Page 71 of Ruffled Feathers

Pressing my nose between his shoulder blades, I breathed in his calming champagne scent and sighed with happiness. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Turning off the stove, he spun in my arms, wrapping his own around my shoulders. “Always. Until the end of time, Otillie-James Baler.” Grabbing me around the waist, he lifted me onto the countertop and stood between my thighs. “Now, eat some grilled cheese so you can go to bed, because you look like you’re about to drop.”

He lifted it to my mouth, and I dutifully took a bite. God, he was so beautiful. He stole my breath, and I didn’t think I wanted him to give it back. I wanted to stay gasping for air until he filled me back up with his lips.

I chewed, my eyes still wandering all over his face. “I love you. You know that, right?” I told him after I swallowed. “You mean so much to me. None of this would have been possible without you.”

He pressed closer between my thighs. “I love you too.” He nuzzled his cheek against mine.

“Be mine?” I breathed. I slid my lips down the long column of his throat. The urge to bite him, to claim him, was strong.

He chuckled. “I already am. I don’t need a claiming bite to promise you that.” I pouted, and he caught my jutting lower lipwith his teeth. “Soon, baby. When you aren’t bone tired. Once everything is settled, we’ll make it official, I promise.”

When he lifted me from the countertop, I wrapped my legs around his waist and clung on tight as he carried me upstairs to our nest. And when he laid me down in the blankets, my eyes were closed, and I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

My phone was blowing up. The rescue world was small, but the reality TV world was huge. When news outlets played clips of Anthony Smalls and the audio recordings of Joseph Powell confessing, it was pretty damning.

We were all sitting around the television, watching cops raid the Smalls Packhouse, the ASPCA removing all the animals from his care, the members of the Smalls Pack being put in the back of police cars. The network that ran his reality show dropped him immediately in a scathing press release, distancing themselves from the scandal, and I felt content.

This was the justice Spartacus deserved.

Former employees were coming out of the woodwork to discuss the unethical processes of the Smalls farm, breaking NDAs everywhere. The downfall ofAll Creatures Great and Smallswas quick and brutal and just what I wanted.

The message from Anakie only said two words. “Holy. Fuck.” But she didn’t ask any more questions than that. That was what I loved about Anakie.

I’d checked on Paloma earlier, though Max had to hold the phone, because Polly—that’s what she wanted to be called now—hadn’t ever seen a cellphone before. She wasn’t convinced it wouldn’t explode. Max had said that she felt that way about a lot of technology, and whatever cult she’d come from had been extremely secular, but not anti-tech. She’d never seen a television before, but had seen a Keurig. She couldn’t point towhere she was from on a map, but could name every country in the world alphabetically, and rank them by their crime rate.

Whatever her cult was, they’d purposefully kept them blind to the world around them and the idea of what normal was supposed to look like. They’d also kept them terrified of the outside world. Max said she spent most of her days in her bedroom with Doodles the dog, and if she had to go anywhere with a crowd, she would have a panic attack. Especially without the veil that covered her shaved head.

Whatever else her elders in that cult had taught her, it was that her hair was only for her Alpha’s enjoyment. Until she was bonded, she had to keep it shaved smooth.

I hoped those bastards got what was coming to them. Lance had told me not to worry about it, that Rio and Max would take care of it. I had a feeling he meant in the most bloody way possible.

I laid back against Truett’s chest and breathed a sigh of relief. It was done. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that someone else wouldn’t pop up in their place, but I’d donesomething.

“So that’s that.” Sonny said, Strat’s head on his lap as he stroked his hair. “Any other evil empires we need to bring down, or is it just back to normal from now on?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you met me?”

Laughing, Truett leaned down and kissed my temple. “Yep. It was the best day of my life.”

Epilogue

Strat

Six Months Later

Otillie-James looked beautiful. Dressed in a long white gown, trimmed in Irish lace, she looked like a vision. We stood inside the house, with her clinging to my hand. Her face was lit up with happiness, and I wasn’t sure she’d ever looked more beautiful.

She smiled at me, squeezing my palm softly. “Are you ready for this?” she whispered.

I nodded. “I’ve waited my whole life for this moment. I’m more than ready.”

She grinned. “Have I said you look gorgeous?” she asked, softly, waiting for our cue to go.

“Only like twenty times in the last hour,” I teased, and she leaned over and kissed me. She was wearing high heels, which could have been part of the reason she was clinging to me so tightly.

“Consider this the twenty-first. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, Strat Wilmington. Both inside and out. I’m so glad you’re here beside me today.”

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