“I can and I will,” I said, my face tight as I held her arms to keep her from falling off the counter. “This is the easiest way. The most foolproof protection I can give you. Making you my wife.”
Words lingered on my tongue. Despite the righteous fury blazing in her eyes, I loved the way that sounded. My wife. Willow was mine. And soon, she would be my omega. I wouldn’t take that choice away from her. But soon, she’d see that she was mine. That I was hers.
That we belonged together.
“So that’s it? I have no say. I’m yours? How could you? I trusted you. You’re no better than my dad,” she hissed, lashing out and punching my chest. “Made me believe in you. Believe you were different, only to prove to me you’re not.”
Furious tears spilled from her eyes, her assault frivolous. Air whistled through my nostrils as I sucked in a breath, closing my fingers around her wrists. I didn’t care if she hit me, but I didn’t want her to hurt herself.
Her words landed like a punch in the gut. They rang true. Copper slid over my tongue as blood coated my lips. I was anotheralpha stealing her voice from her.
“Let me go,” she bellowed.
“No.”
For a second, I thought she was going to spit on me. But no. She fought against my hold, mumbling a series of slurred words I didn’t quite understand. The intent was clear, however. If I demanded marriage from my omega, she’d think me no better than her father.
I wasn’t used to asking for things.
Yet, I had to. I couldn’t make demands of my omega. At least not without her consent. If she were to be my wife, my partner in all things, I must treat her as such. I had to trust her to understand.
“Willow,” I said, pressing my cheek against hers and marking her with my scent. Her body stilled, a tiny sound of pleasure escaping her. “I believe marrying you is the best option to protect you from Vittorio Rossi. But I will not force you into anything.”
A dangerous noise built within me, my alpha disagreeing with me. My hand ran over Willow’s messy braid. If she refused marriage, I’d keep her safe. Even if it meant slaughtering every Italian until their blood stained the streets of Boston.
Glossy eyes stared at me as she brushed her cheek against mine. My heart leapt at the gesture; she was marking me.Fuck.I really wanted to have this conversation with her when she was sober. I hoped she remembered it tomorrow morning.
“Some butcher. Can’t you just kill them?”
A disbelieving laugh escaped me, not sure I had heard her correctly. Was this the same woman who begged me to spare her piece of shite father? While she insisted she didn’t mind the blood on my hands, I had a hard time picturing her as someone who relished the idea of death and decay.
My sweet omega was full of surprises. I cupped her chin, fascinated by her beauty.
“The Rossis are a part of the Cosa Nostra, with ties to powerful Italian families as ancient as they are bloodthirsty. If I were to go to war with them, we would have families from Chicago, New Jersey and even Rome at our doorstep. Make no mistake, Willow,” I added, seeing her trying to process the information. “I would slit their throats until the Charles ran red with their blood.”
“Then why—” she started, when I silenced her with my finger on her lips.
“Because I am a strategist first. I don’t needlessly take life. A war between the Irish and the Italians would lead to you being sealed away in some safe house for months or years until the dust settled. Even then, nothing would stop the Italians from trying to claim you.”
A shudder rolled through her as she covered her mouth, looking like she might throw up again. My lips found her forehead, resting there as I held her tighter.
“The Italians are good Catholics.” She eyed the cross dangling over my chest, and I answered her unasked question. “Irish Catholics like to bend the rules.”
The tight lines around her mouth relaxed, and I inhaled a deep breath.
“It means that if the Italians find out you are legally wed to another, and always have been, they will consider the contract void, and leave you in peace. Meaning you can live your life versus hiding away from bloodshed always in fear of one of their men coming for you.”
My words hung in the air between us as I tried to calm the slight tremble still coursing through her.
“Willow. Trust me. This is the only way. Do you consent?”
A small, defeated noise rolled off her tongue. She tipped her head back, staring at me, nostrils flared.
“Fine. But I’m pissed at you.”
Expected.
“I want something shiny in exchange.”
