Caught Beast Mate(42)
“She is up to something,” Hasel said. “What is it, girl?”
Placing the dough on the tray, I shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Hasel gripped my wrist.
We locked gazes.
“She is not your mother. They’re not your friends, and they don’t care about you.”
I tugged my wrist, but Hasel held firm. “They’re not my enemies either,” I said.
“Are we your enemies?”
I tugged, and she released me.
“The party’s at eight,” Hasel said.
Chapter Nineteen
Sienna
Torrent didn’t wear a suit. Or even jeans. He’d cleaned up, shaved his head again, but not the beard. He’d combed and rebraided it tightly. In his black kilt and armed with a pair of knives, he leaned on the door. Though Hasel had found some crutches for him, once he leaned on them, they broke. In the afternoon, he worked in the shed. He’d reinforced his wooden cane with a large steel pipe. It would hold him better. Clean and wearing a kilt, he looked…deadly. Okay, and maybe handsome. In a brutal way. I’m your monster.
“I’m running late,” I said.
“They’ll wait.”
I glanced at the white sundress laid out on the bed for me. It was plain, kind of like me. I slipped it on. “They say you’re not supposed to see me while I get ready for the party.”
“True.”
“They say it’s bad luck.”
“Our bad luck streak is over.”
“You think so?”
“Mm-hm.” His eyes paled, and I felt as if he’d peeled the dress off me. “You’re beautiful.”
I cleared my throat. “Thank you. You clean up nice.”
“I got you something.”
I bit my lip. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“I have you, and that’s everything I need.”
“Swoon.”
Torrent smirked. “You’re a tough cookie.” He walked to stand in front of me, and his cologne or perhaps a strong masculine oil surrounded me.
“You smell good. What is it?”
“Used something from Mayhem’s collection. I swear that pretty boy’s got more fancy shit than a girl.”
I chuckled. “He must shave every single day too. No hair at all on that one. Spends an hour in the bathroom looking pretty. He has this special brush for his blond mane. Nobody is allowed to touch it.”
“That’s good to know. I’ll use it.”
“He hoards jewelry.” I’d seen the pile, sometimes ventured to check out the pieces.
“I picked out something for you from the pile.”
“You mean you stole something for me.”
“I’ll pay him for it.”
“It’s Reagan’s stuff now.”
“It’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s in a bag. He labeled it ‘For sale.’” Torrent took my hand and dropped a leather pouch in my palm.
I fisted my dress with the other hand. “What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
My palms begun sweating, and my heart raced. It seemed I was getting married. It just dawned on me. Mating and marriage were basically the same thing, but it hadn’t hit me until now. A white dress, my hair braided tightly, and a small white flower stuck behind my ear all signaled a bride. I wore lip gloss. Peach flavor. Hasel insisted I make myself pretty for Torrent, and I followed along.
I was getting married.
There was nobody to walk me down the aisle.
“I can’t marry you, Torrent.” I thrust the pouch at his chest. “Take it back.”
He took it and sighed. “You’re not marrying me. We are mated. The party is a reason for Hasel to cook for everyone. It’s what she’s used to doing. Filling beasts’ bellies and making them happy. I didn’t ask for the party, but I can’t refuse her.”
“My dad would want to be here.”
“I understand. But he’s not here, and the party is happening. We can’t bail out.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s impolite.”
“Since when do you care?”
“Since you. I want to be a better male for you, and I’ll start with making old ladies feel like they’ve done something right. We breed under her roof, and she’s proud to have united a mated pair. It’s a big deal.”
“I think I want a drink,” I said. “Alcohol. Reagan drinks whiskey to loosen up. I want whiskey. Is there whiskey around here?”
“I’m sure there’s plenty at the party.” He twisted and glanced at the wall clock. “Which started forty-five minutes ago.”
“I think I want to be sick.”