My Fated Mate doesn’t bother hiding her pride.
When the ring appeared on my hand, indicating the bond had officially taken root, she immediately fell to her knees to blow me in excitement. Gene was barely out of the pantry by the time my cock was in her mouth.
I look forward to putting something on her finger once we’re home.
And Krystie is safe.
And my worries can return to how to keep the mother of my future children happy rather than how to keep her from rebelling against my brother.
Getting from the lot we landed in to where they’re boarding the yacht occurs slower than it should. Ana’s lack of experience in strutting around for long periods of time in stilettos shows. The benefit is that it effortlessly sells the whole “cousin from a small town trying to live the Hollywood lifestyle” bullshit. Other event attenders think she’s “precious” – I.E. not a threat to anything they’re here for – and security members think she’s an easy target for fucking.
Inside the event, her acting skills are put to the test before we’ve even left the shore. She’s infinitely better than I thought. She has no problem pretending to be dumb or ditzy or letting Karry and I look like a cozy couple, while I, on the other foot, damn near shatter my cocktail glass every time someone breathes too close to her.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary or suspicious for what feels like hours.
We mingle – me where I can keep one eye at all times on the female that has me ready to sink this entire ship like the Titanic just to keep males from looking at her – and her all around the ship from front to back, secretly sweeping the entire territory for anything useful.
Our lack of leads begins to stir doubt in the worst ways.
What if Griff got it wrong?
What if he misread the date or delivery location?
What if it was a trap to have us here, a bit more defenseless?
Or what if it was a trap to see who had been digging into the files?
My mouth lowers to mention my concerns to Karry when what I believe to be a giant splash sound comes from the left side of the yacht.
“Some wave, huh?” Ana loudly states upon her approaching of the bar, being loud enough to collect eyes. “Or was that the wind?” She twirls one thick strand around her finger and dramatically pouts, chest protruded forward for more attention. “It’s my first time on a yacht. Is that obvious?”
The bartender licks his chops at her calling to my claws to come out to play, yet Karry begins tugging me in the opposite direction, “I think I’m drunker than I thought.”
I force myself to paint on a concerned expression. “Let’s step outside, babe. Get you some air.”
The guests we were talking to allow us an easy dismissal. Outside we casually wander towards the roped off area on the opposite end. Signs of “VIP Only” are posted all along the route near members of security who are standing guard; however, we continue to push onward. Pretend to be engaged in flirty moments that don’t warrant their gazes.
We approach the section as though we have no clue we’re not allowed in, only to be stopped by one of the two guards securing the situation.
“VIP guests only,” the one on the right announces.
“Um, I am VIP,” Karry pretends to fake an attitude while I glance over my shoulder to gauge who in security can still see us.
I give a slight extended neck to indicate we need to get them back just a smidge.
“Don’t you know who I am?!” She shrieks pushing on his figure, forcing him to retreat to avoid being touched again.
“Miss-”
“Don’t Miss me,” Karry belligerently barks prior to pointing a finger at the other guard. “And you! Why aren’t you telling him to let me in?! You know who I am.” She advances on him causing the male to step backwards as well. “I know you know!”
His sunglasses-covered face leans forward on a stern, “Miss-”
Having him now within striking distance but out of the other members’ direct sight leads to me throwing a punch into the middle of his nose, smashing what I know is not a decorative piece. The single eye occupying the bridge space twitches in agony while a hooked fisted blow is delivered to his ribs. Kicking him off the edge of the ship occurs only seconds before his partner pushes Karry out of the way to charge attack me. My slightly bent nature allows for me to flip him over my frame, sending him to meet the same fate of the first creature. Splash sounds aren’t made due to Ozsean’s giant dragon jaws receiving the bodies like a tasty treat for a hard night’s work. Howls of horror are brief, a courtesy created by the closed mouth crunching, and given appreciation in the form of a nod.
“Did you just feed some dude to a dragon?” Ana unexpectedly questions from behind me.
“No. I just fed a pair of cyclops to a dragon.”
“Cyclops?!”
“Yeah,” Karry replies as Ana arrives at her side. “They make for good security. At least half of the guards here are cyclops.”
“What?!”
“The ones with the sunglasses,” she casually explains. “Helps hide the third eye, which can move 360 and switch sides to the back of their head.”
My Fated Mate momentarily gawks. “Huh. Is that where the whole ‘eyes in the back of your head’ saying comes from?”
“It’s really just eye,” Karry corrects on a small shrug, “but since Sleepers have two, they naturally changed it.”
I do my best not to growl, “What the fuck are you doing out here?”
“Helping.” She glances off to the side where my cousin has sunk back into the water. “Or I mean I thought I was gonna fucking help.”
Relief and resentment roll into one giant grump. “You promised P-”
“That I wouldn’t fight a pack of wolves.” Ana devilishly smirks while checking the gun I’m reluctant to ask how she acquired. “Not security guards or apparently, cyclops.”
Karry lets the corner of her lips curl upward. “You know who she sounds like?”
“Don’t. Fucking. Say. It.”
Me.
I know she sounds like me.
Again, with the shit I love and hate and hate that I fucking love.
Suddenly sounds of feet moving around the deck have us swinging around the remaining roped off area to see not only a new batch of threats but the target we’re here to grab.
“Krystie!” Karry thoughtlessly calls out, sending all of the focus onto us rather than the young woman who was being inspected by her buyer.