Page 97 of Branded

“That’ll be it.”

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me much, you’ve always been exceptional on the back of a horse. Better than your brothers to be honest.” He laughs and leans against the doorframe. “My old bones are telling me I need to go to bed, my girl. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Dad,” I say as I hug him tightly. He goes inside, leaving me alone on the porch with my thoughts. I pull out my phone and see a text from Sebastian.

Sebastian

Your father’s a good man. Terrifying, but good. How are you?

Me

He’s going to work you into the ground tomorrow to prove a point.

Sebastian

I can handle it. More worried about you. Are you okay?

Am I? I just confessed what Sebastian left out. Tomorrow I’ll have to watch Sebastian prove himself worthy of—what? Me? This marriage? My family’s grudging acceptance?

Me

I’m tired. And confused. And not ready to talk about any of it.

Sebastian

I’m in the guest room if you need me. Third door on the left. Otherwise, I’ll see you at six.

I stare at that text for a long time. I’m in the guest room if you need me.

Everything with Sebastian keeps coming back to choice. He gave me one before I left for Montana. Gave me another just now by not assuming I’d sleep beside him in my own house. Small things. But together they matter.

I go inside, say goodnight to my sisters, who are clearly dying to ask questions but hold back, and climb the stairs to the second floor. I pass my old room, the one I’ve been sleeping in since I arrived. Pass the bathroom and stop at the third door on the left where Sebastian is staying. He’s the outsider here, being tested and judged.

I should go back to my room. Should maintain distance and give us both space to process everything that happened today.

But I don’t want to sleep alone. I don’t want to lie in my childhood bed thinking about auctions, contracts and the two years still stretching ahead of me.

I open the door quietly. The room is dark except for the moonlight through the window. Sebastian sits on the edge of the bed. He looks up when I enter, surprise crossing his face.

“Lennox?”

“Is the offer still open?”

“Always.” He stands slowly. “What do you need?”

That’s the question, isn’t it? What do I need?

I close the door behind me, lock it quietly. My heart is pounding, adrenaline from the conversation with my father still coursing through me. Fear and anger and confusion all twisted together into something that feels like desperation.

“I need…” I stop, not sure how to articulate it.

He moves toward me slowly, giving me time to change my mind. “What are you asking for?”

“I need you to own me.” I grab his belt, pull him closer, my voice desperate. “I need to feel like I belong to someone. Like I’m not just drifting. Make me forget everything except that I’m yours.”

His hands come up to cup my face, his dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “Are you sure? Because once I start, once I take you the way you’re asking, I’m going to make sure you know exactly who you belong to.”

“I’m sure.” I kiss him, hard and demanding. “I need this. I need you to make me yours.”