Ah.
Maybe that was why people suffered the clinical, acrid taste. It seemed like a small price to pay to forget. A deal with the devil. Except the devil was going to be my husband. I took another drink, shakily placing the bottle on the counter beside me.
A different heat spread, not as piercing as before, but instead something soothing. The edges of the room blurred, and my limbs loosened. The corner of my mouth quirked as my problems slowly locked themselves away in the recesses of my mind.
It could be worse. I could end up bound to some grouchy bastard who was old enough to be my father. Based on what I heard, that sounded exactly what Kaelen was trying to avoid by claiming me as his wife.
I was still pissed. Not at him. Not exactly, but at everything.
For once in my life, I wanted to have a choice.
And for one fleeting moment, I really believed I would.
I snorted, taking another hit of vodka.
Familiar footsteps grew louder until a broad figure appeared, leaning against the wall. My body tightened, attuned to him. Stupid pretty alpha. His dark green eyes bounced between me and the liquor, his expression frustratingly blank.
God really did have favorites, and Kaelen Finnegan was one of them.
Chiseled muscles framed his inked torso, and his sculpted ass looked like it had been poured into those pants. I bet I could bounce a quarter off it if I tried.
When he didn’t move, I raised my drink in salute.
“Hello,husband,” I slurred, closing my lips around the neck of the bottle and taking another drag, hissing as the liquor burned my raw throat.
Eighteen
KAELEN
The inside of my palm itched no matter how much I scratched it. My grandmother once said that was a sign of good fortune. I rolled my eyes, shoving my hands into my pockets. The only luck coming to me would be in the form of a tiny terror by the name of Willow Sterling.
WillowFinnegan.
A primal, possessive glow bloomed in the hollow of my chest as my alpha beamed with pride. My last name sounded good on her.
As much as I knew Willow would be displeased, that didn’t snuff out the peaceful feeling that eased my ever-tetchy alpha. Willow would bemy wife, and soonmy omega.
Ever since I first scented her delicious spring scent, I knew she belonged to me. She resisted it, but I knew she felt too, knew I was her alpha.
Our matingcouldwait, even if the idea made my skin prickle.
I roamed through the quiet halls, pushing open the door to ourbedroom.
A discarded book sat on the settee by the fire. A half-naked man with an ax winked at me from the cover. My girl liked dirty books. I scratched my beard, disappointed not to find her sleepy and cuddled under a blanket like Torin had mentioned.
It was past dinnertime. I made my way down to the kitchen, assuming Willow got tired of waiting for me and decided to eat something.Good girl.She needed to take care of herself. I needed to take care of her.
My brow pinched as I paused, taking in the vision of Willow propped up on the counter. At first, I was entranced by how adorable she looked, dwarfed by her oversized sweater.
Then, I saw the half-empty bottle of vodka clutched in her tiny hand. She swayed, glossy eyes twinkling in the muted light.
Streaks of red stained her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed as she raised the Grey Goose bottle like some sloshed little pirate captain.
“Hello, husband.”
Shite.
My temple throbbed. I clicked my tongue, not knowing how much she had heard. Enough that she knew I claimed we were married.
