Chapter Forty-two
In the chamber downstairs, Beth turned off the shower, reached for a towel, and clonked her new engagement ring on the marble counter.
"Oh, not good. Really not good..." She cradled her hand, thinking she was lucky Wrath was upstairs checking on preparations for the ceremony. Although maybe that cracking sound had carried to the first floor.
She braced herself before she looked down, convinced she'd either knocked the ruby loose or taken a hunk out of the stone. But it was fine.
Not that she was in a big hurry to bash it around again. Never one for rings, she was going to have to get used to wearing the thing.
Would that all of life's little adjustments be so hard, she thought wryly. Fiancé slides a priceless hunk of geology on your finger. What a bummer.
She had to smile as she dried off. Wrath had been so proud to put that ring on her. He'd told her it was a gift from someone whom she'd meet tonight.
At her wedding.
She paused with the towel. God, that word. Wedding.
Who'd have ever thought she'd -
Someone knocked on the chamber door.
"Hello, Beth? Are you in there?" The unfamiliar female voice was muffled.
Beth drew on Wrath's robe and went over, but didn't open the door. "Yes?"
"It's Wellsie. I'm Tohr's shellan. I thought you might like someone to help you get through tonight, and I've brought a gown for you, in case you don't have one already. Well, I'm also just your average nosy female, so I wanted to meet you."
Beth cracked the door.
Whoa.
There was nothing average about Wellsie. She had flame red hair, a face like a Greco-Roman goddess, and an aura of total self-possession. Her bright blue gown set off her coloring like an autumn sky over changing leaves.
"Ah, hi," Beth said.
"Hi, yourself." Wellsie's sherry-colored eyes were shrewd without being cold. Especially as she started to smile. "Aren't you gorgeous. No wonder Wrath fell as hard as he did."
"Would you like to come in?"
Wellsie marched into the room, carrying a long flat box and a big bag. She gave off an air of being in charge, but somehow, she didn't seem pushy.
"Tohr almost didn't tell me what was going on. He and Wrath are in a thing."
"Thing?"
Wellsie rolled her eyes, shut the door from across the room, and put the box down on the coffee table.
"Males like them, they get all riled up and take a hunk out of each other every once in a while. It's inevitable. Tohr won't tell me what it's all about, but I can guess. Honor, prowess on the field, or us, their females." Wellsie flipped open the box, revealing folds of red satin. "They're good-hearted, our boys. But they can blow their stacks and say something stupid every now and again."
She turned and smiled. "Enough of them. Are you ready for this?"
Beth was normally reticent around strangers. But this straight-talking woman with the no-nonsense eyes felt like someone worth taking a gamble on.
"Maybe not." Beth laughed. "I mean, I haven't known Wrath for long, but he feels like he's mine. I'm going with my gut on this. Not my head."
"I was the same way with Tohr." Wellsie's face softened. "Took one look at him and I knew I was done for."
Her hand absently went to her stomach.
She's pregnant, Beth thought. "When are you due?"
Wellsie flushed, but it seemed to be out of anxiety more than happiness.
"Long time. A year. If I can hold it." She bent down and took out the gown. "So would you like to try this on? We're almost the same size."
The dress was an antique, with black beading over lace on the bodice and a tremendous waterfall of a skirt. The red satin positively smoldered, catching the light from the candles and holding the glow deep within its folds.
"That's... spectacular." Beth reached out and stroked the skirting.
"My mother had it made for me. I was mated in it almost two hundred years ago. We can skip the corset if you want, but I brought the petticoats. They're such fun. And listen, if you don't like it or have something else you were planning to wear, I will absolutely not take offense."
"Are you crazy? Like I'm going to turn that down so I can get married in my shorts?"
Beth gathered up the dress and nearly ran to the bathroom. Stepping into the gown was like stepping back in time, and when she came back out into the chamber, she couldn't stop herself from fluffing the skirt. It was a little tight in the bodice, but she didn't care if she never took a full breath.
"You look great," Wellsie said.
"Yeah, because this is the most beautiful thing I've ever had on. Can you do the last buttons up the back?"
Wellsie's fingers were cool and quick. When she was finished, she tilted her head to one side, clasping her hands together. "You do it justice. The whole red-and-black combo really works with your hair. Wrath's going to pass out when he sees you."
"Are you sure you want to lend it to me?" What if she spilled on the thing?
"Clothes are meant to be worn. And that gown hasn't been on a body since 1814." Wellsie checked her diamond watch. "I'm going to go upstairs and see how the prep's coming. Fritz is probably going to need help. The brothers sure know how to eat, but their kitchen skills are deplorable. You'd think they'd be better with knives, considering what they do for a living."
Beth turned around. "Give me a hand undoing these buttons and I'll go with you."
After helping her out of the dress, Wellsie hesitated.
"Listen, Beth... I'm happy for you. I truly am. But I feel like I should be honest. Having one of these males as a mate isn't easy. I hope you'll call me if you need someone to vent to."
"Thanks," Beth said, thinking she actually might do that. She could see Wellsie giving good advice. Probably because the woman looked like she had everything under control in her own life. She just seemed so... competent.
Wellsie smiled. "And maybe I'll be able to call you once in a while, too. God, I've waited so long to have someone to talk to who understands."
"None of the other brothers have wives, right?"
"You and I are it, dearie."
Beth smiled. "So we'd better stick together."
Wrath went upstairs, wondering who'd slept where. He knocked on one of the guest room doors, and Butch answered. The human was drying his hair with a towel. Had another wrapped around his waist.
"You know where V is?" Wrath asked.
"Yeah, he's shaving." The cop nodded over his shoulder and stepped aside.
"You need me, boss?" V called out from the bathroom.
Wrath chuckled. "Well, isn't this cozy."
The "fuck off" came from both of them as Vishous sauntered into the bedroom, boxers hanging low on his hips. His cheeks were white, and he was dragging an old-fashioned razor across his jawbone. Both his hands were bare.
Oh, man. V's left hand was actually in the breeze, its sacred tattoos spelling out the dire consequences if anyone came into contact with it. Wrath wondered whether the human had any conception what V could do with that thing.
Probably not, or the cop wouldn't be so damned relaxed dancing around the room half-naked.
"So, V," Wrath said, "there's a little issue I need to settle before I'm mated."
Usually he worked alone, but if he was going to take care of Billy Riddle, he wanted Vishous as backup. Humans didn't obligingly disintegrate when you stabbed them, but his brother's left hand would take care of the body. Work of a moment and that corpse would be ether.
V grinned. "Give me five and I'm ready."
"Good deal." Wrath could feel Butch's eyes on him. Clearly, the guy wanted to know what was up. "You don't want to get tangled in this one, cop. Especially given your vocation."
"I'm off the force. Just so you know."
Interesting, Wrath thought. "Mind telling me why?"
"I broke a suspect's nose."
"In a fight?"
"During questioning."
Somehow that was not a surprise. "Now why'd you do that?"
"He tried to rape your future wife, vampire. I wasn't inclined to be gentle when he said she was asking for it."
Wrath felt a growl come out of his throat. The sound was like a living thing as it rose up from his gut. "Billy Riddle."
"Beth told you about the guy?"
Wrath stalked to the door. "Haul ass, V," he snapped.