How to Tame a Werewolf: Seven Brides for Seven Shifters, Book 3 (17 page)

How could she argue with that? Was she going to say the reason he’d still been single when they met was because of Lennox’s choice, not his? No, she’d loved him too much to hurt him that way.

“Fine,” Rue said out loud. But she wanted her wedding: the dress, the ring, the family celebration, the entire daydream. Lennox had left him at the altar. Rue had stayed by his side. She and he both deserved the full fairytale and he was denying it to her because of another woman. He might’ve gotten over his love for Lennox but he hadn’t gotten past what she’d done to him. Why didn’t Ian see that?

Rue decided she’d have to show him. Then she’d change his mind.

* * * * *

Outside, on the service road, the first arrivers for the Midnight Rum Movie Marathon honked their horns to announce themselves. The fall season produced an early sunset and Ian had taken advantage of it to start their outdoor party early. The pack and their extended friends were punctual; 5:30 p.m. heralded their arrivals with blankets and picnic baskets in tow.

The night went well. His kitty held his hand for most of it. Except for the times they separated to go sniffing for that particular brand of scent blocker. They didn’t find it. If the stalker stood amongst their friends and pack, the culprit was smart enough to stay far away in order to mask their identity.

Rue sparkled throughout the night. She teased and was teased by his family. She hadn’t put up any roadblocks when he stole kisses. If anything, she’d kissed the life out of him, eliciting catcalls and whistles from the gathering. And she seemed genuinely happy with the movies Mala chose for them.

She’d had a great time. At one point it became clear a bond had ignited between Rue, Lennox, Jules and Mala. Apparently the other guys noticed it too. Garrett had texted Daz, Cash, Ian and Dillon, calling for a meeting to figure out how to “break that shit up”. That’s not at all what the big wolf meant, though. Ian had gotten to know Garrett well enough to decipher the message: Let’s get together for beers and manly bonding.

But the forming of alliances wasn’t the scariest part of the night. Rue worried Ian most. His kitty might love him, still enjoy kissing him, and wasn’t inclined to let go of his hand, but she wasn’t happy with him either. If he hadn’t been sure of that, she clarified it for him when they said goodbye to everyone and went up to their bedroom.

Rue stiffly whipped around the room, picking up and putting down her toiletries with too much gusto.

“Listen, Kitty, we don’t need a wedding,” Ian said. “You can have the ring and the dress at our mating ceremony.”

What difference did having a wedding or not having one make? They were mates. That meant forever. He and Lennox had never gotten beyond the friendship he’d pushed to the point of breaking. Ian knew that as well as the rest of their community had when he’d been crazy enough to ask Lennox to marry him. Rue surpassed the need for a wedding and Ian wasn’t crazy anymore. He’d mark and mate his woman and that’d have to be enough for her.

A pair of boots hit the shoe rack so hard he winced. “I said fine,” Rue bit out from inside the closet.

“I’ve had enough of ‘fine’. Say something else, please,” he said, not liking the feeling of guilt making him edgy.

“Marriage.” Rue stormed out of the closet and threw herself on the bed. The next thing Ian knew she’d turned her back on him, but she hit him with a final verbal volley. “In this scenario, marriage really would be something else.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Each of the next fourteen nights ended the same way. A low level of anger became a constant between them; Rue understood they both felt misunderstood. That’s why she kept trying to communicate to Ian why she needed more than a mating ceremony. But he refused to hear her. Perhaps he couldn’t understand because she hadn’t realized the depth of her reasoning herself until they’d gone into this silent war against each other.

Their stalker remained equally quiet, which helped. And their days were mostly happy ones. They loved each other and that sentiment made itself known in the most infuriating ways. She ordered cinnamon buns for his breakfast; and she loved that he couldn’t enter a room without kissing her. Things like that. Yet under the surface her fury at him burned her.

Rue finished tying her hair up in a ponytail and applied a generous amount of moisturizer. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror for longer than necessary. This was the part of the night she hated. Time to get into bed with the man she loved, refuse to kiss him goodnight and go to sleep with her back turned to him.

She straightened her back and followed through with their nightly routine because she didn’t know how to break the pattern without being heard first. She’d begun to wonder if Lennox had tried to tell Ian how she felt but he’d refused to hear her too.

