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ADRIK

Emery is still naked beside me.

Sometime in the night, the embers went out. I dragged an unzipped sleeping bag over us to fend off the cold. Now, dawn is breaking, golden light coming through the trees, and my wife is glowing in the early morning light.

Her pink lips are partially open, her chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. The bruise on her cheek is turning green around the edges.

As I look at that mark, a truth settles in my mind. A simple truth, carved in stone.

If I ever see Pietro Volandri again, I’ll kill him.

I’ll kill anyone who hurts her. Including my own brother.

Emery rolls over and opens her eyes. They’re sleepy, barely open, but she’s looking right at me.

“Are you watching me sleep?” she mumbles, bemused.

I lie back and look into the tree canopy. “Just making sure you’re breathing. Did you know you snore?”

“I do not,” she says, unbothered. “No one has ever told me that.”

“Because no one had the opportunity.”

I feel her stiffen next to me. “You don’t know that.”

“Isn’t that what you told me? I’m the first person you’ve been with since—”

“But I’ve slept near other people,” she snaps, cutting me off. “And I sure as hell don’t snore.”

“You don’t know everything.”

She rolls onto her back, staring up into the same trees. “You don’t know everything.”

“I know you didn’t come for six years before you met me.”

“God,” she hisses. “Can you just—for God’s sake, we just woke up.”

I chuckle. “Does the truth bother you?”

“Only when it’s coming out of your mouth,” she says. “You use it like a weapon.”

“Because it is. Knowledge is power.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Not with me, anyway,” she says softly. “Knowledge can just be… knowledge. You can tell me things.”

“If I’m in sudden need of a therapy session, I’ll let you know.”

She sighs, but doesn’t say anything.

A distinct scratching sound behind us catches my attention. I sit up and look around, eyes narrowed, trying to hone my senses in on the sound. Then there’s a little voice.

“Mama?”

Isabella is awake. I can see the outline of Travis pawing at the tent door.

Emery stretches her arms over her head. The sleeping bag slips down, revealing her perfect, pert breasts. It takes every ounce of my restraint not to lean forward and suck a nipple in my mouth.

Maybe there’s enough time for us to fuck once more before—

“Mama?” Isabella calls again a little louder this time.

Emery didn’t hear her before, but she does now. She looks over at me and notices where my gaze is caught. She scrambles to grab the blanket and cover herself.

“I’ve already seen them,” I say, doing my best to sound unaffected, even though my cock is a steel fucking rod.

Emery sits up in a panic. “How long has Isabella been awake?”

“You heard the same thing I did. She just woke up.”

Our clothes are scattered on the ground around us. Emery rifles through the piles until she finds her bra and underwear, then gives me a critical glance.

“If you’re hoping I’ll turn my back, you’re wasting your energy.” I lean back, my arms folded behind my head. “Let the show commence.”

“You’re a pig.”

“No, I’m a wolf, remember?” I bare my teeth and laugh.

Her face and neck flush a deep red. Then, chin held high, she quickly sheds the blanket and stands up. “What’s the plan today?”

“I thought we’d stick around here for a few days. Take in the scenery. Fuck some more in the great outdoors.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why not?” I shrug. “You seemed to enjoy being wild last night.”

Understanding dawns and she narrows her eyes. “You’re not funny.”

“Agree to disagree.” I push the blanket off and reach for my boxers, enjoying the way Emery can’t seem to keep her eyes to herself. Two can play at that game, it seems. “Take care of Isabella and clean up the campsite. I’ll go look at the car.”

“You’re going to leave us here?” She glances around nervously as if she expects a grizzly bear to pounce out of the trees at any moment.

“You’ll be fine.”

She lifts her chin. “I know we will be. We can take care of ourselves.”

“Not from what I’ve seen,” I snort. “But I’ll be back before you can get yourselves into too much trouble.”

“Have I said you’re not funny already?” she asks. “Because you’re really not funny.”

“That’s because I wasn’t joking.” I pull my shirt over my head and start walking towards the road. “Watch out for the wolves.”

“Still not funny,” she calls after me.

I just smirk.

But my smirk is gone the moment I pop the hood on the car. I see the problem immediately: there’s a very deliberate hole bored into the radiator hose.

The car didn’t randomly break down on the road. Someone tampered with my engine. It was intentional.

And the only people with access to my vehicles are Bratva.

Which means someone working for me is a traitor.

My guess is someone wanted the car to fuck up so they could attack us on the road. Thankfully, I didn’t tell anyone where we were going and the leak was slower than they wanted. That alone is probably the only reason we weren’t attacked last night.

But the longer we stay here, the greater the chance is that we’ll be found.

“So many people to kill,” I mutter.

There’s a basic tool kit in the trunk, but I don’t have what I need to fix the damage. If I turn the car on now, it will just conk out again a few miles down the road. It’s as good as dead until I can get it repaired.

I slam the hood closed in disgust and head back to the campsite.

When I walk into the clearing, Isabella is lying on a blanket next to Travis. The dog has his head resting on her belly and Emery is feeding them both small bites of a sandwich.

She looks up when I appear. “Well?” she asks hopefully. “How’d it look?”


Tags: Naomi West Tasarov Bratva Romance