Page 50 of Broken Arranged Mate
Grayhide territory is obviously dangerous for so many reasons, but I’m arguably more equipped to handle it than Kira is. I could point out to her that I’ve been training to fight from a young age—when Dorian was training, too—but reminding her that she’s got less defense on her side than I do probably isn’t going to help.
I tell her I won’t leave until she gets here, then hang up, grabbing a plain black backpack from the floor. I’m not entirely sure about what I’m doing—if I slowed down for even a second, I might be able to talk myself into staying. Use a little bit of logic here. But no matter what the explanation is for that premonition, I don’t want it to happen.
Oren would never lay a hand on me. Even with everything that’s happened between us, I know that with certainty. Which means whatever was happening in that premonition was an accident or a fluke. If I leave now, I can stop it from happening.
What’s the point of a premonition if you’re not meant to change the future?
As slowly and quietly as I can, I pack a bag and slip through the window, using the stone bricks on the side of the house as my foot and hand holds. Instead of dropping to the ground like I might at the gym, I lower myself gently, letting each foot touch one at a time before turning and sneaking through the softest part of the ground.
My only advantage is that I know the outside of this house now, and I know Oren must be exhausted. Besides, the lock on my door is still on, so that will delay him slightly in coming after me when he does realize I’m gone.
Crouching low and moving quickly, I sneak to the end of the driveway, then to the end of the long dirt road that will bring Kira toward me. She must have managed decently with my instructions, because about an hour later, I see her headlights in the distance.
Chapter 29 - Oren
I said I do, Oren, but it’s not my fault, I didn’t know I was marrying a monster.
Ash’s words play through my head again and again, looping on repeat. She married a monster. She said that I’m a monster.
And she’s right—even when I was trying to do the best thing, trying to do what’s right, I ended up hurting her in the process. It was moments of weakness that led to this marriage in the first place—pointing to her during that council meeting, allowing the whole thing to go any further than a joke.
All because I missed her and wanted to hold her again. All because the aching and longing I’d felt for years had compounded to a point of pain.
If I were a stronger man, I never would have let this happen. If I really felt about Ash the way that I think I do, I never would have put her in harm’s way, especially not for the benefit of my own pleasure.
Hurting people to benefit himself is exactly what my father did for the duration of his time as alpha leader. It’s what he saw modeled to him through my grandfather, and he never questioned that it was the right thing to do.
I’m exactly the same as him—thinking I’m doing the right thing, but actually ending up as the villain in everyone’s story.
But now, I actuallyamgoing to do the right thing—I’m going to call this off. Get an annulment, allow Ash to go back to her family and friends, her pack. It’s not her job to sacrifice so much for the Grayhides.
I turn on my heel to head to her room, knock on the door, and tell her that I’m going to start the process for an annulment, when my phone rings.
It’s the middle of the night, so my first thought is that there’s been an attack—something on the border. For the men to call me in the middle of the night, so soon after my marriage, it must be bad.
But it’s not a shifter from the border.
It’s my mother.
“Mom?”
“Oren,” she breathes, and there’s the distinct sound that she’s slumping backwards into a chair, like she’s relieved that I picked up. I immediately think about Raegan and what could have possibly happened.
“Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over there?”
“What?” she almost laughs, but her voice sounds sleepy. “No, no. I just had this…feeling about you, dear. Are you doing okay?”
I pause, blinking, thinking about all the times in my life it would have been nice to hear that from her. All the times my father put his hands on me, or put me through some ridiculous punishment, and my mother stayed silent.
There’s a part of me—the part that’s still a little boy, trapped in that huge mansion—that wants to rebel against her. Tell her that the time has come and gone for questions like that.
But the other part of me, the grown adult, knows that things just weren’t that easy. That she did what she could. And that part answers, “Of course, Mom. Are you doing okay?”
Another pause. “You say that, Oren, but I just…I told you I was having a feeling. That you’re—I don’t know. Did I wake you?”
“No,” I admit, clearing my throat and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I was up.”
“How are things going with Ash?”