Shoulders squared, Rue marched out of the bathroom past her bare-chested and absolutely gorgeous wolf. She got into bed with extra flounce. Ian growled as she moved. Yeah well, he’d made decisions and he’d stuck by them, but they were two people. He didn’t make decisions alone and she had the right to choose how she responded.

The whisper of his pants dropping was the only sound in the room. A few equally quiet steps and the bed indented. Ian rolled onto the mattress beside her, entirely too closely. If she’d expected tonight to be the same as the last fourteen, she’d miscalculated.

His muscular arm snaked around her waist and jerked her backwards against him. Her buttocks bounced into a raging erection, and the warmth of his breath against her cheek brought on a shiver of arousal.

“I’m still pissed,” she gritted out.

“So am I,” he snarled, as the sharp edge of his canines scraped her earlobe. Those butterflies of molten need fluttered to life low in her solar plexus. Rue turned her face into his kiss. She was brutal with it, her claws gripping the strong thighs behind her. His answering growl rumbled in his chest and the vibration turned her on that much more.

Neither of them bothered with foreplay. They were too furious to be tender. Yet their love, their unyielding need for one another, couldn’t be denied. Ian yanked her panties to one side and shoved into her. They both cried out as their bodies sang at being reunited.

Their position only allowed for short thrusts but Ian turned it into a rhythm of power and pleasure. He punished her, pounding into her body. Her slickness convulsed around him and she punished him by stroking his balls as they banged against her, in order to drive him over the edge.

A full body shudder overtook Rue once, twice and she came. Ian lasted several thrusts more then he arched into her and released, his body trembling with the pleasure and rage of it all.

Rue jerked away from Ian, then turned and flattened him on the bed. Her right hand wrapped around his cock while her left pressed against the center of his chest to hold him down. She pumped her fist feverishly, glaring wildcat fire at her mate until he hardened within her palm and his cock grew longer than two hands full. Satisfied with her power over him Rue impaled herself on that long thick erection and popped her hips, releasing and receiving him with each delicious undulation. He closed his eyes, meeting each roll of her hips with an equally vehement thrust. Fuck. Rue’s second furious orgasm smashed into her much too soon. Equally overwhelmed, Ian spasmed inside her, filling her body with liquid heat.

“
Fuuhck
,” he roared as she convulsed around him while pinning him to their bed.

Rue had heard about angry sex. She’d seen it in movies too. But she’d never understood it. How, if you were truly angry with someone, could you participate in the intimacy of sex? She’d wondered that before she fell in love with a man who made her a little crazy—a wolf who gave her pure love even when they fought non-stop for two weeks. She’d also discovered how fucking fantastic sex was when the emotions boiled over and your lover simply didn’t get it. Rue now wanted to learn the joys of makeup sex. But she had a feeling her first experience with that wouldn’t be tonight.

Once they’d lain down again, Ian asked, “Why?” His words were a sensual rasp at the curve of her ear. “Why can’t you be happy with a mating ceremony?”

She tried to turn but he held her tightly—her back pressed to his stomach. “Because my family left me behind,” she said. “And I want to officially make yours mine.” Rue reflected on it a bit more. “I need to know I’m a part of this family. And I need to know you’re over Lennox.”

His growl set her teeth on edge. “You need the legality of it?”

“No. I need to be a Somerfield, your wife, your mate, your partner, but I also need to belong to Cora, and Pop-pop. Also to Stan. Mating won’t do that. It’ll be recognized by the pack but not by the world. So yeah, maybe I need the legality so I have that solid ground to stand on.” Rue knew she wasn’t communicating what she needed, but her feelings were so complicated. They were tied up in her past. “This family is mine. I want that to chase away the fear of losing again.”

His kiss fell on her nape and he nuzzled his face into the curve of her spine. “Okay,” he breathed more than said.

Rue went still. She wasn’t sure what that meant but she knew her wolf had made a concession and she wanted to give the decision time to stick. In the silence that followed they slept for the first time in fourteen days without anger.

The next morning they went to work as usual. Rue didn’t see her magic man again until the evening. When she got home he came down the central stairs in a dark suit over a turquoise shirt with a dark patterned tie. Rue recalled how Jules said she reacted to Daz on a daily basis.

