I roll my eyes. This makes him lean forward looking almost angry. “You should be shown daily how fuckin’ desirable you are, Amelia. Now that you’re mine, you’re gonna get shown multiple times a day and the only way you’ll be giving it to yourself is if I’m watching.”
I try to hide that it’s not easy to work down a swallow at that statement by snapping bitchily, “In my experience, big talk like that is rarely followed through on.”
“Watch ‘n see. I only write cashable checks, woman.”
I scoff. But he keeps going, gesturing to me, and now his tone has sharpened.
“You’re full of life, sensuality, beauty, fire. You were engaged to the wrong man.” Fire lights in his eyes. “Though it’s just as well. I wouldn’t have been happy if I’d brought you home with another man’s scent on what’s mine.”
After I blanch, I somehow manage to speak.
“How dare you!”
What a lame comeback, but I’m just about speechless.
“I dare because you’re mine,” Mason informs. “You still tryin’ to let on you have no questions, baby? Because clearly you’re not entirely clued-in to what’s happening here.”
“Nope. No questions,” I state, trying to go for impassive.
He tilts his head to the side; he’s trying to figure me out.
“Okay, fine, “ I concede. “But you asked for it. Here’s a dose of reality for you, Mason Quinn.”
His eyebrows jut up.
“This is only happening because my aunt paid for it. I never asked for it, neither did my sister. This is all the doing of a hopeless romantic who set the voodoo in motion for her two nieces before she died.”
“Explain,” he demands.
I pull in a deep breath and spill the rest of it. “She paid her fortune teller. I don’t know the details, but she used to go to one regularly. I found out last night after Ivy got kidnapped that my aunt wrote Mom a letter and that spelled this all out. She won the lottery way back when… but spent most of it on this. ” I twirl my index finger gesturing to the room, the situation. “So, there. That’s what this is. A purchased fake happy ending for us. I found out about the letter after my sister went missing and came to look for her, happening to run into you and here we are. Now, you might as well back off and let me go. Better yet, help me find Ivy so I can then figure out how to undo the magic. I’m not sure how you and your… people got caught up in this but that’s all this is.”
His silence has me searching his face.
He stares at me for a long moment, obviously processing what I’ve just revealed. And I’m almost sad, for some irrational reason. Maybe because now that he knows, I know this is undoubtedly about to end.
“There’s no undoing it. Whatever the reasons, it’s done,” he states.
This makes me flinch in surprise. “Uh… did you hear me?”
“I heard you.”
“You’re sure you heard all I just said? This isn’t fate. This is manipulation. Witchcraft is making you think I’m your happily ever after, that Ivy is the same for Tyson Savage.”
“I heard you, baby.” he states again. “Got good ears. You came through loud and clear.”
I blink a couple times.
He shrugs. “It’s done and despite the shit storm it’s caused, I have no problem with it since it means I have you.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me,” he states.
“I found my happily ever after already,” I advise.
“Bullshit.”
I rear back. What? He delivered that word like a slap.
“No, it’s true. I’m saying vows in less than two weeks.”
“You’re already married, Amelia. To me.”
“That’s ridiculous. Not only because I don’t know you, but also because if you think we’re married just because you say so…”
“Because I identified you as my mate, I gave you my mark, and I knotted you.”
“Knotted? Like tying the knot? Because unless I have amnesia, we did no such thing.”
“Exactly like that,” he declares. “Though instead of it being symbolic like in your world, the knot tying happens in this one. The knot formed on me while I was inside you and locked us together so we could mingle our essences while I gave you that claiming mark, took your blood into me and formed a bond that’s unbreakable.”
I shake my head rapidly. “Just because it means that to you doesn’t mean it means a thing to me. Now, my priority is my sister. After I know she’s okay, I’ll figure out how to get this undone. Unless you know how?”
“Don’t worry about your sister. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“I need to know she’s fine because I know it, not just because you say it,” I say. “She came home crying. She came over yesterday looking more devastated than I’ve ever seen Ivy in my life. She was an absolute wreck. And according to her upstairs neighbor, three men showed up, there was arguing, and then she was gone. I got there and her place was in shambles, looking like there was a struggle. I need to know if my sister is okay. Need.”