Page 7 of Married into the Mob
“He finally slithered out of that hole.” Slithered had become our code word for when things went to shit, and Flint would have noted it.
After recent events when Ranger met his mate, we’d agreed never to use it except in an emergency, despite flinging it at one another as kids.
I pictured Flint grabbing Ranger and some of our other men and jumping into their cars. Shame they weren’t dragons, as they could shift, fly, and burn Draven.
Not that I administered harsh justice just because I didn’t like someone. But he and his family were bad dudes, and singeing the skin off his flesh and watching him fail to shift as his body shriveled and melted would be a fitting death for someone whose family had caused ours so much pain.
“Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere and allow the remaining ceremonies to take place,” Stefan suggested. He placed a hand on Draven’s shoulder, and the wolf shifter hissed. But he paused, almost as if he were stunned at what he’d done, and they shared a glance before Draven flung the guy away, almost knocking off his glasses. Stefan’s eyes flickered as he clenched his jaw while he rubbed his arm as though he’d been burned.
“Are you okay?” My mate was concerned about Stefan, even as Draven was forcing him into marriage and hurting him physically.
Stefan managed a weak smile and nodded.
“What are you doing here? Go back to the hole in the wall you call an office,” Draven hissed at the zoning officer.
Stefan and Dravendidknow one another.
Stop thinking of them and get our mate!
My beast was right. I’d allowed my hatred of Draven to overshadow protecting the omega.
“You can talk all you want. I’m taking…” I paused and nodded at my mate, as I was about to say his name for the first time. “…Odell.”
But Draven had dropped Odell’s hand, and my mate stormed past, saying if anyone touched him, he’d punch them in the face.
Feisty. My wolf approved.
Draven attempted to follow his husband-to-be, but I stood in his way. He barreled into my chest and growled, his wolf shining through his gaze. But instead of pulling out the knife that was outlined under his shirt, he raised his hands, admitting defeat.
I guessed that knife was a constant companion. When he was younger, he’d threatened other kids with a knife, and he would be more proficient now.
He and pack members who’d fled had become the boogeymen of the shifter world. But something was wrong, because backing off wasn’t his style. His demeanor suggested he was a “fight first and don’t bother asking questions later because your opponent was dead” kinda guy.
But I’d take the temporary win. There’d be payback which was a so-and-so, but I had to save my mate. Wolf shifter law put our devotion to our mates as equal to our loyalty to the pack.
“Later!” I did the pretend tipping-the-hat gesture as a thank-you, and Draven would understand it was a huge F you.
I half strode, half skipped backward, a trick shifters could manage without tripping, while keeping my eyes locked on Draven’s. A raised brow and I was out the door, racing after my mate.
He was human but he had speed, and he was tearing down the stairs into the bright sunshine, his sandy hair ruffled by the wind as he pushed past people who yelled, “Hey,” and “Watch it.”
“Wait up.”
He glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes glaring at me, and slammed into Flint. He emitted a loud shriek as my brother grabbed him, preventing him from face planting onto the concrete.
“Get off me.” He struggled out of Flint’s grasp and ducked to avoid Ranger.
“Where’s Draven?” Ranger scanned the entrance to the building.
“Inside.” Or he had been. Whether he was still there was anyone’s guess. Ignoring my brothers, I took hold of my mate.Probably the wrong thing to do, but it was too late. He told me to piss off.
“You need to come with me.”
“What are you…?” Flint started.
“Wait!” Ranger put a hand on Flint’s chest, and my brothers shared a glance.
“Please tell me that you’re not… you didn’t…” Flint began. “That he isn’t your?—”