“Damn, Ian Somers,” she said. “Seriously, dammit, man.”

His fabulous eye-smile met her compliment. “Thanks, Kitty.” He held his arms out to either side to give her an unobstructed view. “I do my best for you.”

Rue grinned. “Your best is pretty freaking spectacular. I’ll take it.”

“Why don’t you go put on the dress I laid out on our bed?” He smiled mysteriously. “I’m taking the family out.”

They had dinner at an upscale Thai restaurant because Ian had learned how much Rue enjoyed the cuisine. She’d never been to a restaurant where each party member got their own server, including napkins being dropped across their laps, and hot lemon scented towels to clean their hands.

Her fingers stroked over the perfectly appropriate dress Ian chose for her. The pale blue raw silk flattered the lines of her body and matched Ian’s natural eye color—the color his eyes were now. Back at the house, he’d presented her with a simple bundle of violet calla lilies. Rue hadn’t stopped grinning since.

Ian sat Pop-pop at the head of the table and the old guy presided over the dinner conversation with such delight. Laughter came easily. Stan and Cora nearly occupied the same space they sat so close together. And Rue held Ian’s hand on top of the table, sharing secret smiles with him. She realized this was the unfettered happiness she’d been dreaming of.

They left the Thai restaurant and headed to the heart of downtown LuPines. Ian pulled his Impala into the parking lot behind the courthouse with her and Pop-pop in tow. Cora drove up behind them in her Jaguar XF (the car not a shifter) with Stan in the passenger seat.

Excitement bubbled up in Rue’s chest. They were going to get a marriage license. Inside the courthouse, activity had slowed down for the day, but Ian led them confidently through security and up to the chambers of Judge Charlotte Chambers. Rue hid her smile. Talk about your name being a part of your destiny.

Judge Chambers greeted them with a big booming voice and stern gaze that didn’t hide her approval. “I’ve got everything ready, Ian. And I’m glad the favor you finally asked for has nothing to do with getting out of jail.”

They spoke in low voices for a moment, then Ian and the judge turned to Rue simultaneously. “Come over here and let me hug your neck, Rue,” the judge said. “This young man needed a good woman.”

Because Rue was nearly drunk on excitement she didn’t realize something was off with the process of getting their marriage license until the judge asked if they were ready and began the ceremony right there.

“Wait,” Rue said. Her gaze darted around the judge’s chambers wildly. “This is it? This is all you’re prepared to give me, Ian? A sneak attack wedding?”

Ian’s brows scrunched with confusion. “You said you wanted to get married. We’re getting married.”

Tears clogged Rue’s throat. “Oh yeah? Where’s your pack? Where are your friends? Dillon isn’t even here.” She started to shake so hard Cora ran to her side and held her close.

The wolf returned to Ian’s eyes, an amber signal of his fury. “What do you want from me?”

“Your trust, Ian.” Rue choked on tears. Her next words were garbled but she forced them out anyway. “If you’re over her then where is Lennox now? Why didn’t you invite her and Dillon to the happiest day of your life? They’re your best friends, aren’t they?”

His posture closed down; the lines of his shoulders became sharp and unforgiving. “You know they are, Rue.”

“Here’s what I know, Ian.” Rue wiped her tears away as her anger returned in an onslaught. “You planned to get us married this way because you’re in control here in the judge’s chambers. I couldn’t stand you up if my wedding snuck up on me. Right? But where is my choice?” Her words were emphatic. “Where is your faith in me? The faith that on our wedding day I’ll be there, at the top of the aisle, waiting for Stan to walk me down to you. Because I love you, Ian. And because I am
not
Lennox.”

He didn’t speak, only glowered at her. Judge Chambers stood by.

Rue took Cora’s hand. “Can you take me home? I need to move out for a little while.”

Cora sobbed but she nodded. They headed for the door with their arms wrapped around each other. Cora sent her son a last disappointed glance. It hurt Rue’s heart.

“You’re leaving me the way Lennox did,” Ian snarled behind them.

“No,” Rue said, sadly. “I’m not. I’m going to marry you, Ian Orion Somers. But you just proved my point.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cora left Somerfield with Rue the next morning while Ian stood in front of the house with balled-up fists. When he asked his mother why she decided to go with Rue, she’d brushed the hair off his forehead and said, “Because I’m the only mom she has.”

