Page 45 of Christmas Mafia Prince
“Fine,” the teen says with a long sigh, and leans over to grab Bessie’s lead.
“Take care of him like he’s your favorite Balenciaga bag.”
“The one I jerk off into?” Aspen grins at Damen who shakes his head.
“Get out of my sight.”
And with that, we’re off at a normal, and not scary at all, pace.
Though I’m not sure if Aspen himself is someone I should be wary of or not. He is a kid and Damen did leave me with him specifically, but he is still a member of this weird-ass family, and in on their murderous secrets.
“So… how’s Damen in bed?” Aspen asks out of nowhere as we lag behind the group, making our way across a large snow-covered meadow between the woodland and the gardens surrounding the mansion.
I’m instantly reminded of that one glorious fuck we’ve had in Damen’s bed, but that is none of Aspen’s business. “Why do you want to know what yourcousindoes in bed? Kinda weird if you ask me.”
Aspen shrugs, comfortable in the saddle for someone who seems to be a city rat. “It was worth a shot. Always had a hunch about him,” he adds and pokes his temple with one finger.
“What about Corvus?” I ask, trying to shift the attention, but also kinda curious if Aspen knows anything.
Aspen sighs. “Dunno. He acts so prissy about sex he might as well be a Victorian maiden. Also, I’m not crazy enough to go through his things and find out, if you know what I mean.”
I do not, but curiosity is eating me up like there’s a coyote trapped inside my guts. “As in…? What do you think he’d do? It’s not like he’d kill family over a thing like that. Or would he?”
Aspen shakes his head. “Oh, worse. He’s the salt-in-wound and pliers kind of guy. I wouldn’t risk it.”
I now wonder if I should have cussed Corvus out, but what’s done is done. “But he’s not hunting tomorrow, is he? Because he’s not married?” I’m trying to establish if I will be left alone in his vicinity for many hours when my man is out there trying to get a stag head or some shit.
“Nah, and neither am I. It’s really unfair,” Aspen mumbles, leading Bessie toward the mansion. “I don’t know if I ever want to get married, and the olds are wagging the hunt over our heads like a carrot to make us get hitched. As iftheirrelationships are so great.”
I don’t know why participation in this particular hunt would be reason enough to do something as life-altering as getting married, but that’s just me. I’m not from money, and was never forced to consider the consequences of my life choices from the angle of continuing the family line or billion dollar inheritances.
Aspen doesn’t mind my silence and goes on. “And, like, if it’s about having babies, why do they think getting married will help? Condoms exist. Duh. And look, you two got married, and neither of you is getting knocked up anytime soon.” He cackles and gives the mansion a one-finger salute. “Up yours, tradition! Sometimes I think I should just crash the hunt. Tell no one, pick off some heads,bam bam, bring them to my dad, and show him marriage isn’t necessary to be a good hunter. And what’s he gonna do? Revive the dead? Those prisoners are dead men walking already anyway, so what’s it matter?”
Cogs click into place in my head as my gaze drifts off to Damen. He’s talking to the older men at the front of our cavalcade, too far away for them to hear us. “Wh… whatprisoners?” I choke out as dread settles in my stomach like the snow around us on tree branches. If Aspen means what I think he does, this is psychotic.
But worst of all, Damen broke the one promise I demanded of him—to refrain from lying to me in serious matters. And I not only fell into the trap he set for me but then almost crawled back into his arms right before my horse got spooked.
I’m such an idiot. Literally, too stupid to live.
“Whoopsie,” Aspen mutters, staring at me. “I mean… at least now you know, right?” he finishes good-naturedly and changes course as soon as the stable emerges from behind the trees. “Members of the family are usually told at eighteen, but I have an inquisitive brain, you know? But it’s all good, they’re prisoners, so they’re here for a reason.”
I stare at him, trying to not seem bewildered, but it’s impossible. “Wherehere?”
“I can’t tell you, can I? But…” He leans close, looking around. “I will let you in on a secret. My mom told me that in the first year someone’s married, their spouse is part of the hunt. It’s this whole ritual, that you’re supposed to show you can protect them. Unless, of course, you fail, then I guess you need a new wife—sorry,spouse, next year.”
And I thought the fact that the man I’m falling in love with hunts people for sport was my biggest problem.Thisis happening on top of homicidal mayhem? And he didn’t even tell me? If the blond little shit knows, Damen must as well!
“I… the horse is making me feel nauseous,” I whisper and take my foot out of the stirrup, grabbing the saddle as I swing my leg over the beast’s hindquarters, and then let go. My other leg is briefly stuck in the other stirrup, and for a moment I fear I might land under Bessie’s hoofs in the slowest trampling in history of horse-riding accidents, but I manage to free myself and tumble into the snow.
Aspen scowls with a low hiss. “Ayayay... I fucked up with all this, didn’t I? Honestly, maybe Damen picked the wrong person to calm you down, so it’s kinda his fault, isn’t it?”
I pick myself up in frustration and shake snow off my pants and coat. “Yeah, it is. It’s all his fucking fault!” I have to take a deep breath. “Excuse me as I go rethink my life choices,” I add in a voice dripping with sarcasm and stomp off toward the house.
“So… should I, like, take care of Bessie?” Aspen yells after me, but I leave that up to him.
I really am getting nauseated now. My… what? He’s not my husband. We’re not even fucking. But let’s call him man-I-was-considering-fucking-again. So this man, Damen Van der Horn,mon chéri, is so excited to hunt people on Christmas Day that he roped me into a fake marriage, and it slipped his mind to tell me what I’m in for.
If he’s this much of a psycho, why would I believe anything he’s said to me? Maybe he’s just annoyed he doesn’t get to fuck me anymore, but since he doesn’t like to be rapey, he’s trying to seduce me instead. All in a cold and calculated plan to… to what?
