6. Brielle

The smoky haze of the Rusty Pine Tavern clung to my skin like a second layer, infusing every breath with the bitter tang of stale beer and cigarette smoke. My fingers traced the condensation on the glass, the only outward sign of the whirlwind raging inside me. One sip of whiskey scorched my throat, a welcome burn to numb the ache of betrayal that had taken root.

How could he keep this from me?

How could all of them?

Shifters existed. Which opened the door on all sorts of spooky, kooky creatures. Vampires? Witches? Bigfoots and Nessies and probably little green men, too.

I couldn't trust the person serving my drink in Crescent Hollow would be human. I eyed the Rusty Pine bartender from under my lashes. Could I really trust him, when they walked and talked and fucked like humans?

And that didn't even touch the deep wound in my soul about my father's murderous tendencies. Just throw it on the fucking pile of shit my family buried Cassidy under.

He'd tried to kill her. He'd succeeded in killing someone Orion knew.

All those business trips he wouldn't take Mom or us girls on, every last whispered phone call behind a locked door… Had they all been plans for death?

I took another swig of the whiskey and embraced the burn.

The door swung open, a gust of crisp mountain air sweeping through the dimly lit tavern. My gaze snapped up instinctively, drawn like a magnet to the broad-shouldered silhouette filling the doorway. Orion. Of course it was him. My pulse hammered against my ribs as our eyes locked, the world narrowing until all I could see was the bright green of his stare.

My grip tightened around the glass as he started towards me, his gait unhurried yet purposeful. I couldn't have fled even if I'd wanted. Each step dragged me into his gravity, holding me trapped in his orbit.

I steeled myself as he neared, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin in a show of defiance. Bracing a hand on the back of my seat and the other to the table, Orion leaned in close.

His scent enveloped me—pine and earth mingled with something raw and primal. I tried to swallow the knot in my throat, to find the fire that fueled my defiance, but it sputtered against the tangled mess in my head.

"Brielle, we need to talk." His voice was a low rumble, the words stirring something deep within me that made me want to give him everything he asked.

I clenched my jaw, summoning my last ounce of willpower to keep from crumbling. "And what could you possibly have to say that I'd want to hear?"

Orion's jaw set, a muscle ticking as the rejection landed. He leaned in closer, his body a solid wall of heat that I had to resist melting against. "Fuck, Brielle. Can you just listen for a minute? I'm here because there are things you need to know. About me, about all of this."

"What? Like how my father is some—" I searched for the right term, the very notion still so foreign, "—hunter? Or that you, what, turn into a wolf?" The absurdity of the words made my voice rise. I scoffed. "Which, by the way, totally messes with my head."

The murmur of the bar died down as ears strained to listen. My cheeks burned at the sharp glance from the bartender. A couple at the bar took too close of an interest in our little chat.

But no one said a word to me or Orion.

Orion glanced over his shoulder, his expression darkening as he turned back to me. "Not here," he commanded.

Before I could protest, he clamped a hand around my wrist, fingers searing my skin as he dragged me to my feet. I yanked on my arm, shoved at his hand, but he didn't let loose until he pushed me into the chilly night air.

And still, no one said a damn word.

Orion shot around the building and shoved me against the rough brick wall. He leaned in close enough for our noses to brush, then growled low in his throat. "You can't go talking like that when you don't know who's listening."

The husky rasp of his voice sent a shiver racing down my spine. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do," I hissed, straining against the delicious heat of his body pinning me in place.

"You think this is a game?" His words dripped with a mixture of exasperation and something darker, more feral. "One word in the wrong ear could mean someone's death, Brielle. Do you understand that?"

His grip on my wrist tightened, bordering on painful.

"Understand?" I spat the word, reckless defiance surging through me. "I just learned my father is a killer of a world that exists in movies and fairy tales. No, I don't fucking understand any of this! I'm trying very hard to believe it's an elaborate prank!"

A muscle ticked in Orion's chiseled jaw and when he spoke again, his words squeezed through gritted teeth.

"My existence is not a prank." He released my wrist, his palm sliding along my arm in a scorching caress until his fingers threaded into my hair, anchoring my stare to his. "The danger to my life, my pack, the Hollow pack, is all very real. Your father's been hunting us, and now his associates are after you, and I will not let them take another person from my life."

The weight of Orion's stare pinned me against the rough brick wall. My chest constricted, each ragged breath more labored than the last.

I didn't want to believe him.

I couldn't ignore the truth.

Orion must have sensed my distress. His free hand settled at my waist, the solid anchor of his touch grounding me as the world spun. "I know it's a lot to take in," he murmured, his voice a low rumble of unexpected tenderness. "But you're in this now, and I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Unlike my father who left me to the, well, wolves.

My throat worked convulsively as I sought to find my voice. When the words finally emerged, they sounded fragile, stripped of the bravado I'd been clinging to. "Why? Why are you so invested in my life?"

A flicker of something primal flashed in Orion's eyes, his gaze darkening as he leaned in closer, our breath mingling. "Because," he said, lips whispering against mine, "you're my mate."

The word hung between us, heavy and laden with implications I couldn't fully comprehend. But it struck a chord within me, the note cutting through the chaos. My breath hitched in my throat, my pulse thundered in my ears, and I searched Orion's face.

For a lie, for a joke.

But there was none. Only raw, unwavering desire.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry as I struggled to find my voice. "What does that even mean?" I rasped, hating the vulnerability that crept into my tone.

"It means you're mine." Orion's thumb traced the line of my jaw, his touch lifting the fine hairs up and down my body. "And I'm yours. Two halves of a whole, brought together by fate."

A tremor coursed through me at the certainty in his words. Part of me wanted to recoil and reject the very notion of being bound to anyone or anything. But a deeper part, a part I had long since buried, wanted that promise. I wanted the belonging and being accepted as myself, not an extension of my father.

Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, I found myself leaning into Orion's solid warmth. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor myself against the swirling madness of my thoughts.

Fate had other plans for me.

My tongue darted out, wetting lips suddenly parched with want. Orion's pupils flared, the green of his eyes blazing with an otherworldly light that sent a shiver racing down my spine. His fingers tightened in my hair, tilting my head back as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across my lips.

I should have pulled away. Put distance between us before this went any further. Before I crossed a line there was no coming back from.

I rose up on my tiptoes instead.

Orion inhaled sharply as my lips brushed against his, the ragged sound vibrating through me and stoking the flames licking at my insides.

His free hand found my waist, fingers splaying possessively as he crushed me against the hard line of his body. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, the feral sound sending a tremor coursing through me.

Then his lips were moving insistently over mine, his tongue sweeping along the seam of my lips in a wordless demand for more that I gladly met.