Page 49 of Branded

“Not here.” He tugs me toward the hallway, through the palace, out a side door I haven’t seen before. We emerge into the late afternoon heat, the formal gardens spreading before us, and he doesn’t stop until we’re far enough from the house that no one can hear us.

“Sebastian, you’re hurting me.”

He releases my wrist but immediately cages me against the garden wall, his arms braced on either side of my head. His face is inches from mine, and I can see fury burning in his dark eyes.

“Dad wants to ride onto Marshall land with every ranch hand we have and search for our cattle ourselves. Consequences be damned.” Sebastian’s hand comes up to my throat, not squeezing, just holding. Claiming. “And Nathaniel agrees with him. Caroline agrees. Even James agrees, and he never agrees with Dad on anything.”

My mind reels, and nothing about this makes sense. “But that’s exactly what they want,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite his hand on my throat. “They’re baiting you into doing something illegal.”

“I know what they’re doing!” His grip tightens slightly. “I know it’s a trap. I know we should be smart about this. But do you know what it’s like to sit in that dining room and tell all those men that we can’t protect our own property because we’re afraid we might get sued?”

“Sebastian.”

“They’re calling me soft. Saying California made me weak. That I’ve forgotten what it means to be a Drake.” His face is so close I can feel his breath. “Dad actually said that having you here makes me think too much instead of acting.”

The accusation stings even though it isn’t true. He knows it’s better not to ride in there guns blazing, but pride and money are all a man like Sebastian has, and his pride has just been called out.

“You made decisions that hurt them, now they’re making decisions that hurt you. Tit for tat, Sebastian. He basically told you that the other day.”

He releases my throat and steps back, running both hands through his hair. “This is Texas, Lennox. Not Montana, not California. Out here, you protect what’s yours, or you lose it. Legal channels take months, or years. By then, the Marshalls will have stolen everything that isn’t nailed down.”

“So what are you going to do?”

His smile is cold, dangerous. “We’re riding onto Marshall land tonight. Finding our cattle. Taking back what’s ours.”

“That’s exactly what he wants.”

“I don’t care.” He moves back into my space, his body pinning me against the wall. His mouth crashes into mine, brutal and selfish, like he’s taking every ounce of life from me to propel him through what he is about to do. When he pulls back, his eyes are black with fury and need.

“And you’re coming with us,” he says.

“What?”

“You want to see the real me? What we really do here? The parts that don’t get discussed in legal briefs and proper channels?” He slides his hand down my body, rough and claiming. “Tonight you’ll see exactly what it means to be married to a Drake. What we do when someone threatens what’s ours.”

“Sebastian, this is insane,” I whisper.

“This is reality.” He grabs my hand and starts pulling me back toward the house. “Change into dark clothes. Boots, jeans, something you can ride in. We leave in two hours.”

“I’m not going on a cattle raid,” I say firmly, trying to stop myself from moving by digging my heels into the ground.

He spins back, and the look in his eyes makes my breath catch in my throat. This isn’t the man who kissed me gently under oak trees last week, or the husband who has introduced me to his family ranch with pride. This is the man who bought me at auction. The predator who fucked me into submission. The monster I almost forgot he is.

“You’re my wife,” he says quietly. “Which means you go where I go. Do what I say. And tonight, I say you’re coming with us to get our cattle back. Understand?”

I should say no. Should fight him. Should remind him that I’m not his property to command. But his hand is on my throat again, and I can see the dangerous ledge he is walking. Push him now, in this state, and I’m not sure what he would do.

“Understood,” I whisper.

“Good.” He releases me and continues toward the house. “Two hours, Lennox. Be ready.”

I stand in the pasture between the houses, my heart pounding, my throat throbbing where his hand had been, and watch him disappear back into the palace.

The soft version of Sebastian is gone.

And I have no idea if he’s ever coming back.

Seven hundred and eighteen days left attached to this man, and I’m not sure I’ll survive even one more night.