Page 147 of Juliet & Her Romeos

“Is he vain as well?”

“Confident.”

“Cocky.”

“A total badass,” Swan says, proudly. “He’s thisdon’t mess with my mates, or I’ll tear out your throatstylebodyguard.”

“Really?”

“My brother could kick Dimitri’s ass. He told me all these stories about when we were kids. What truly made me smile was that he also kept rambling about his ownfated mates. He couldn’t stop. He’s in love with them as much as I love you.”

“That’s great.”

Swan’s expression falls. “He also told me my real name.”

Anxiety spikes through me at the way that Swan’s trembling. “You don’t need to tell me or anyone.”

“I thought that I’d be excited to know,” Swan replies, quietly. “But when Link said it…and it’s a good name…it was like it had nothing to do with me. It felt like he was talking about someone else. That little boy died, the moment that he was dragged to the academy. Then Swan was born. Is it okay, if I don’t tell you? I know that we don’t keep secrets from each other, it’s just that I suffered for the name of Swan. I feel like I’ve earned it. I don’t want to be anyone else.”

I kiss him gently. “This isn’t a secret. You can choose any name you like. It’s yours, my Swan.”

Swan relaxes, kissing me back.

Vito has been studiously pretending not to hear our conversation. He turns to a large cake box, adjusting it.

As soon as Vito turns his back, Swan edges closer to the counter.

I roll my eyes, when I notice that once again, he’s sneakily prising with his nail at one of the amethyst roses, which decorate the counter.

“Thief,” I singsong in a whisper.

Swan stills. “Habit.”

He doesn’t stop working on the gem.

I cough.

Swan lifts his brow. “I’ve been given all this shit. I don’t just take from people like that. I could use this to make something for our Alphas. Amby likes cuff links. What if we found a way to…?”

His logic wouldn’t make sense to most people. But it does to me.

“You don’t need to give us anything,” Vito says without looking around. “You accepting our bond is your gift. We enjoy spoiling you.”

Swan jumps and snatches his hand away from the counter. “What the fuck is that? Eyes in the back of your head or other Alpha shit?”

My pulse races.

Ambrose said there were no rules, but stealing is alaw.

Surely, Swan must have found this pack’s limit, even with an Alpha who is as good as Vito.

Swan does that. He expects to be hurt. So, he pushes and pushes, until he is.

Waiting for it to happen, is even more difficult for him.

“Yep,” Vito replies, turning around and leaning against the counter. But he doesn’t make a move to punish Swan. “This is Ambrose’s bitch of a mom’s kitchen. If you fuck it up, Ambrose will likely be the one whose ass is handed to him over it. Do you want that?”

Swan becomes ashen. “Of course not.”

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