The Wrong Bride (Kings of Fury #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Fury Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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Callen remained rooted, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Nose in the air, I swept past him. He caught up with me, projecting annoyance but no longer fuming. In the hall, I expected to run into Buzz. The bodyguard was long gone.

“Did the messenger threaten me?” I asked as I walked side by side with Callen. Was that the real reason he insisted I go with him today?

“Tavish loathes my existence and seeks to hurt me through you. His messenger came with a list of various ways a mortal can be harmed.”

Great! Another threat to my wellbeing. But why hadn’t Tavish struck while he’d had the opportunity? “Why does the wolf king hate you so much?”

Both of Callen’s brows winged up. “Do you truly need a history lesson?”

Yes! But I didn’t push. “If Tavish is so dangerous, why not send me to another country, out of his reach?” Might as well go there while I had the chance.

“That will never happen,” Callen grated.

“Why not?” We descended the staircase. “I get that you expect me to soothe you or whatever, but you got by just fine for years without me. I’m sure you’d enjoy a little time apart from the spouse you despise.”

Stiffness infiltrated his posture. “Our bargain guarantees I don’t have to get by.” Resentment dripped from his tone. “You are mine. I keep what’s mine.”

Flutters erupted deep in my belly. How was I supposed to respond to that? I wasn’t his, and he definitely wasn’t mine. “What else did the messenger say?”

“Say? Nothing. I donna converse with wolves and their minions. I kill them. I only saw the list when I checked his body.”

Shock and horror converged, and I gaped at him. Callen had offered the statements so casually, as if we were discussing the weather. Other thoughts attempted to surge, but I misjudged the last step and tripped, stumbling. He swooped in, winding an arm around my waist and catching me. Our gazes met. My heart rate spiked. Being wrapped against a strong, capable man, safeguarded rather than steeped in peril, was nice. Beyond nice. It was downright amazing.

Eyes wide, I softly asked, “While we’re together, can you at least try to be my friend?” Since we were going to be together, I might as well advance my charm him plan.

“We are not friends.” His ferocity sent a blast of ice through my limbs.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “You’re right. We’re not. But we could be.” Straightening, I attempted to pull from his clasp but he held firm. “We should go.”

He launched into a faster stride, maintaining contact as we exited the house. His powerful body shielded me from any lurking danger, and some of my upset faded. He might not want to be friends, but this protective gesture said more than his words.

Red alert, red alert! Uh-oh. Fluttery heart, check. Short-circuiting brain and thickening tongue, check, check. Attraction was attempting to bloom again, wasn’t it?

He’d just admitted to killing a man. Or wolf. Whatever! He was supposed to soften toward me, not the other way around. I had no business admiring him.

I focused on the cool, heather-scented breeze. The bright glow of the sun. The flock of birds passing overhead. Anything but the man at my side.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bruce.” The driver rushed to open a car door for me.

“Good morning,” I returned, climbing into the backseat and buckling.

“Uisge ciùin, Mr. Bruce.”

“Uisge ciùin, Angus.”

I stiffened as Callen settled in beside me. Ugh. Close quarters with his delectable scent; exactly what I hadn’t needed.

Silence reigned as we rolled past the stone wall surrounding the property, now peppered with double the number of armed guards. Five minutes ticked by…then thirty…an hour. I spent the time ignoring seven calls from Isobel. When she decided to talk, she didn’t let up. Well, let her stew!

I was about to face Callen’s however-many-employees. What should I know? What if I said the wrong thing? Acted the wrong way? What would they think of my “fake” American accent?

When I could stand the suspense no longer, I blurted out, “Remind me if I’ve ever been to your office before.”

“You have not.” He worked his jaw. What he didn’t do? Fidget with his ring. “Why don’t I explain how this will go.” A statement, not a question. “You will touch nothing, showcase your best behavior at all times, and remain at my side unless otherwise commanded.”

Worry shed from me. No history with the employees and no forced interactions with others? Phew. As for his expectations, irritation spiked. “And if I touch something or make a mistake? What will you do?”

“There’s no reason to discuss if.” He adjusted a cuff link. “You’ll do what you’re told.”

Oh, that burned. Did I really want to press the issue with a berserker, though?

Well. Yeah. As a teacher, I utilized three failproof rules. Set boundaries from the start, beginning as you hoped to end. Plainly state consequences for bad behavior, and consistently follow through.


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