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Vinnie’s brows snapped together. “What?”
“Did you not see how she stayed so calm and still while gun was pressed to her head? There was no whimpering or shaking or crying. Breasha has soul of wolverine. And so, she is wolverine.”
Isaak and Dimitri—who was eating what looked like berries—both nodded.
Vinnie sighed. “She’s a pallas cat, and her name is Bree, but whatever.”
Bree spoke into Alex’s ear. “You know, I think your uncles might just consider me family now.”
“Shut up,” he repeated, still sounding a little choked up.
She smiled. “Sorry.”
She sat on his lap throughout the drive back to his apartment complex—purely because he insisted on it. His parents, Mila, Dominic, Elle, and Helena were all waiting inside his apartment. It seemed that his mother had broken in and then welcomed the others inside.
Helena healed him while Valentina served black tea and pastries—most of which his uncles demolished. Alex barely said anything, leaving the telling of the tale to others, but he spat out a foul curse when he heard about the GPS tracking app on her cell phone.
Bree truly felt bad for Vinnie and James, who were distraught to hear their sister was involved in the plot against Bree. Mila and Alex were obviously also hurt, but it hit the brothers exceptionally hard.
Alex never broke physical contact with Bree at any point. He was either holding her hand, palming her nape, resting a hand on her thigh, or curling his arm around her.
She caught him staring at her a few times, as if he was worried that she’d disappear if he took his eyes off her. But when she’d smile and ask if he was okay, he’d just gruffly tell her to shut up. That lost its humor when he was still doing it later as they showered.
Stepped onto the mat, she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself. “Do you think you could stop brooding? It’s gone on long enough.”
He stilled, and his eyes blazed. And then came the explosion she’d been waiting for.
“It’s gone on long enough? You were drugged! Taken! Gagged! Tied the fuck up! Had a gun put to your head twice! And then—”
“You came,” she finished, her voice soothing. “Now I’m here. With you. Safe and alive, because of you. So could you please stop yelling and telling me to shut up all the time? Really, it’s a good thing I love you.”
The bluster left him in a rush. “You love me?”
“Now who’s the one asking stupid questions?”
He drove both hands into her hair, boring his gaze into hers. “You love me?”
She sighed. “Yes, idiot.”
He held her tight again, tucking his face into the crook of her neck. “Fuck, I love you.” It was a gruff whisper, but she heard it. “Say it again,” he all but ordered.
“Why?”
He lifted his head and snared her gaze with his own. “Do it.”
“Fine. I love you.”
Growling, he swooped down and claimed her mouth. Consumed, ravished, and possessed it. She soon found herself flat on the rug, and then he was balls-deep inside her. He fucked her hard and slow, staring into her eyes the entire time. It wasn’t long before she came with a choked cry, tightening her legs around him. He exploded deep inside her with a snarl of her name, his cock throbbing and pulsing. Then he collapsed on top of her.
He was heavy as hell, but she didn’t complain. She just stroked his back as they lay there, shaking and panting. Every heavy breath he let out fanned her neck.
“You can’t ever leave me, Bree.” It was a gruff whisper.
She curled her arms around him and squeezed. “I won’t. You can’t ever leave me.”
He lifted his head and met her gaze. “That would never happen. Never.”
“Good. Glad that’s settled.” She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her soft and slow and languid, melting her bones. Damn but the guy could kiss.
Sliding an arm under her back, he kept her tight against him as he stood. “Bed.”
She looped her limbs around him. “Bed.”
Pain sliced through Alex’s head and stabbed his chest, yanking him out of sleep. He knifed up, but the hurt was already fading. He forgot all about the pain, because he realized the imprint bond had fully formed.
Stunned, he looked down at his mate, who was wide awake and just as mystified—something he felt through their bond. “What happened?” he asked, his heart thudding. “Not that I’m complaining that we’re now fully mated. I’m just wondering what prompted it.”
“Well, I was thinking …”
He lay down and rolled onto his side to face her. “Thinking what?”
“I had a fucked-up dream that Paxton shot you. It woke me up. And I was lying here, thinking about all that happened, letting it sink in that he was gone and wasn’t ever coming back; that he couldn’t taint my life anymore; that, most importantly, you’re safe now.”
