Chapter 10 - Jasper
Only seconds ago, I was asleep. Now, I’m on top of her, fighting my deepest instincts. I’m not even sure how we got here, and I’d like to think the reason I have her pinned down like this, arms above her head, is because somewhere inside me I thought I was eliminating a threat.
Maybe I’m still in fight mode.
But my hard dick tells me otherwise.
I rake my gaze over Tara’s body, mapping the curve of her breasts beneath her tee. A sliver of her stomach is showing where her t-shirt has risen, and my wolf notices it, but I keep my eyes fixed on her face.
She looks flushed, her cheeks colored a light red, her hazel eyes wide, and her lips ever so slightly swollen.
I remember how she felt beneath me all that time ago, how the softness of her body yielded to me perfectly.
It would be so easy to touch her like that again, if I just lowered my hands or my face…
“How did you sleep?” She asks me, between breaths. Her chest is rising and falling at a rapid rate.
I worry that if I open my mouth, I’ll do more than just talk.
The taste of her still lingers on my tongue, as though it were only moments ago that I was exploring her body.
“I slept fine,” I say. “How about you?”
I can see by the way she’s looking at me that she’s holding something back. Or maybe I’m imagining it because fuck, I want her so badly.
My wolf is raging, desperate to bring my lips just that little bit lower.
It’s like my dick is going to burst through my pants. I’ve never been this hard and not done anything about it.
“Fine,” she says.
The silence feels dangerous, like something’s about to break.
I can hear her every micro-movement down to the way she’s swallowing. I’m too aware of her breath.
But I can’t do this.
I release her arms from beneath me and roll down by her side. I gaze up at the ceiling.
We have an arrangement that is crucial to the well-being of my pack—I don’t want to do anything that might ruin that.
The silence wraps around us, tension heavy in the air. It’s electric.
I clear my throat.
“So, we have a big week ahead of us,” I say.
Our shoulders are still touching—not helping the situation, but it’s even more difficult not to touch. I don’t dare look, but I can also still hear how she’s feeling.
I can smell her pheromones.
“We do?” She stutters.
I’m hard. Why the fuck am I still hard?
“Yeah,” I mutter, clearing my throat and thinking about everything that we have to prepare ahead of the wedding. I have to get her properly acquainted with the pack, too—me leaving like that as soon as she arrived definitely wasn’t the best start to things, but then again, what would have been?
She seems anxious, not overly anxious, but then again, it’s Tara, so who knows what she’s actually feeling.
I edge away ever so slightly so that we’re not touching anymore.
“Well, it’ll be the week of the wedding, and there’s a lot of crap to organize, unfortunately.”
“Oh,” she murmurs, getting up and walking toward the window. “There is? I thought since it’s not, you know, proper, we could just do some quick ceremony to get it over and done with?”
While my wolf is like an angry little child not getting its way, I’m personally relieved she stepped away. It gives me a chance to cool down.
And her reaction to our wedding plans makes things super clear if they weren’t already.
“Yeah,” I respond. “I’d like that too, obviously, but for all intents and purposes, this is the real deal, and we’ll have to do everything the official way.”
“Hmm,” she sighs.
A sneak glance at her silhouette, shadowed by the sunlight streaming in through the window. For the most part, my body has calmed down.
“Well,” she says. “I guess we can do the bare minimum, whatever that looks like in the shifter marriage world.”
“Yep.”
“And we’ll have to kiss again?”
“Yes, but subtly, just to seal the deal, so to speak.”
She’s still not looking at me; instead, she’s gazing out at our pack lands—clearly amused by something. Well, either that, or she’s ashamed by the way her body reacted to me on top of her earlier.
The latter seems more likely.
“Okay,” she sighs.
“Yeah, and I’ll make sure that everything is sorted in terms of plans, dresses, etc. I have shifters who can help me with all that. It is short notice, but I’ve seen them pull more important things together before.”
“Well,” Tara says. “I mean, this is their Alpha’s wedding. Should it really be this week? Especially with everything going on with the forest and the monsters…”
She’s right, it is rushed, and with the dead shifter we found in the forest, it certainly isn’t the best of times.
But there’s not much I can do about that; we have to move forward.
