Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LOCH
Sitting behind her desk, Mom’s silent glare slides from each son to the next, surveying the damage on some faces, and the smirks on those happy they’re not in trouble.
Reminds me of when we were little.
If Mom busted us fighting, she’d make us sit on the front porch and hold hands with our enemy for the longest fucking hour of our lives.
Now, we’re stuffed like sardines on velvet sofas with manly inked hands, but I wouldn’t put it past her to insist on another round of sweaty palm sandwiches.
Clocking my busted eyebrow, Axel’s fat lip, and Nash’s broken nose, she warns, “I’m fixin’ to lose my religion with you boys.”
“It’s fine, Mom.” I fall on the sword. “I started it. I love Alena, and Nash has given us his blessing.”
Nash seethes, “The fact you’re not dead is not my blessing. It’s procrastination.”
Grant chuckles. “The things we do for pussy.”
“Not helping.” Sire side-mouths.
But Mom jumps past our bullshit. “Nash, what does Loch need to do to make this right?”
“Join a monastery. Become a eunuch.” Grant won’t fucking stop, so I stomp on his foot. “Ouch, asshole,” he hisses. “Don’t poke the princess’s pussy if you can’t take the punishment.”
“I’ve got a bullet for the next man who mentions my daughter.” Nash is boiling.
“Yeah, and I’ve got a bomb,” Mom counters. “My grandgirl was crying all night, worried about her father punching her lover.”
“God, Mom.” Axel rolls his eyes. “Don’t say ‘lover.’”
“I don’t care what y’all call it.” Mom weaves her neck. “Netflix and chill, churning her butter, eating Southern sushi, makin’ mattress music. What’ll it be?”
Sire coughs, Grant snorts, Jace bites his fist, Nick studies the ceiling, and Axel twists his bearded lips. Mom has a way with words. Laugh at them, and they become deadly weapons.
“That’s what I thought.” She nods at our silence. “Now, cowboy up and fix this shit. Good men don’t make a woman cry.”
I wince, imagining Alena crying all night, hating this for her. So does Nash. He swallows, yielding. “Loch can marry her.”
“He will marry her.” Axel double-downs. “Now.”
Mom arches a brow. “Does someone care to ask Alena what she wants, or shall we just dust off the golden key to her chastity belt and call it done?”
Fucking Grant and Sire choke on their chuckles. It’s only funny to them because they’re not in Mom’s line of fire.
“Give them time.” Jace quells their humor, helping me fight for my love. “Sometimes you need patience.” Sounds like he’s fighting for his too.
“Loch’s known her his whole life,” Axel debates. “And he knows better. He knew what he was doing, making her fall in love with him. Fuck patience: he’ll pay the price.”
“Don’t act like loving Alena is my punishment,” I bark back. “It’s my honor to love her.”
“If you really loved her, you’d walk away,” Nash scolds. “You’d think about her safety first. She’s been a target her whole life, remember?”
The kidnapping attempt.
I remember while Grant reminds us, “We still don’t know who that was.”
“Who gives a fuck?” Nash is fuming. “He came after my daughter. My baby. You all will see what it’s like when you have kids. It’s not rational. It’s your instinct to protect them.”
Sire coughs, but Nash keeps going. “Every threat is serious. And now, Alena’s not only a target as my daughter, she’ll also be one as Loch’s wife. That’s two contracts on her head.”
Nick shakes his head, confused. “But you know Loch will protect her more than anyone. He’s trained, and he loves her.”
“Yes, we face threats,” Sire interjects. “So why are you saying Loch can marry her if you think he’s a risk to her?”
Nash points at me. “Because I’ll kill him if he breaks her heart.”
I shake my head. “Your lie will break her heart, not my love.”
“We don’t lie; we live,” Axel litigates. “It’s how we’ve survived this long. So, you’ll marry Alena next month, and we’ll hire more protection for her.”
