotion at the end of the table reverts everyone’s focus. Ford and Martise are standing, both covered in wine. They try to dry each other off, mumbling apologies. Using the distraction, I slip my hand under the table and grab Odin. His palm fits perfectly against mine, his fingers tight. I wish I had the superpower to speak inside his head. Maybe I could send him images of how he kissed me in the private room from my perspective. Maybe then he’d see how amazing he is.

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