The earlier this is done, the better. Both of us, I can tell, are already regretting everything. I don’t want to give us room to go back.
“Timing isn’t ideal,” I tell her, gazing back up at the ceiling. “But the faster we get this done, the better everything will be. Trust me.”
She exhales slowly, as though she’s holding back from saying something.
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Okay.”
While I’m not looking at her directly, after a few moments, I notice her leave the room.
That was too close; next time, I’ll keep a tighter rein on things.
***
I have to give it to my packmates—the way they’ve decorated the place looks amazing. And on such a tight schedule? They’ve honestly outdone themselves.
I’m not usually into all that sort of aesthetic, flowery type stuff, but the outdoor events area of our pack has been transformed into a mystical wonderland. Quite literally.
There are vines and flowers twisted and scattered over everything. I’m talking tables, chairs, arches, carpets, plates?!
Upon closer inspection, I realize that the plates have just been painted with floral decor, but still, kudos to them for making everything match.
It’s sunset, and the lighting spreads a balmy pink hue over the tablecloth and everyone’s busy faces. Slow music drifts through the air out from the band’s soft-sounding instruments. Chatter is at a steady pace, neither overly excited nor overly hostile—just calm.
At least not from what I can hear.
Maybe the shifters and witches are pretending, maybe they’re almost as uncomfortable as I’m feeling, but are putting on a good show.
I don’t know.
It’s hard to understand how any of them can be so calm when an Alpha shifter is marrying some random human, so out of the blue like this.
I know my pack is freaking out, but I also know that they wouldn’t let anyone know it. Especially not since it is their Alpha who is doing the marrying.
“This place looks incredible,” Dylan says, dropping a spicy cocktail sausage into his mouth.
“It does. It came together fast.”
“And it looks like everyone is getting along.”
Shifters and witches are mixing freely, members of my pack are joining in too—you’d have no idea that we have a century’s worth of tension.
But hey, I’m happy to be civil and play along.
Why couldn’t that have just been enough for the coven? No need for a wedding, no need for any of this, I could have just stayed focused on the real problems at hand.
Like those shadow monsters.
“Of course,” Dylan says. “I have a feeling this is going to be fun.”
Hmm. Fun isn’t the exact word that I’d use.
Bearable—maybe.
Ellis and Sawyer appear out of nowhere with smug looks painted across their faces. I haven’t had much time to talk to them, actually, I’ve been avoiding it.
I know exactly what they’re going to say.
“Well,” Ellis breathes. “Out of all of us, I have to say I didn’t think it would be you to have the most controversial wedding of all.”
Sawyer chuckles. “You’ve outdone us with a human, man, you really have.”
I shrug.
It’s not fun lying—not to those who know me so well. It sucks that I have to do it, but I keep reminding myself what it’s for.
“Crazy things happen when you’re in love, I suppose.”
Crazy things have been happening. Like that morning when I woke up with Tara beneath me. A little less crazy would definitely be nice.
“Nah, we are happy for you, man,” Ellis beams. “It’s good for us to have some good news around here.”
Sawyer nods as he sips his beer. “You can say that again.”
And I’m happy to provide, I am. Doesn’t matter if it's not real.
As soon as I’m at the podium, for some reason, I get a little… unsettled. The music quietens, all guests take their flower-covered seats, and I know that we’re expecting Tara.
Suddenly, I don’t know what to do with my hands. I’m not sure where to look. The whole thing almost feels real.
Then she appears.
The first thing I notice is her cheekbones—sharp, like twin knives beneath the dark braid coiled on top of her head.
The rest of her hair flows down her back like a waterfall. Her eyelids have been painted a sparkling pale green that matches the flowers on her cream dress.
I pretend not to notice the way the satin reveals her curves, or the way that the light makes her eyes shine like two precious stones.
She’s beautiful. I know she’s beautiful, everyone else knows she’s gorgeous—heck, she should know it too, although I’m not sure.
Whatever, there’s nothing I can do about that. It’s inconvenient, yes, but not fatal. I can just ignore it.
But then she looks me in the eye as she walks, it’s just one look before she gazes away, but every part of me tenses. My dick included.
It’s primal. Not something that I can even think about controlling.
Tara smells like honey as she stands next to me, her subtly curvy body on full display.
