Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

R iver and Ares sat at a small candle-lit table in the Guggenheim Museum, surrounded by Van Gogh. She took a bite of her steak and stared at the Montagnes à Saint-Rémy .

"I'm sorry they don't have any Davinci," Ares said.

River tore her eyes from the beautiful painting of the Alpilles mountains to see if he was joking. He swirled a glass of dark Cabernet Sauvignon, as the label read, and took a sip.

"You're serious."

"You said he was your favorite."

She snorted and nodded. "Yes, I think he's a genius, but you realize we are sitting at a table in the Guggenheim Museum, drinking what I can only assume is expensive wine and enjoying artwork by Vincent Van Gogh, right? The Vincent Van Gogh. That's not anything I thought I would do in my life."

"So, you like Van Gogh?"

How did she answer that question? "You see that painting?"

"The mountain one?"

She nodded. "Van Gogh painted for ten years before he sold one piece of artwork. He painted that in a mental institution. A mental institution! And then killed himself later that year."

"Wow, you're doing much better than he did. You sold out your first show."

She scoffed. "Because you bought everything."

He smiled. "If I hadn't, someone else would have."

She regarded him for a long minute. "Why did you buy all my pieces? To impress me?"

He swirled his wine again, watching it. "Not impress per se. More to get your attention."

"And did you think I'd want all my pieces going to one place, or did you think it would have made me happier knowing they stood all over the place so more people might enjoy them?"

He lifted his gaze. "Do you want me to give them back to the gallery?"

Her gut clenched. Did she?

"Did you even like any of them?"

His gaze intensified. "I loved all of them."

"What do you like about them?" she tested.

He didn't answer immediately, and she feared he was lying to her.

"I loved the flow of them. The gentleness yet strength. They are like you. Beautiful and delicate but rigid as steel."

River's throat dried, and she lifted her wine and gulped. No one had ever said anything like that about her work before. Even the people at the exhibit said they were amazing. Beautiful. Expertly crafted. But none had seen them as representations of herself.

She smiled, glad he'd bought them all.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked.

Her cheeks heated. "I… I'm glad you bought my sculptures."

He lifted an eyebrow. "You are?"

She nodded.

"Is it because as soon as we are mated, what is mine is yours, so you'll have them back?" He grinned.

"What? No. I didn't realize that."

His smile broadened. She liked how his smile lit up his dark eyes and mellowed them.

He set down his glass of wine and checked at his watch. "We only have about another hour."

She nodded and finished her wine before standing.

Ares rushed around the table and pulled her chair out for her.

She turned to face him. "You don't have to do that."

His eyes grew serious. "When you enter the room, everyone will stand. When you exit, they will stand. No one will eat until you've taken a bite. No one will sit before you have been seated. And I will always, always pull out your chair for you and push it in for you. You are my Omega. You will only ever be treated with the utmost respect. If you aren't, the punishments will be dire. Even to myself."

River opened her mouth, but once again, he'd left her speechless. So, instead, she approached him, reached up on her toes, and kissed his cheek.

Ares pushed her chair into the table and offered her his arm. When she linked it with his, he winced. The memory of the odor of blood when he'd picked her up bubbled to the surface, and she pulled to a halt.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Were you hurt today?"

His gaze flickered for a moment, and then he smiled. "I'm fine." He took her arm, but she slipped it away.

"That's not what I asked," she pressed.

"It's nothing. I'll be healed by tomorrow morning at the latest." He moved to retake her arm, but she backed away a step.

"Show me."

"River, it's nothing. Let's enjoy the museum on our own while we can."

Anger boiled inside River, and she stepped up to Ares. "You say I am your Omega. You say I am not to be disrespected. The biggest form of disrespect in my book is dishonesty if you want me to respect you. To trust you. To… love you… you need to do the same. If you want me as your Omega and your mate, I say okay. But if I do, I'm all in. Everything. Between you and me, there can be no secrets. You need to share with me. Everything. The good, the bad, the awful. Can you do that?"

A fire sparked in Ares's eyes. "Yes," he said in a husky voice.

She searched his eyes for deceit, but there wasn't any. "Let me see."

He didn't move. "And what about you? Will you go all in? No secrets? Share everything? The good, the bad, the awful?"

River's heart thundered, but she didn't look away. "Yes."

She thought he might kiss her again as heat swirled around them and the air sizzled with tension. She wasn't sure what had happened, but something changed between them. Like a tumbler in a lock, a piece clicked into place.

Ares unbuttoned his suit jacket and untucked his shirt. He turned and lifted the tails of his shirt, showing her a bandage between six and eight inches long.

Her gut clenched, and her wolf whined. Someone had hurt him. Hurt him bad. Her Alpha. Her mate. Anger crashed through River, and when their eyes met, she was all too aware that her claws and teeth had lengthened.

A tender smile played on Ares' lips, and he tucked in his shirt.

"Your anger touches me more than words can say, Little Wolf. But it will take more than a fight with a couple of rogues to take me from you." He brushed his lips across hers, but when he moved to pull away, she fisted her hand in his shirt and pulled him to her.

