Page 41 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss
He peels the covers back and pulls me into his lap. He cradles me into his chest, but this isn’t the comfort I need right now. And that’s what scares me. I feel almost normal. The only thing about me that doesn’t feel the same as yesterday afternoon is that my throat hurts.
“I watched a pack of werewolves kill two other werewolves, and you ate a man’s heart!” I say,flabbergasted. “Shouldn’t I be a little grossed out or worried?”
“Wolves don’t really get blood-borne illnesses, so I mean that’s not a concern. But as for being scared, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel safe, Cheyenne.”
“That is the most realistic experience I could ask for as a writer. But this is what I mean. I’m notthattraumatised.”
“Do you want to be?”
“No,” I whine.
“Take this as a sign from the universe.” He smiles as he kisses my forehead. “You’re exactly as prepared as you need to be, and right now all we need to do is get dressed and enjoy a wedding.”
“Will you dance with me?”
“Until the end of time,” he promises.
Chapter fifteen
Valentino
The microphone is heavy in my hand. Sweat beads across my forehead, drips down my back as I stare at my family and the close friends of the Benettis. We are crammed into the backyard, the hard decking over the pool turned into a dance hall. It’s gorgeous. You’d never think I had this place torn apart twelve hours ago.
It’s my time to give a speech.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining us at our ancestral home as we add another beautiful person to our family. Can we get another round of applause for Junelle?” I pause, letting the attention move back to the bride so I can take a calming breath. My gaze flicks just to my right where Cheyenne sits in her stunning plum dress. Elation plays at my heartstrings when she smiles atme. “I won’t give a long speech, I know the staff have prepared a good meal for us. Andrea, you’ve grown into a man right before my eyes, but you’re still just the little boy who used to make me pinky promise on everything we made. It didn’t matter if it was to have ice cream after dinner or to come home after work, you wouldn’t leave my side without that promise.”
I walk around the head table to my nephew, my heir, to the man I raised with all the love I could as a man stricken with grief and rage. He’s already leaning forward when I get to him. Tears slip down his cheek as I hook my pinky around his.
“I promise that all the Benetti here and in our hearts are so proud of the man you’ve become. Promise me you’ll spend the rest of your life showing Junelle what a good man you are?”
“I promise,” he murmurs, hand shaking, before he stands and hugs me over the table. “Thank you, Uncle Tino.”
“Love you, kid.” My voice is harsh with how much I’m holding back tears.
I hug Junelle next, and the waterworks just come out of me. The tears start falling, and I don’t give two shits. I’ve got to be the luckiest fucking man in the world. My family is the most beautiful creation. Perfect even when we’re messy.
I sniffle hard once I’m standing back enough to see everyone again. “Now, let’s eat!”
Waitstaff appear in the blink of an eye, setting plates in front of everyone at the head table. I pull Cheyenne’s seat closer to mine when I sit down. She hands me a tissue as she dabs her eyes. The makeup team really did a masterclass amount of work to cover up the bruising on her neck. I kiss her forehead. She won’t ever need to cover up again.
“That was a lovely speech,” she says, her voice still a little too broken for my liking.
I pass her a glass of ice water. She’s not exactly pleased I said we weren’t drinking tonight, but I promised to make it up to her later.
“You should have seen him in Jamaica,” Ugo laughs, taking a slurp from his wineglass. “Never thought he’d stop crying.”
Cristina slaps his shoulder. “Don’t be a dick, or we’ll make your wedding worse.”
“Psh, who says I want all this?” He rolls his eyes. Ugo has just turned thirty, he’s got his whole life ahead of him, yet he’s got it in his head he doesn’t have a mate. A defence mechanism if I’ve ever seen one. We’ve all got our crazy vices. His future mate won’t see those as red flags,though.
Like Cheyenne has, she’s seen me at my most feral yet. She still wants me, craves to be near me, even after everything she saw this morning.
“You don’t have to have this exactly,” Cheyenne says. “I don’t want this exactly. It’s a whole societal construct to control women. As if a piece of paper will speak louder than my or my partner’s actions?”
“Oh, no, I want the whole thing.” Cristina puts her elbows on the table as a wistful look appears on her features. “Swept off my feet, the dress, the vows. If my mate doesn’t sob like a baby while my dad walks me down the aisle, I don’t want ’em.”
Conversation carries on. I ask about her father, who retired from the life a while back and is living in the middle of the woods. Like always, this starts Cristina off on a tirade of complaints. It allows my thoughts to drift to what Cheyenne said. She wants a partner whose actions will speak louder than words. While I feel like I have proven that about myself, if I had to guess, it’s about sustained actions.
