Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

R iver watched the lights twinkle all over the city—brake lights, headlights, stop lights, go lights—people free to go where they wanted and do what they wanted. And as the height of the hotel room separated her from them, so too did her new life.

"Would you like to change?" Ares asked.

The sound of his voice sent a shiver of desire through her, but she shut it down like an unwanted slap to the ass.

"You have something I can wear?" She didn't turn.

"Uh… well… there's a bathrobe in the salon if you would like to bathe. There's a beautiful antique claw tub with all kinds of… things, soaps, and whatnot."

She pressed her forehead to the cool glass. Every particle of her sagged with exhaustion. A hot bath did sound wonderful.

"All right." She turned from the window when Ares' sudden movement caught her off guard. He knelt before her and wrapped her in his bulky arms.

Her heartbeat hammered as she stood, hands in the air, unsure of what to do. Part of her wanted to push him away; the other part wanted to know if his muscles were as cut as she thought they would be.

After a minute, he stood and turned from her. She stared at his hunched shoulders for a moment, unsure of what to say, so she walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind herself, locking it.

She turned the water on in the tub with shaking fingers, took off her dress, curled in a ball on the white marble floor, and sobbed.

Thirty minutes later, a knock on the door pulled her out of her bath.

"River, the food is ready," said Ares.

She wondered if he would try to open the door, but the handle didn't move.

"Thank you," she called.

She listened for his footsteps to recede before letting the water out of the tub and stepping onto a plush bathmat. She plucked a towel from the rack and tossed her hair up before tying a robe around herself.

She pulled the robe shut as much as possible and double-knotted the tie, not that it would stop him if he decided he wanted to take her.

When she left the bathroom, she found a table with beautiful china and a candelabra.

Her stomach roared. The outer door opened, and Ares returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of him. He'd removed his suit coat and dress shirt, revealing a white tank stretched as far as his muscles would let it go. He'd removed his belt, socks, and shoes and stood barefoot in the doorway as he ducked and turned sideways to enter. Even Zeke wasn't so tall as to have to do that.

"Feeling better?"

No. "Yes, thank you, Highness."

He shook his head and put the bottle and glasses on the table. "My name is Ares. Just Ares. Not Prince Ares. Not Highness or Majesty or anything else. I am Ares. Your Ares."

She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he considered himself 'Her Ares'. She didn't consider herself 'His River'.

"Sit." He pulled out the chair for her, and she crossed to the table and sat. He lifted her chair off the ground a few inches and moved her closer to the table.

Damn, he's strong. For a moment, she imagined what his skillful hands might do to her.

Her wolf chuffed at the thought of his wolf's strength. Protector. Provider. Mate .

No. Stop it! Don't think about him like that. He's a monster, and you are now his property. Nothing more.

He lifted the silver cover off her plate, and her mouth watered. A colossal steak, small potatoes, veggies, and more sat in front of her.

She dug in before Ares returned to his seat.

"I'm glad you're hungry," he said. "Because this is the first course."

The first course?

They ate silently for several minutes with Ares watching her devour everything on her plate. If this had been a first date with a regular shifter, she wouldn't have dared eat so much and so quickly, but hell, he was supposed to be her mate, right? Better he saw what he'd gotten himself into.

He poured champagne into her glass, and she gulped it down. He filled it again, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I'll be sure to tell the chef you enjoy his cooking," he chuckled.

She shrugged and snatched a fresh roll.

"So, tell me about yourself."

She gulped her champagne and the roll down hard.

"Why? In time, you'll find it all out anyway. No need to give it all up tonight."

His smile turned to a scowl. "Okay. Tell me one thing about yourself."

She tried to gauge whether he was genuinely interested or making conversation. His eyes gave nothing away, so she thought for a moment. "I don't like to be forced to do things I don't want to."

He growled. "Let me clarify. Tell me one thing about yourself I don't already know."

"How am I supposed to do that? Seems you found out about my show quite easily. You might have bought a file from the FBI and learned everything down to the color of the underwear I'm wearing."

"You aren't wearing underwear." He smirked.

River pulled her robe closer around her and crossed her legs. "See, you already know everything."

