I Belong To My Fiancé’s Enemy Brother

I didn't move.

His arm was iron across my stomach. I could feel every ridge of muscle through my hoodie, and he wasn't even trying. One hand. Barely any pressure. It held me anyway.

But that wasn't what stopped me cold.

It was the smell.

I'm wolfless. My whole life, scents have reached me faint and flat, like music through a closed door. Bianca was right. I never smell anyone coming.

I smelled him.

Cedar. Smoke. Underneath it, something warm and dark, like rain hitting hot stone. It poured into my lungs and went straight down my spine. My knees softened. Heat bloomed low in my belly, and my pulse started racing for no reason I could name.

No. Not for no reason.

I'd heard the stories. Every pup in Ironvale had. Two souls cut from the same cloth. One breath of each other and the world tilts.

Fated mates.

That was for real wolves. Not for me.

"Mr. Thorne." My voice came out thinner than I wanted. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm your brother's fiancée. Please watch your behavior."

I twisted against his grip.

His arm tightened. Not rough. Just certain, like he'd already decided where I was going to stand.

"You smell it," he said.

Not a question.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar." A soft laugh warmed the back of my neck. "Your heart just skipped. I can hear it."

"Maybe I'm scared. A stranger grabbed me on the sidewalk."

"You're not scared." He shifted, and his chin nearly brushed my temple. "Scared smells different."

"Hollis." I craned my head toward the old man. "Are you going to do something?"

Hollis studied the sky with great interest. "The weather is lovely this morning, miss."

Unbelievable.

"Let me ask you something, Miss Maddox." Damien's tone dropped, smooth and patient. "Where do you think my little brother is right now?"

My jaw clenched.

"Not here," he went on. "Not on your doorstep with flowers. Not calling to explain. He's in that same house, probably in that same room, with his hands on that same she-wolf." He paused. "And you're out here shaking with anger over him. Tell me. Is he worth it?"

The words landed like a slap.

I'd spent all night telling myself I wasn't waiting for Caleb's call. I'd checked my phone eleven times anyway.

Then Damien's fingers slid into my damp hair.

Slowly. He combed through a wet strand, from my scalp to the very tip, like he was learning the weight of it. A shiver raced down my arms. Every place he touched lit up, bright and humming.

My heart wasn't racing anymore. It was pounding. Hard enough that I was sure he could feel it through my back.

Something deep inside me pulled toward him. It felt like a hook set under my ribs, and the line ran straight into his chest.

"Stop that," I whispered.

"Stop what?"

"You know what."

"I'm just fixing your hair." His thumb grazed the curve of my ear. "You came out in a hurry."

I squeezed my eyes shut. This was insane. I was standing on a public street in a hoodie and sneakers, wrapped in the arms of a man I'd met ninety seconds ago. His brother had kissed another woman in front of me twelve hours ago.

And my body wanted to lean back.

"What do you want?" I forced out. "You came here for a reason. Say it."

"You broke my vase."

"I heard. Five million dollars." I let out a brittle breath. "Do you want a check? My family can cover it."

"I don't want your family's money."

"Then what?"

"You broke it. So you owe me." He said it simply, like he was reading terms off a contract. "Not your parents. You."

"Fine. What do you want me to do?"

A long beat of silence. His fingers drifted out of my hair and settled on my shoulder.

"I haven't decided yet."

I almost laughed. He'd dragged me out of my house, ambushed me on the sidewalk, and wrapped himself around me like he owned the air I breathed. And he hadn't decided.

The Thorne brothers. Both of them, so sure the world would wait while they made up their minds.

Caleb's face flashed behind my eyes. That lazy grin. *You're the price of a treaty, Aria.* His mouth on Bianca's while his eyes stayed glued to mine. Daring me to do something about it.

Okay, Caleb.

I'll do something about it.

He got to have his fun. He got to break things and walk away clean. Why should I be the only one who kept her hands folded and her promises kept?

I turned in Damien's arms.

He let me. That surprised me more than anything. His grip loosened just enough for me to spin around, and suddenly I was facing him. Those pale gray eyes. That scar slicing through his brow. Up close, he looked less like a man and more like a storm someone had buttoned into a coat.

I grabbed the front of that coat, rose up on my toes, and kissed him.

It was clumsy. Hard. Angry.

For half a second, he didn't move at all.

Then the pull inside me snapped tight, and the world tipped sideways. Heat flooded me from scalp to heels. My fingers curled into the fabric of his coat. I felt something rumble in his chest, low and rough, a sound that wasn't quite human.

He had a wolf. And his wolf knew me.

I broke away first, gasping. My lips tingled. My whole body buzzed like a struck bell.

"How about that?" I said. "Does that cover it?"

Damien looked down at me. His face gave away nothing. But his pupils had swallowed almost all the gray.

"I never take payment in flesh, Miss Maddox."

His voice was calm. Too calm. Like a frozen lake that sounds solid right up until it cracks.

A bitter little smile tugged at my mouth. Of course. Even this, I got wrong. Caleb didn't want me. His brother didn't want me either. The wolfless Omega, rejected twice in one day. My mother would frame the moment.

But under the sting, something sharper rose up. Something that tasted like iron.

I was tired of being the one who wasn't wanted.

I lifted my hand and traced the corner of his mouth with my thumb. Right where my kiss had left it slightly damp. His jaw went rigid under my touch.

He didn't pull away.

"You can say that," I murmured, "but I felt it. Your wolf. I'm not the only one who smells it."

His throat moved as he swallowed.

"I know you want this too, Damien."

It was the first time I'd said his name. It came out soft and dangerous, and I watched it hit him.

Something flickered across his face. Not anger. Not amusement. Something raw, gone almost before I caught it.

Then his hand closed around my wrist. Firm. Hot.

He drew my palm away from his lips, slowly, and pressed it flat against his chest. Under my fingers, his heart was hammering just as hard as mine.

"Careful, little Omega," he said quietly. "You have no idea what you just started."