Page 88 of Thorns of Deceit
“And let’s not forget,” Tyran added quietly, “the war your disappearance sparked between our families.”
I opened my mouth to object, but Tyran held up a hand.
“You don’t have to defend yourself to us,” he said quickly. “Aiden wants to start anew and we’ll follow his lead, but let us be clear: hurt our brother again and you’ll have us to deal with.”
I swallowed, guilt and possibly admiration at their love and loyalty for their brother filling my chest.
“He’s a better man than I am,” Kyran muttered, looking away. “But fine. A fresh start and a better one than the last.”
I eyed both men, the words sticking in my throat. There was nothing “better” about this, and I feared it would backfire worse than it had last time.
But I kept those words to myself and turned on my heel, stalked into the living room, and threw myself onto the couch. The cushions gave way beneath me, but they didn’t soften the weight pressing down on me.
THIRTY-THREE
AIDEN
Ijolted awake, heart slamming against my ribs at the absence of my wife’s soft form.
For a second, dread tightened my throat so hard I could barely swallow. But then voices registered. I heard Tyran’s low rumble, Kyran’s snark, and Raven’s soft laugh. I heaved a sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face.
The room smelled like my wife and sex. My shirt was missing, but Raven’s dress lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and my jeans were tossed across the chair from my striptease.
I yanked the jeans on and ambled out into the living room.
I should have woken before Raven, let her see the surprise from the very first blink. After she’d fallen asleep, I’d arranged the living and dining rooms in a way I thought she might appreciate. I wasn’t much of a decorator, but I fumbled through YouTube tutorials and figured I’d done all right.
It was the thought that counted, and this would be the wedding breakfast celebration we’d never really had. Something I should’ve done the first time.
It wasn’t too late—I had to believe that. I’d read up on romantic shit girls were into, so here we were.
I crossed the threshold of the living room, taking in the scene.
The chandelier cast a warm halo over my wife, the confetti crackling under her feet as she shifted. She was sitting at the round table, her fingers brushing over the rose petals while she smiled in the same way she had five years ago: soft, shy, luminous.
The sight stole my breath. The fact that my brothers were the cause of it stole my sanity. How dare they make her smile like that? I was the one up all fucking night, not them.
They stood like idiots, hovering around her. Kyran wore the expression of someone who was amused and annoyed at the same time. Or maybe he was annoyed because he was amused. Tyran’s expression was more restrained, but amusement twinkled in his eyes.
Raven’s eyes found mine and widened, a blush creeping up her ivory skin. Fuck, at this rate, we’d be spending an awful lot of time in the bedroom, and while I wouldn’t mind, we needed to talk and get some things straight.
I threw my brothers a look of contempt—and maybe a bit of jealousy. Naturally, they ignored me.
“You two,” I said, voice low, fierce. “Hope you behaved.”
“Oh, we did,” said Kyran. I wasn’t inclined to trust him, but Raven didn’t exactly look upset, so I’d let it slide this time.
Tyran folded his arms. “Since you decided to sleep in, we kept your wife company.”
“What kind of groom sleeps in for his wedding breakfast anyhow?” Kyran drawled. “Not a very good one if you ask me.”
Ignoring my brothers, I crossed the last few feet and, without thinking much beyond preserving the sight of her smile, scooped her up from the chair and settled her on my lap.
She squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Holding my wife,” I retorted.
“Your brothers are here,” she protested, her blush matching the roses in the vase.