She doesn’t look at me, though, and I pretend not to look at her.
I pretend to listen to what our elder is saying.
“Jasper, take this ribbon and tie it around Tara’s wrist.”
I register the command just in time. I remember that this is a performance for my pack, I’m supposed to be putting on a show.
As I follow the instructions accordingly, I can tell that Tara feels extremely uncomfortable. She only looks at me for a couple of seconds at a time.
It’s strange to see her like this, so vulnerable. Some part of me wants to protect her, but I don’t know what from.
“Now you may kiss,” the elder says.
The place is dead-quiet; there isn’t even a gust of wind or the sound of birds. Just me and her.
She turns to face me, with vulnerable eyes and slightly open lips. Those lips.
I remember how they tasted, and here I am, willingly letting myself be corrupted again.
It’s for the pack.
I place my arms around her waist and carefully edge her closer to me.
For the pack.
Then I close my eyes and lower my lips to hers.
As her wet mouth meets mine, and I taste one inch of her sweet nectar, I go fucking insane. Something wakes up inside me, and I pry her lips open with my tongue.
I pull her closer.
My mouth massages hers as I take the kiss deeper. She feels so unbelievably good.
Her arms hang over my shoulders, and suddenly, very quietly, very subtly, I hear her groan. That sweet groan—I’d recognize it anywhere.
Oh my God, I want her.
She kisses me back, and I almost let myself slip into oblivion before I stop.
This is not for my wolf—this is for the pack.
Tara’s lashes lift along with her glittery lids. Those hazel eyes are wearier now, marked once again by me.
***
I have my arm around Tara’s waist, where we agreed it could be. But still, for my wolf, even this is too much.
I can feel her warmth beneath the thin satin fabric that barely covers her curves. Just touching her, I’m thinking about ripping everything off and taking her from behind.
But instead, I’m supposed to be talking to a couple of coven witches about the first time my fake wife and I met.
“Tara is better at telling the story,” I say with a polite smile.
“Oh no,” Tara chimes in, “I don’t think my memory is as good as yours.”
Ultimately, deciding what to say when asked about how we met is something that we should have discussed.
Of all the things we ran through ahead of the wedding, surely this should have been one of the most important?
I think we both didn’t want to discuss that night. But now, without a clear alibi, the truth feels like the only option.
“She just likes it when I talk about it,” I laugh. “We met at a bar, you know, The Howling Smoke nearby? I saw her and I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
Tara tenses; she edges away from me a little.
“Oh, that’s so cute!” One of the witches says, “So it was love at first sight?”
She’s looking at Tara now, who I can sense hates this conversation even more than I do.
“Well,” Tara murmurs. “Yes, I suppose it was.”
What did she think when she first saw me?
Not important.
“We wish you both a lifetime of happiness!”
I smile. “Thank you both.”
The rest of the night runs smoothly, but I can’t enjoy it because I’m constantly thinking about logistics.
What will be too much PDA? What isn’t enough?
How many times does a normal newly couple hold one another? How many times do they dance alone?
I try to think back to other weddings I’ve been to, and mimic accordingly.
It seems to be going well.
“You think they believe us?” Tara whispers in my ear.
“I think they’re more concerned with the party than us.”
We gaze out at the mixture of sweaty bodies, gyrating to music that has become more upbeat now that the sun has gone down.
Ellis has his arms wrapped over Danielle, and Sawyer is kissing Lacey’s neck.
I turn to Tara, who looks down and smooths out her dress.
“Maybe let’s get some cake,” she says.
“Good idea.”
“Yeah,” she nods, walking ahead. “Okay.”
As the party ends, Penelope, whom I’ve been successfully avoiding all night, catches me alone.
“Penelope,” I smile, raising my glass of champagne. “Good to finally see you.”
She nods.
At first, it feels like she’s about to catch me out. Like, somehow, she knows.
But then she smiles too.
“I’m really happy for you both. You seem like such a wonderful couple.”
“Thank you. I couldn’t be happier with Tara,” I respond, watching her move gracefully through the party with her friends. “She’s my world.”
Penelope surprises me with a hug before heading off.
I’m happy that all this has worked. But why do I feel so guilty, then?