Ian hugged Cora, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Between her, the Averdeen women and Garrett, he knew his mate would be safe. Stan dropped the two women off at Averdeen Manor but came back to Somerfield Villa to stay with Ian and Pop-pop.

For days Ian tried to understand why his kitty had flipped out at the courthouse. She’d said she needed their union to be legal. He’d tried to get them married, but it seemed she wanted a wedding not a marriage. Maybe she wanted both. Neither he nor his wolf could figure this shit out. The wolf didn’t care, though. He howled for his mate inside Ian’s mind and it was driving Ian crazy.

The grapevines came to his rescue as they had since his birth. During the day he took care of the vineyard. At night…well, wine helped. The wolf’s howls dulled at the bottom of several glasses and several more bottles. Fuck his wolfen metabolism. Alcohol never affected a shifter for long. Staying drunk became an act of stamina.

Some nights Stan and Dillon would sit with him at the dining table and they’d talk. On those evenings the bourbon and scotch flowed. Pop-pop didn’t drink so he left them to it. The old guy seemed to miss Cora, and also Rue, more than anyone anticipated. Pop-pop lost a bit of his pep. Ian couldn’t blame him.

About a month into the separation, Ian started waking up in wolf form on the Averdeen Manor front porch. Most days Rue would be there, sleeping on the swing beside his wolf. Some mornings her cat would be with him instead. The frequency of his wolf slinking over there and Rue’s decision to sleep at his side encouraged Ian and Garrett to install heaters on the porch to drive off the late fall chill and keep Rue from getting sick.

One night Ian came home to find Pop-pop sitting alone on the uppermost patio terrace. The old guy wept so quietly Ian might not have known if it weren’t for the trembling shoulders and the scent of salt water on the air. Ian took stock of his actions and realized he’d disappointed his mother, hurt his great granddad and he’d driven his woman away. The one woman he loved beyond friendship. Rue was his life.

On that night the wine completely stopped working.

Dillon showed up with Cash the next morning. The two men barged into Ian’s bedroom as he got dressed. “What tha—?”

“Go ahead, Cash,” Dillon said.

And Cash punched Ian in the head, knocking him on his ass. Ian sprang up ready to fight. Even with his limp, Cash dodged him easily.

Dillon shook his head. “One more time, Cash.”

Cash cocked his fist way back. No matter how fast Ian moved he unavoidably got punched in the head and knocked on his ass. Wiping the blood from his nose, he decided to stay down this time.

Dillon loomed over him, his eyes pure amber. “Do you love Rue?”

“More than my life,” Ian yelled back. He was the fucking pack alpha but his best friend and a shifter of unknown origins had him on his ass and whining about his woman.

“Do you love her?” Dillon asked, his claws extended, his words choppy.

“Yes!” Ian growled. He pushed off the floor onto his feet. His own claws had unleashed, and he was ready for round two. But Dillon surprised him with a sad smile.

“Then what the hell is wrong with you?” The pack doctor tapped Cash on the shoulder and nodded toward the exit. “Let’s go, Cash.” And they left.

A movement at the door caught Ian’s attention. He thought his two buddies had come back to finish kicking his ass. His great granddad stood in the doorway instead.

“Are you done with fighting?” Pop-pop asked, and he wasn’t talking about Ian’s brawl with the boys.

Ian hugged his great granddad as he headed to the front entrance. Behind the house he shifted and his wolf howled into the morning sun. They took off in a lope, headed straight for Averdeen Manor.

With the springy grass of the Averdeen front lawn cool under his paws, Ian transformed. He howled for his mate. Afterward he breathed into the seconds of waiting, but eventually she came to the door. They met each other halfway between the porch and his position on the lawn. Without a word he fell to his knees. Gripping her hips in a hug of utter desperation, he buried his face in her soft stomach. After a few loud heartbeats, he started to wonder if she heard him when he’d said, “I surrender.”

But she did because she stroked his head and whispered, “So do I.”

* * * * *

On the morning of his wedding, Ian sat on the cliff of his think place with his best friend. Their legs dangled off the two-story cliff but their gazes stayed on the horizon.

“I’m glad you figured things out,” Dillon said.