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek but didn't deepen the kiss. He broke his lips from hers a moment later and took her hand.

"Come on. We haven't seen the sculptures yet."

Body shaking, wolf howling, River let Ares usher her out of the room to the next exhibit. Her mind whirled, unable to comprehend what was happening between her and Ares… but her wolf sure as hell did. Little by little, though they hardly knew each other, she and Ares were becoming mates.

* * *

Ares let River lead him from sculpture to sculpture for an hour, talking about the artists, the medium, and the techniques. Though he'd never remember a fraction of what she told him, his wolf chuffed with happiness to be with her and listen to her so passionate about something. Listening to her talk about art brought about a different person in her. The beautifully vulnerable little wolf she'd buried under piles and gallons of descenting spray, blocker pills, and pain.

On their way to the opera, the Director of the Guggenheim texted Ares to make sure everything had gone well. Ares thanked him for opening the museum to them, which was normally closed on Tuesdays, and promised another sizeable check. One of the perks of being heir to the Lycan throne and a sizable fortune was knowing many influential people. It also helped when those people were supernaturals, either loyal or afraid of him.

"So where are we going next?" asked River.

"We did something you loved, so now I'm going to take you to something I love."

"The theater?"

Having someone remember the personal things he said had never made him happy before, not that he talked about himself much. With River, everything was different. Everything was heightened, more intense, and more meaningful.

"To the opera."

"What play?"

"Carmen. It's not in English, but it'll have subtitles above the stage. If you get lost, I can explain it to you. It's quite simple. A harlot seduces a young soldier and ends up destroying his life."

"That's your favorite opera?"

"To be honest, most of my favorites seem sad, but to me, Carmen is something I've always wanted."

"To be destroyed by a woman?"

"Exactly. To love a woman so much, nothing else matters to me but her. A woman I would give up everything for. A woman who makes me lose all sense of reason. A fated mate."

Her cheeks flushed.

The car stopped. Theo opened his door, and Ares exited. He buttoned his suit jacket as he sniffed and scanned the crowd for danger, but Santiago, Drew, and Lachlan were already on it. They positioned themselves casually but strategically up the wide staircase and then nodded to Theo.

"We're good."

Ares turned and helped River from the car. She stopped momentarily as she took in the thick crowd and sniffed the air. Her eyes darted around and landed on Lachlan up the steps, and her shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Ares held back a growl at the thought she might have feelings for Lachlan. Of course, she didn't. She was his mate. His. He wanted her comfortable with his men. They were, after all, her men, too. The more relaxed she became with them, the more comfortable she'd be in his world.

Ares kissed her head. "Come on, Little Wolf."

They walked together to the steps, where she gripped his arm for support. The small gesture made his wolf sigh in contentment. Ares wrapped an arm around her and steadied her. Halfway up the staircase, Ares began purring, and by the top, he purred so loud his body practically vibrated.

River stopped and placed her hand over his heart. "What is that? I've never heard anything like it before."

Ares stopped. "I… uh… I don't know how to explain it. It's like purring, I suppose. I've never done it before."

She didn't remove her hand. Her thin fingers rubbed the fabric of his jacket.

"It's so… comforting. Is it an Alpha thing?"

"Honestly," he said. "I have no clue."

They stared at each other as if in their own bubble of warmth. Eventually, she removed her hand and turned to the door.

"We should go so we aren't late."

Ares nodded, and they continued inside.

* * *

Ares led River to a center seat above the orchestra level. All around her, the sound echoed, and people laughed and smiled, excited about the performance.

She moved her knees in as Lachlan sat on the other side of her, and Theo sat next to Ares. She didn't know where Santiago and Drew had gone but figured they couldn't be too far away. She wondered if Ares's bodyguards liked opera and art museums as well. She couldn't imagine following someone around day in and day out and hating where they went.

She turned to Lachlan, who scanned the crowd ever alert. "Have you seen this one before?"

Lachlan smiled. "Many times, Highness."

"Lachlan, you can call me River."

His gaze traveled to Ares, and he shook his head. "I wouldn't dare, Highness."

River looked at Ares. "Seriously? You called me that before I met Ares."

Ares gave her an impassive expression. "That was before."

Her lips twisted. "What are people supposed to call me?"

"Her Highness. Omega. Princess. And when you are my mate, you will be called High Luna or Her Majesty."

"But never by my actual name? The one given to me by my dad?"

"Your birth name is only for your closest family and friends."

"And you want me to trust my bodyguards, right?"

Ares's eye twitched. "They will call you Highness, Omega, Princess, High Luna, or Her Majesty."

River clenched her jaw. "Theo calls you Ares."

"Theo has been my brother since childhood. Zeke's mate Bianca may call you River. Your mother and stepfather may call you River. I may call you River."

"What about Zeke? He'll be my brother-in-law."

The lights dimmed, and Ares didn't answer.

River huffed. She didn't want to be called any of those things. She wanted to be called by her name. She liked her name. Her father had given it to her. He'd said when she was born and opened her eyes for the first time, they reminded him of the river by their house.

River bit her tongue and turned to the stage as the orchestra began to play. This wasn't the end of the discussion. Not by a mile.