Chapter 42
forty-two
brIAR
A low hum keeps me drifting between dreams and reality.
I feel it under my cheek and echoing in my chest. Something light and buzzy.
Is it a purr?
Am I purring?
That would make sense, given how boneless my body is. Not to mention the murmur of masculine voices and the solid girth anchored inside me.
A knot.
Oh.
My.
God.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to instantly whine. Flail. Try to scramble away or get closer or—or—
One of my eyelids cracks open slowly. A bolt of pure bewilderment strikes my gullet.
How—where—what the—?
I fight the urge to let my gaze fly wide, allowing my peripheral vision to fill in my surroundings. A steady pulse thumps in my ears, quickening while I take in the small, perfect room.
It’s… enchanted. A rounded hexagon with dark emerald posts in every corner and glass walls stretched between. Unlike the stained panes in every other room, these are crystal clear. All the better to display the gorgeous greenery twined over and around the entire room.
Roses, I realize. The same ones that grow on my balcony, snow white and blood red. All blowing in the storm’s leftover breeze.
Oh. Right. We were outside.
For a moment, I wonder if we might still be in the gazebo. But, no. We’re up high, level with the black-velvet sky.
There are only two rooms upstairs I haven’t been in before, and this definitely isn’t Cillian’s office. Which means…
It’s the nest.
This must be a dream. Clearly, my first real heat-spike sent my subconscious into a tailspin. And now I’m projecting all my silly omega fantasies onto whatever room they shoved me into.
I blink but nothing disappears. The gold foil brushed at the seams of the green metal frame, the deep rouge comforter, the silky cream sheets covering the round, recessed mattress… A few dozen black, flameless candles, clustered artfully around the floor… The scent of—
Cloves.
And oak.
I can smell them. Both warm essences sparkle in my lungs, sprinkling bliss through my abdomen. Or perhaps that’s the large, solid hand stroking the back of my head.
Because—right—I’m still tied to this alpha.
My alpha.
The one I’m going to murder… once I decide it’s safe for him to know I’m awake.
I might not be the only one contemplating homicide. Dane’s woodsy musk smolders ominously; I can’t see him, but I feel his body pressed into my backside, his powerful chest rattling as he growls under his breath.
“—don’t fucking care,” he snarls, barely above a whisper. “You should have told us.”
The flawless expanse of tan skin and muscle beneath me deflates on a sigh. “It was a risk either way,” he says, even. “But this way kept her safer.”
“Lying to her? To all of us? Jesus, Cillian! Who does know? Her father?”
The mention of my father nearly makes me twitch. I realize, belatedly, that he didn’t show up tonight, the way I expected. Which makes more sense a second later, as Cillian curses under his breath.
“That fucking piece of shit,” he spits. “He knows nothing. No one does.”
I practically hear Dane thinking. Crunching all of this insane information behind his furrowed brow. “So, all of this? The patent? Your grandfather’s race for an heir?”
“Smokescreens,” Cillian replies. “I bought the patent so I could marry Briar without raising any eyebrows. I didn’t want anyone asking where I suddenly got the notion to choose her. If she came as a bonus to the technology we claimed to want…”
Dane finishes the thought. “… and if she seemed like a convenient way to fulfill your family’s need for an heir… no one would ask questions.”
“Yes,” the pack leader admits. “I’m not even sure that patent is worth anything. It’s been tied up in research and development since we procured it, but all the results are inconclusive. It doesn’t matter, though. The only thing that matters is—”
“Her,” Dane concludes, hoarse.
There’s a tense pause before Cillian sighs, his chest rising and falling beneath me as his voice drops into more casual camaraderie. It reminds me what Dane shared about how they’ve been friends their whole lives—for the first time since I moved in, I hear that history in the pack leader’s tone.
“Look, I know you probably hate me,” he mumbles.
“I would fucking hate me, too, if I were you. But every additional person who knew she was our mate constituted a greater risk. If I’d been upfront with all of you right away, it only would have been a matter of time before the staff knew.
And our security. A well-placed bribe or threat is all it would have taken for an enemy to find out—or Gideon.
And I couldn’t risk that. Not with her. I needed our whole pack to seem as indifferent to each other as humanly possible. Especially toward Briar.”
That explains a lot.
Keeping me cooped up, literally locked inside the manor… because the second I walked outside with them, the neutralizers wouldn’t work. And anyone around would have witnessed what happened when I stepped into the garden—my Omega melting down. Throwing me into the deep end.