“I never realized the transformative properties of a punch to head,” Ian mused. “And I missed my girls. God dammit, those two women make life better.”

Dillon placed a hand on his knee and studied Ian. “What were you thinking? Were you body-snatched or is this the first time I’m noticing you’re an idiot?”

Ian chuffed. “After my first wedding went to hell, I vowed ‘never again’.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hadn’t realized it but that vow had become ingrained in my subconscious. I had no problem with marrying Rue. That’s my privilege. But every time I thought about a wedding, the words ‘never again’ hit me in the chest and I couldn’t do it.”

“Well,” Dillon said. “This is the first time I’m hearing misery is a cure for stupidity. I’ll keep that in mind when I make my speech at the reception.”

Both Ian’s eyebrows raised into an inverted V of agreement. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he said, “Thanks for this, by the way. Rue will kill me if I show up in a dusty tux.”

“Nah, I won’t let that happen,” Dillon said. “Despite your habit of disappearing for years at a time, I don’t have a better friend. Just try not to pull any more secret missions to go find your mate.”

They chuckled. “Nah,” Ian said, “Rue is my only one.”

Dillon stood and straightened his tux. “You coming back with me?”

Eyes on the horizon, Ian said, “I’m going to sit here for a little longer to get my head straight. I’ll see you there.”

“You’d better,” Dillon said. “You got your keys?”

“Yeah, I left them in the ignition. I don’t wanna drop them and be late to my own wedding.”

“Good man,” Dillon called back on the way to his car. He waved over the top of his head, climbed into his vintage Camaro, and drove off.

Ian stood up to take a slow turn, imagining where the cabin would be and how the garden Pop-pop had designed would look at this time of year. He’d decided to surprise Rue and bring her up once they’d fully built the cabin and landscaped the surrounding area. After finishing a complete circuit, Ian faced the river and the rising sun again.

The wind shifted. A chemical odor Ian had been waiting to catch again carried on the breeze—the scent blocker. He spun around in time to see a hooded figure turn the ignition in his car. The wheels squealed as the Impala rammed into him. Pain exploded in his legs.

Unable to stop himself, Ian toppled backwards off the cliff. He rolled down the embankment, bumping rocks and tangling in branches as he fell. His bones snapped, and he bled from a surplus of cuts, but he was thankful he hadn’t fallen off a sheer cliff. A straight twenty-foot drop could’ve killed him. Not that he was guaranteed to survive this fall, especially with broken ribs and loss of blood, but he had a chance.

* * * * *

Rue sat on an ottoman in the bedroom Cora had turned into a bridal suite at Somerfield Villa. She looked beautiful. She knew this because an entire cavalcade of people had told her so, including her adopted dad, Stan, who stood nervously at the ready to walk her down the aisle. The only person who hadn’t told her how beautiful she looked was the one person who mattered.

Where is he?

Cora gave her more fruit then nervously fluffed her veil. Again. “I’m not sure what’s going on,” she said. “He loves you, Rue.”

Rue didn’t doubt Ian’s love. She doubted his ability to go through with the wedding. Oh, well. In the first hour she’d thought he’d decided to make her sweat as punishment for pushing him into a ceremony.

In the second hour she’d worried he’d gotten into a car accident or something. But Stan checked and assured her he hadn’t. Dillon had gone back up to Ian’s think place to look for him but came back alone with only a sad headshake for her.

In the third hour she’d been angry, so much so she’d had to fight her cat to keep their claws from shredding her wedding dress.

And now…now, Rue didn’t know how to feel. Despite being surrounded by a room full of friends and new family, she felt alone again. As if she hadn’t been forgiven for accidentally causing her brother’s death as a child. She should do the smart thing, pick up and leave. Ian broke her today. Maybe the time had come to give up on being happy.

* * * * *

Agony ripped through Ian. Several of his ribs were broken along with a few fingers and possibly the elbow of one arm. His left leg was fucked and he’d lost a lot of blood before the smaller cuts began to heal. Somehow he found something to be thankful for. First, he’d survived the fall. Second, when the stalker forced his car off the cliff behind him, the car had dropped straight down. The grill crushed on impact, flipping the Impala onto the opposite side from where Ian laid. Third, one of his arms and one of his legs still worked. It had taken him several tries and a few hours of blacking out and regaining consciousness—something was definitely wrong with his lungs—but he’d finally flipped the Impala over. Amazingly the car started, though it made an ugly sound. Old cars and their heavy steel frames took a lot more punishment than the cardboard modern models. If the Impala had been any newer Ian would’ve been screwed.

