Page 27 of Broken Wolf Heart
He blinks, softening instantly at my tone. “Yeah?”
“Are we… actually married?”
6
LEXI
Grey’s brows pull together. “What?”
I look away, my uncertainty making me nervous. “I mean, the ceremony got interrupted, and I got accused of murder and then was basically kidnapped, and there was a lot of snarling and blood and murder today—so… did it count?”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and that one stupidly crooked smile somehow makes my heart squeeze harder than all the chaos ever could. Losing Grey would be the single worst thing that could ever happen to me. And the harder I fall for him, the more painfully aware of that fact I become. I need Grey Diavolo to love me like I love him: obsessively, unendingly—forever.
“You’re seriously asking me this right now? After we’ve just claimed each other as mates?”
“I am,” I say, trying to sound light, but I can’t quite hide the nerves threading through my voice. “Claiming is between our wolves. But being married to you… I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me being a human, but it feels more like a public declaration. A different kind of promise. And I want to know if you actually want that. If it still means something, or if it was just part of the plan to keep me safe.”
He’s quiet for half a second; then he exhales like it physically hurts that I even have to ask. His fingers slide under my chin, lifting my face to his.
“You’re my wife, Lexi. My mate. My alpha. You’re not just part of the plan I have for the rest of my life—youarethe plan. You and me. Forever. That’s it.”
My throat tightens, but he keeps going.
“And to be clear, human, wolf, I want every part of you. The Fast and Furious movie binges, the wolf who shreds her enemies to ribbons, the girl whose body I can’t keep my hands off of. I want to spend the rest of my life being driven crazy by you and loving every second of it. So yeah. We’re married. And no, I don’t regret it for a second.”
My lips part, but no words come out.
My wolf huffs softly in agreement.
Grey’s hand trails along my own before he winds his fingers through mine. The touch reminds me?—
“I lost the ring,” I realize, looking down at my bare hand. “It must have fallen off when I shifted.”
“We’ll find it,” he assures me with a shrug, but I have to blink back tears at how careless I’ve just been with the symbol of our commitment.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I told you, my father picked that ring?—”
“No, I know. I meant the twist-tie,” I say softly. “The oneyougave me.”
I run my fingers over the bare spot on his hand, noting that the one I gave him during our ceremony is also gone.
“It’s a hazard of shifting,” he says. “Trust me, don’t get attached to clothes or jewelry from here on out.”
“I’m only attached to you,” I tell him.
He leans in, brushing his mouth over mine like a vow. “That’s a good fucking thing,wife.Because I’m never letting you go.”
I smile, breathless and aching and stupidly, deliriously in love with this man. “I like hearing you call me that,” I whisper.
His answering grin is pure hunger and heat and heart. “Then I’ll say it every fucking day of forever.”
“That sounds nice.”
His answering kiss is light, playful. But I can’t stop the heaviness from returning when I try to picture the “forever” he’s just referred to. “Grey?”
He grins. “Yes, wife?”