It also accounts for why Cillian practically sealed my balcony from the outside air with the thicket of rose vines—and possibly even why my Omega preferred to sit out there anyway.
Other memories flicker through my mind. The way my husband’s eyes seethed every time our gazes met. Why he had to have me in the first place. Whatever insane price he paid my father.
And tonight.
The second I got near the back doors, I felt funny. Cillian, Rhys, Dane… none of them could stop glancing over at me when the wind swept in. Did their Alphas already sense the faintest threads of my real scent?
If it was that easy to tip them off, of course Cillian had to host the party here, where I could be seen without ever setting foot outdoors.
It was also strategic, I imagine. A way to let everyone think they were getting the world’s dullest glimpse inside our pack.
They all left disappointed, I’m sure. Nothing to see here. Just a pissy omega and three alphas who barely deign to glance at her.
We all played our parts perfectly. Effortlessly.
Of course. Because we didn’t know the truth and we couldn’t sense each other.
Cillian was the only one who knew, so he was the only one who had to pretend. The rest of us believed the lie as much as any of our guests.
“Now all of polite society thinks Briar means nothing to us,” Cillian confirms. “We bought some time to figure this out.” His fingers tense against my scalp. “If she’ll have us.”
God. It’s… sick. And so brilliant.
Louis’s whispered warning plays through my memory for the second time this evening. If you think you know him, I promise you do not. And if you think you can outsmart him, then you are nowhere near smart enough.
I thought these men underestimated me.
But maybe, in my husband’s case, I had it all backwards.
Because his plan worked.
I’m here. His wife. Knotted with him in a gorgeous nest… while his rivals think our marriage is a painful charade. A way to get them their heir. Making me meaningless.
Which means I’m also safe.
Dane grumbles his understanding with a begrudging sigh before pointing out the one fatal flaw in the plan. “You damn near killed Rhys. I don’t know how the kid will recover from this. She’s all he’s ever wanted. And now he’s hurt her.”
All he’s ever wanted? Venom?! The alpha who currently can’t be bothered to stay here with us as we work through this tangled web of thorns?
Spiced smokiness darkens around me. “I know,” Cillian replies, the words nearly rasping.
“And I know you both would have done everything you could to keep her safe, if I’d told you, but…
You would have had to lie to her every day.
I didn’t want that for you. Or her. Because if she wakes up and decides she hates me, I need her to have someone she can still trust.”
The words drip pure sincerity. The kind of concerned fervor you just can’t fake—not even an accomplished actor like Cillian Blackwood.
My monstrous husband… who truly did all of this to keep me safe?
No, goddamn it, my heart is not fluttering right now.
Get a grip, I coach internally. Just because the man had good reasons for acting like a beast doesn’t mean we can trust him.
It feels like I can, though.
How he’s holding me. The fact that his purr hasn’t stuttered once. His knot, still so full and firm inside me.
He offered it without hesitation. And the way he talked me through taking it…
Oh God. I am so screwed.
“I still don’t understand how the hell you tricked us,” Dane grunts. “Especially me.”
Right, because the big man is trained to notice everything. Eliminate all threats. Even, perhaps, innocent people.
Their pack alpha doesn’t have a shred of remorse as he replies, chuckling. “You haven’t lost your edge. You were the hardest one to fool, actually. I’ve been slowly titrating neutralizer into the house for a year. Adjusting it by increments so it wouldn’t tip you off.”
Of course. If he wanted to keep our mate status a secret, he had to desensitize Dane to the dulled scents in here over time. Rhys had lost his ability to smell others, so he wouldn’t have noticed, but my big man?
Cillian knew he would instantly catch on if all their essences evaporated overnight. So he played the long game.
For a year?
“I swore I could smell all of you, though,” Dane argues. “I kept trying because she made my Alpha insane. I’m pretty damn sure I started falling in love with her the moment I saw her.”
Okay, okay. So my heart is fluttering, but it definitely isn’t melting…
I hear Cillian’s smirk when he speaks next.
“All our scents were fake from the day she got here. That’s why I’ve had Louis switch the soaps out every week.
I had more artificially scented neutralizer custom-made, to put in everyone’s body wash and on everyone’s clothes. Including her wedding dress.”
The damn dress. That thing arrived at my father’s house months ago.