Kings of Anarchy (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #3) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,137

deadly thing and I knew I had just married a hunter and I would always be his choice of prey.

"Are you happy, Mrs Roscoe?" he teased, an edge to his voice that gave away the wolf lurking beneath his skin.

"Yes, for the first time in a long time I feel happy," I admitted.

"Your pa would have hated you marrying a piece of shit like me, though," he pointed out and I shook my head in refusal of that.

"He was protective, so he would have liked someone else being protective of me too. I think he would have liked you, Kyan. A lot. Once he got past the leather jackets, the tattoos and the bullshit, that is." I didn't say it with any sadness, not letting in any pain on this day. Crazy as it was, I just wanted to enjoy it. I'd never seen myself getting married. If I had planned it, I probably would have eloped to Vegas. Nah, screw Vegas actually, I'd pick Hawaii.

He scoffed like it wasn't possible, but his eyes brightened like he quietly appreciated my words. We made it back to The Temple and I moved to walk beside Kyan, wondering how the other Night Keepers would react to this. Blake and Monroe would probably laugh and Saint would probably be more pissed about the fact that I'd missed making him dinner. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

Kyan swept me off my feet before I made it to the door, carrying me in his arms like a baby and I gasped in surprise as the skirt of my wedding dress swept up around my legs in the wind.

"What are you doing?" I laughed.

"Carrying you over the threshold, baby. I wanna start this marriage right," he said with grit to his tone. He was taking this pretty damn seriously and I couldn’t say I hated that.

He all but kicked the door open, carrying me inside and I tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he wouldn't let me go, rounding into the lounge where Monroe and Blake had gotten up from their seats with their mouths wide. Saint was... "Where's Saint?" I asked.

"Here," he growled, materialising like a freaking spectre from the dark stairway that led to his room as he took in my dress, his eyes calculating, assessing, denying.

"So, we have some news," I said, still laughing.

Kyan placed me down at last, taking my hand and winding his fingers between mine, his expression deadly serious.

"Well?" Where the fuck have you been? And why is Tatum wearing that?" Saint snarled, jerking his chin at my beautiful dress.

Monroe and Blake exchanged a glance of horror and confusion, putting two and two together.

"So, basically...Kyan's family have this rule where-" I started but Kyan cut over me.

"We got married. Tatum is my wife," he said possessively and I glanced at him, snorting a laugh as I tried to catch his eye, but he didn't meet my gaze. O...kay. Way to drop a bomb Kyan.

"What?" Monroe asked sharply while Blake frowned, looking for the joke. But there wasn’t one to find.

“What do you mean married?" Saint hissed and Kyan yanked my hand up, showing them all the ring as evidence. Saint physically recoiled like he’d struck him as he took in the skull on it.

"The thing is, we had to-" I started again, but Kyan barrelled over me, taking the carefully folded marriage certificate from his pocket and offering it to Saint.

"Here's the proof. It's iron clad. Catholic service, real nice priest, wasn't he baby?" He looked to me with a smirk, but there was a glint in his eyes which unsettled me.

"Yeah, but we had to rush be-" I started again, but Saint cut over me this time.

"What the fuck is this, Kyan?" Saint waved it at him and Kyan snatched it back, tucking it neatly into his pocket.

"It's proof that Tatum Rivers is now Tatum Roscoe. My wife. Mine," he growled and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Kyan..." I tried to catch his eye again, but he wouldn't look at me. His shoulders were like a wall as he glared at the others, waiting for this to sink in. And panic suddenly seized me. Just because I’d married him didn’t mean I belonged to the others any less. Did he think I was choosing him over them? Because I wasn’t able to do that.

"You're having us on, right?" Blake released a weak laugh. "She's not - you wouldn't have-"

"I did," Kyan said smugly then grabbed me, lifting