I’m only a human laid next to the god of war himself, ink running all over his chest like a map leading to the sweetest of rewards.
“Not your wife, Ares,” I fire back.
“The fuck you just say to me, princess?” A grunt roars in his chest as if he was ready to get up and fight.
Why do I like the fact that he’s a fighter so much?
I teased him about it on our wedding day but honestly, watching him fight is at the top of my list of things to do beforeI die. Imagining this huge man striking another dude with blood and sweat and…
Stop this, Mia.
He’s an asshole, and you must think about pushing him away rather than picturing his muscles moving when he’s in a cage. Get yourself together, for God's sake.
“You said ‘wife’. Well, I’m not your ‘wife’, Ares. Our marriage has been arranged like a business deal. There’s nothing remotely romantic about us, so you shouldn’t call me that,” I bite back, struggling to conceal the pure joy I get from getting under his skin.
Don’t start, Mia. You know he’s the kind of man who enjoys a challenge, and you just gave him one.
“Make no mistake, Mia.” His hand removes my book and sets it gently on the covers between us. Then, he grabs my wrist and rests his thumb on the inside of my skin, where the heart pounds, as if he’s assessing my stress level. My heart skips a bit at the touch of his calloused palm on my silky skin. His ink runs on the back of his hand with a skull recognizable anywhere.
“You are my wife, Mia. Mine to watch, touch, and savor. Everyone knows it, and if, for some fucked up reason, anyone tries to take you away from me, you’ll see what wrath erupts when you try to take what’s mine.” His emerald eyes shoot into mine as if he could pierce my skull with one glare at me.
“So don’t talk to me about this shit ever again. Your name is Mia Elisabeth Malone now. You’re the wife of the Prez of the Raven Sons, and I'll make sure you never forget it.”
Stuck in the headlights, I freeze.
My parents always joked about getting rid of me.
No one ever tried so hard to keep me.
“But why?” My lower lip trembles and his grip tightens on me. “Why did you marry me?” He doesn’t answer me, his brows furrowed and his gaze searching into my chocolate eyes as if hecould find answers in them. Time stops as his thumb strokes my skin gently, revealing goosebumps all over my arm. My lips part as I let his tender gesture wrap me in a fleeting moment of safeness.
There’s no one for you in this world, Mia.
Broken people are meant to stay this way.
You’ll be alone, forever and always.
I wish I could say his shitty attitude is still appalling to me, that I hate him for accepting my father’s deal, and that I’m repulsed by everything about him. But since I arrived, apart from his absence, he had made sure the house and his staff were here for me in any way I could need. It’s not about being a damsel in distress, crushing on the first guy being nice to me. I got my fair share of boyfriends before him, some of them quite funny and kind as well, so no, this is not new. But it would be dishonest to say that this isn’t different. Ares isn’t a typical thirty-two-year-old with a brain and a good face. He’s more. So much more. And I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t shake me.
Everything about him oozes power, control and violence. His hands are large and rough, his tall frame shaped like a fighter who just came out of the octagon after crushing his opponent's skull with his bare hands. His emerald eyes are strong and unforgiving, letting only a glimpse of humanity shine in it each time I come across his gaze. And his voice… his voice is like velvet and crushed concrete, making me want to let my head fall backward each time I hear it.
But that’s not what I prefer about him.
Nothing compares to the way his presence crowds my space each time I see him. The way he commands the room without a single word, how everyone else fades into the background when he's near. It's the way his mere existence pulls at something deep within me, something primal, something that scares and excites me in equal measure.
His aura is impossible to ignore, my body all too aware of his movement and looks. As if we were magnets, soulmates forced to be separated in another life and bound to be close to each other in this new reality without the privilege of claiming what’s ours.
“Don’t go in the guest bedroom tonight,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing slow circles in my forearm.
“I will, I don’t–I don’t want to stay here with you,” I mumble, my voice faltering with less confidence than I had before.
“You’re sure about that, princess?” A knowing smile draws at the corner of his lips.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” I explain quietly.
“I only have wrong ideas.” He chuckles darkly, making my mouth dry all of a sudden.
“Well, I don’t want you to…um…” My gaze is lost in his, while his dilated pupils drift to my parted lips.
