“Get your fucking hands off my daughter, Fury!”
“Wait… ” My eyes snap open. “You’re?—”
“Your husband,” Orion Fury says proudly. His apologetic frown lifts into a smile as he rips off his black mask. “And it’s time you come home with me, pretty bride.”
She opens her mouth, but I quickly cover her scream.
“Shh, shh, you’ll be safe soon. Just don’t fight me.”
Naturally, she doesn’t listen, her clear lake eyes blazing as she sinks her teeth into my scarred palm.
“Fuck!” I snatch it back.
“OrionFury?!” she shouts, adrenaline overpowering the drug in her system. “Youasshole!”
The door behind me rattles with every staccato bang.
“I think you mean hubby,” I chuckle, trying to play off the fact I need to grab her sweet little ass and get out of here before her father breaks that door down.
In true Luna Bordeaux fashion, “compliant” isn’t in her blood. She’s the Phantom of the French Quarter’s daughter, a fighter through and through. Her limber body lands a few painful strikes against my ribs, slowing me down.
She’s been mine since the night our fathers made that bet before we were born, but this fury in her right now—my fucking namesake—is the hottest confirmation I could ask for.
One particularly sharp knee lands above my dick, making me double over around her right as the door breaks open. Sol fills the frame, his finger stabbing the air at me. His owl mask hangs crooked, and even the scarred half of his face twists with rage.
“You’re a dead man, Fury!”
In a burst, Sol lunges toward us. Goddamn, even thirty years my senior, he’s still fast.
I snatch up my crossbow, spin, and fire in a smooth motion. The bowclacksas the cable’s tension releases the dart that sinks deep into his thigh. He’d already crossed half the room, but the dart stops him in his tracks.
“Sorry, daddy-in-law. Not today,” I tsk, slinging the crossbow over my head and onto my back. “I’ve got a wedding to plan.”
He stumbles backward into the door frame, wide-eyed as he tries to steady himself. Luna’s tired, pained cry falls from her lips.
“What the fuck?” Nox growls, his voice somehow lower than his dad’s. “Did he shoot you?!”
“Sol!” his wife, Scarlett, yells, nearly making me double take between her and her daughter.
But Luna’s at my side, her kicks weakening.
“Hold onto me best you can.” I scoop her up bridal style, cursing myself for tying the restraints behind her back. It kept her from pulling off my mask or hitting me, but now she’s helpless.
“What?” she asks faintly, her blown pupils now hidden behind long lashes. But she curls into me anyway.
I shift her higher in my arms, getting a better hold of her, accidentally shaking loose a white feather from her bodice. Her breath kisses my neck, making me shiver even though her feverish cheek burns my skin.
The way she’s huddled into me, her intoxicating Carolina jasmine and honey scent flooding my senses, dusts upeverything I’ve had to bury so that I could stay in the shadows and keep her safe. And now, after years of desperately needing her, giving in only once… I’m finally holding my fiancée.
But this reaction isn’t because she wants me back. It’s because she’s been drugged.
Fear that I haven’t felt in a long time exploded in me the second I saw the spark leave her eyes, my Luna drifting away. I’m furious that those Wilde bastards drugged her, and even more furious I didn’t catch it sooner. But she’d said she’d felt fine, had acted normal outside the dressing room, and I’d asked about the drink—just the wrong one.
The fact that the Wildes wanted her aroused…compliant? My stomach churns. If I could go back, they’d all be in the ground. I’ve already started a war over Luna’s safety. I’ll raze the battlefield to keep her that way.
“I’m gonna kill ’em,” I vow, grabbing the bouquet and placing it on her lap.
“My dad?” she whimpers.