He shook his head. “All we could find out was that they were all unmarried and in their twenties. The men in the village think it could have been a roaming band of demons, but I would have scented them around the area.”
Unmarried women in their twenties.The butterflies turned to stones as I glanced back at the sign. The sign that was no longer my name.
Felix scratched the back of his head and looked down sheepishly. “This is where I need you to try not to get mad.”
“What did you do?”
“I may have…gone down to the courthouse and registered us as a married couple.”
I blinked. “How? You shouldn’t be able to do that without me. Don’t we both need to sign and say vows to a priest or something?”
“Well yes. That’s what the clerk said at first.”
“At first?” I asked, not liking where this was going.
“At first.” He nodded. “But with the church being burned down, and you know…the economy.”
“Felix.” I said, impatience bleeding in my voice.
“Well, it turns out if you show up with claws, fangs, and three orcs, they’ll let you do just about anything.” His tone lightened, like someone who found a great bargain on fleece at the market.
Dizziness made me sway on my feet. “We’re married?”
“Yes.” He said, almost hesitant.
“Like…married, married?”
Felix tilted his head. “Do humans have multiple kinds of marriages?”
I’m married. To a man I met no less than three days ago. A man who holds up the courthouse with a gaggle of merry fucking orcs. “I need a drink.”
“I think that would be wise, yes.” He guided me down the walkway of my (our?) home. My mind was reeling, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. “Lamb?”
“Yes?” I asked.
“I know I’ve pushed well past all sense of boundaries, but I have one request.”
“Shoot.”
His gaze drifted to mine, a light pink blush across his face. “Can I carry you over the threshold?”
Sighing, I stopped in front of the door. “Fuck it, why not?”
Chapter 5
Felix
The gods must have been testing me. If so, I was losing terribly. Why else would my mate willingly let a crazed man into her home?
Alone.
After yielding to my selfish desire to carry her across the threshold to celebrate the marriage forced upon her. Then, as if by some cruel joke, provided me with a robe to wear after drawing a bath. A robe she handmade. It smelled like fucking jasmine.
And we’re alone
I shifted in my seat in her living room, checking to make sure she hadn’t returned before sneaking another whiff at the garment.She’s not getting this back. It’s mine now.
“Sorry for the wait.” She called from the kitchen. I sat up straighter and dropped the sleeve. Not that it mattered. Any attempt to not look like a deranged lunatic went out the window when she stepped into the room. Brie had changed into a robe of her own. One where the only thing holding it together was the flimsiest looking string I’d ever seen. The evening sun filtered through the peaks of lavender curtains to dance on the graceful slope of her neck. My throat went dry as my gaze followed its neckline, dipped low exposing the tops of her plump breasts. I snatched a pillow from the side of the love seat and covered my rising cock. I wasn’t sure how much my own robe would cover, but judging by the flair in her wide hips, it wasn’t enough.