Nash nods. “You’ll put a ring on her finger the next time you see her.”
I glance at Mom, and given all her might, she’s wise. She doesn’t micro-manage. She lets us be men and doesn’t say a word, knowing this is my love, my marriage, my future with Alena.
No one else’s.
And all I can see are her sparkling chestnut eyes when I rub her feet every night. When I tell her she’s beautiful, and she’s finally starting to believe me.
“No.” I stand up, not able to breathe. Not just from broken ribs, but with a heart breaking for Alena.
From losing her mom, then her self-esteem, to that bully who tried to take her dignity.
She’s fought to get it back, and I want to give her more.
“I’ll ask Alena to marry me when the time is right. ”
Nash sucks his teeth. “Tomorrow.”
“No.” I don’t back down. “Alena’s never had a boyfriend and deserves the best one. So, I’ll take my time. I’ll give her every greeting card moment and holiday dream, like one of those romance novels, and make her swoon and shit. I’ll hold her hand in the mall while she shops for a purse, and—”
“Alena hates purses.” Axel has to debate me.
“You know what I fucking mean.” I snap at him, tired of following orders. “She’s my bae, and I’m her boo, and it ain’t got shit to do with you.”
“Aw, man, that’s poetry.” Grant beams. “Delphine would be so proud.”
“You know what he means,” Sire echoes me. “Let him take his time with Alena.”
“You’ll use my ring.” Mom turns our heads her way. A dusty black velvet ring box sits on her desk. Where she hid it; don’t ask me. “I understand you bought her one yesterday?”
Sneeze in this town and my mom finds out. I should’ve known better.
“Yes, my Queen,” I answer with reverence because I know what’s in that box. We all do. “I wanted Nash to know my intentions. I won’t break Alena’s heart. I will ask her to marry me, but I want to romance her first.”
Mom nods. “As every queen deserves. And when you’re ready, she deserves the right ring, the ring that saved our lives.”
“My queen, you… You…” Nash blinks, stammering. I see where Alena gets it. “You don’t have to. I mean, I’m honored but—”
“But you’re my son too,” Mom reminds him. “And Alena’s mother was the closest I’ve had to a daughter, and Alena is my first grandchild. I want her to wear it.”
“Mom.” I swallow. “That was Maxim’s ring. Are you sure?”
It’s a rare, five-carat, demantoid garnet.
Often mistaken for deep green emeralds, they’re rarer.
More vivid and mined in Russia. A favorite gem of the Czars, Mom’s ancestors.
Hers is antique, set on a gold band, and surrounded by tiny yellow diamonds.
Maxim gave it to her, and she hid it when we escaped, sewn into the hem of her skirt.
“Maxim was a true king.” Mom blinks back tears. “Royal by decree and demeanor. Even on my darkest days, bruised and bloodied, he loved me like a queen.”
Gently, Sire reminds her, “But that ring is all you have left of him, our Queen.”
Solemnly, Mom looks at me. “No, it’s not.”
Like a lightning strike, I feel it in my veins. “Are you saying I’m Maxim’s son?”
“I’m saying,” Mom answers me, “that is the providence of women. Of women alone, and Maxim respected it. Regardless, he loved me as I have raised you all to love your queens. Unquestioning. Unflinching. Undying.”
“I’m honored, my Queen,” Nash speaks, his voice choked with the emotion in the room. “It’s all I can wish for Alena, for a man like Maxim to love her.”
“Loch is.” Axel shocks me, defending me. “Loch’s honorable like our father. Our true father.”
Maxim.
Not Ruslan.
We know it. We feel it. One father may haunt our minds, but another lives in our hearts.
I swallow the lump in my throat, honored by the kings in the room. For the first time, I feel like one too.
If I am Maxim’s son, I’m not sure. But I will love like him.
“Unquestioning. Unflinching. Undying.” I turn to Nash, vowing, “That is how I will love Alena.”