Both he and his car were jacked up and busted, but they were on their way to Rue. He’d be late. But he’d be there.

* * * * *

Rue had gone into the bedroom and started shoving clothes into her luggage when Lennox came in and took a seat in one of the armchairs.

“Cora is talking to your guests,” Lennox said. “What are you doing?”

Rue held up a hand for silence. “Don’t, Lennox.”

Lennox made a face. She apparently didn’t like being told what to do. Rue didn’t care. That didn’t shut Lennox up, though. “When you showed up at my front door,” Lennox said. “You told me you asked Ian to believe in you.”

Her eyes rolled, Rue couldn’t help it. “So what?”

Lennox walked over to watch her slam her belongings into a hard case. “You wanted him to trust you’d be there at the top of the aisle waiting for him, right?” Lennox asked. Rue waved her off, as though she was swatting an imaginary fly.

On a sigh, Lennox said, “But you’re going to walk away because he’s late? Ian is always late in figuring things out.” The woman, who’d opened her home to Rue when she’d needed a friend, grabbed Rue’s hands. Rue tried to jerk away but Lennox showed no strain in holding onto her.

Damn, this bitch is strong.

“Don’t you have enough faith to wait for him? Like you asked him to believe in you?”

Those words chilled Rue to her soul. It’d be stupid and more than a little desperate to wait. Ian had shown her how he felt about their wedding. He’d made it too clear for her to deny it this time. Then again, the man who’d already kept her waiting for hours was the one person in the world she knew she could trust.

A horrible mechanical racket sounded from out back on the service road. Lennox rushed to the window. “Oh god, Rue,” she said. “You need to get out there.”

Rue trusted Lennox enough to make a run for it. On the outskirts of the patio terraces, Ian’s smashed Impala chugged to a stop.

My baby!
Rue hiked up her dress and ran for the car. The pack and their friends followed her. When she reached the driver’s side, the door screeched but didn’t open.

Rue screamed. “He’s trapped. Help me!” She grabbed the edge of the door and Cora was right there with her. But they were either too upset or not strong enough to get the door opened.

Dillon swept them both into his chest. Rue fought him until Garrett appeared at their side and jerked the car door fully off its hinges. Ian’s mangled form pitched out of the Impala. Rue dove under him in time to catch him. His eyes, the only part of his face that wasn’t bruised, crinkled in his infamous smile. “Hello, Kitty.”

“My God, Ian,” Cora said.

“Let’s get him into the house so you can heal him, Rue,” Dillon ordered.

Ian somehow pushed to a sitting position. “No, I want my wife to heal me.”

Rue allowed her blue glow to spill out of her. “Yes, Magic Man, I’m going to heal you. Right here if that’s what you want.”

He actually jerked away and winced. “No, you’re not my wife. Yet. I want my
wife
to heal me,” he said, with a snarl of pain.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cora said. “She’s going to marry you no matter what.”

“I agree,” Rue said. She could see the agony all over his beautiful face and she wanted to make it stop. He had to let her heal him before they got married.

“You know I’m not hearing you right now, right?” Ian tried to stand but hissed from the pain and toppled over.

Cora quivered in a fury. Dillon shook his head and said to Rue, “Have you been introduced to your future mate and fiancé?”

Rue nodded. She had in fact met her man and as she glared at him for being crazy, she realized he was pretty freaking great.

Cora took note of the stupid grin on her face and gave up. Dillon did the same. “All right then,” he said to Ian. “It looks like I’m giving the groom away.”

A few minutes later, Sheriff Stan, The Exterminator, walked a bride covered in blood and car grease down the aisle. At the end of it he lifted Rue’s veil to kiss her forehead. “It’s nice having a daughter,” he said, before he turned military style and joined Cora on the front row.

After that Rue cried hysterically through the entire ceremony. So much so, the town reverend, Pastor Sweetlow, had to keep stopping to wait out the fuss.