Ares slammed his fist on the table, shaking the glassware. She didn't jump; she was used to Cherry's outbursts. Instead, she moved the food around her plate and waited for him to say something.

Childish pup. Stubborn. Her wolf huffed.

River knew she acted like a petulant child but was too exhausted to care. He'd shown up, demanding she come with him back to Canada without asking what she wanted or getting her feelings on the subject. It was damn obvious he already wanted to bite her and make her his mate, but he hadn't once asked her opinion about the whole thing.

He took a long, slow breath and gave her a stiff smile.

"Tell me what made you choose metal as your medium for artistic expression."

His statement caught her off guard, and she popped a small potato into her mouth.

"My dad taught me how to work with my hands. He was a mechanic, and he had scraps of metal lying around. One day, I picked up a torch and started messing with a steel tube. I liked the way I bent it to my will and made it more beautiful than a plain piece of scrap metal that would have otherwise been thrown in the trash."

He watched her intently. Was he interested in her more than just to have sex with her to strengthen himself and his position as well as make her pop out babies?

"I heard your dad died. I'm so sorry. How did that happen?"

River's chest squeezed like a Victorian corset. "Uh... my dad was an Alpha but never wanted to lead. Even so, the Alpha of our pack felt threatened by him because our other pack members would turn to him for guidance and help. So, he set my dad up as a traitor and executed him in an unfair fight."

Ares stared at her. "I'm... so sorry."

She nodded. "Me too."

"I don't remember hearing anything like that. What happened to your Alpha?"

River licked her lips. "My mother took care of him."

River would never forget the night her mom came home covered in the Alpha's blood. She'd not said a word; just went into her room and closed the door. The next day, Strider and Bianca had come to live with them.

"What about you," she asked. "What do you do? Besides slaughtering shifters who step out of line?"

He lifted his champagne to his lips but stopped. "Is that what you think?"

"Am I wrong?"

He gulped down the champagne before folding his ample arms across. "No. But that's not all I do."

"Okay."

"Yes. My family is the law. We are the ruling class for the Lycan and shifter society. That isn't always a pleasant or fun job, River, but if we don't enforce the laws, imagine the chaos that would reign worldwide. It's only been in the last hundred years that we've convinced humans we don't exist. With all the unrest among the humans alone, what do you think would happen if the majority discovered shifters, Lycans, vampires, and more were real?"

Sadly, she couldn't argue with him.

"But to answer your question. I went to school for banking and securities. It has allowed my family to provide for ourselves and now for you."

"I don't want your money."

"Maybe, but you aren't complaining about the food. Or the bath. Or the imported bathrobe." Irritation seethed through his words.

"Would you like me to regurgitate the meal? I'd take the robe off, but I'm afraid of what you might take that as a sign of."

He raked his hands into his hair. "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"So…. Infuriating."

She tossed him her most winning smile and batted her eyelashes. "Yup."

He got up from the table and stormed to the door. He paused as he reached it and turned back.

"For the record, Little Wolf, you aren't the only one who didn't ask for this match. If I'd had my way, I would have been mated years ago to a submissive, soft mate who liked nothing more than keeping my bed warm and tending to our pups."

"Well," said River. "Too bad you're stuck with a bitch whose bite is worse than her bark. And I always have cold feet, so you might want to wear pants in bed."

He twisted the locked doorknob so hard it broke off, and the door swung inward. He slammed it behind himself, but it bounced open again.

River held back a laugh as he stormed out of sight.

She dropped her gaze to her plate, and her stomach roiled. Her wolf grumbled at her and curled into a ball.

"Don't talk to me," she said. "I didn't ask you for your opinion anyway."

Her wolf's fur bristled, and she turned away from River.

River sighed and lifted the bottle of champagne before heading to the bed and plopping down on it.

Perhaps he didn't want the mating bond as much as she had thought. The idea made her wolf whine.

River took a long swig of the champagne, knowing it wouldn't do anything to her. She pushed down the duvet and curled in a ball under the sheets.

A mate. She had a mate. A sinfully sexy, powerfully terrifying mate. And she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.