Zephyr
Zephyr stood in front of the mirror, watching herself in the cute white sundress with embroidered flowers, her sister’s reflection in a pale green dress behind her.
“I can’t believe you’re marrying Alpha,” Zen whispered, her voice reflecting the disbelief of her words. “Your Alpha.”
Her Alpha.
She couldn’t believe it either.
There was a slight twinge in her heart because her mother had refused to attend what she’d called ‘this farce of a wedding’. She was still processing the news of her breakup, much less her nuptials, and Zephyr didn’t entirely blame her. It was fast. But not to her; she’d been waiting for this over a decade. Although she’d never imagined marrying him in a courthouse while being a stranger to him. In a way, she was glad it would just be Zen with her. Knowing everything her sister knew, Zephyr wouldn’t have to pretend anything with her.
A knock on the door had her heartbeat tripling.
“Calm down,” she told herself out loud as Zen went to open the door. She straightened her dress for the last time, tucked her wavy burgundy hair back in her low bun, fixed her fringe, fidgeting
The door opened and he filled the frame, his large body in a black leather jacket and jeans—of course, he’d wear leather and jeans to their wedding—and that eye patch, and dear lord, he was fine. Zen, seeing him for the first time, froze. Yeah, she could imagine he had that effect on people.
Zephyr quickly covered the distance between them, going on her toes to kiss the scar at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, sexy.”
The other side of his lip twitched, his golden eye taking her in her dress. She took a step back and twirled for him, showing him the deep back, and stopped in a pose. “How do I look?”
“Fine,” he grunted. “We’re getting late.” With that, he turned on his heel and went down the stairs. Zephyr rolled her eyes.
“Zee,” Zen asked from the side, her face slightly apprehensive. “He’s… a lot. Are you sure?”
He was a lot. Moreover, Zephyr knew she was stepping into a world she knew nothing about, a world she’d only seen from the fringers from her time spent volunteering. The more she’d dug, the more she’d realized he was lethal. But he was also the boy who’d walked her five miles to her home in the middle of winter just so she’d get there safely.
Zephyr gave her sister a quick hug. “He’s still my Alpha, Zen.” She believed that. No matter how much time had passed, deep in her soul she believed that.
Zen inhaled, knowing what that meant to her, and nodded, putting a smile on her lips. “Okay. Flowers. Let’s go.”
They both got their bags and flowers and went down the stairs to the waiting black Rover, Hector in the driver’s seat, checking Zen out. Alpha waited outside. He opened the passenger side’s door for Zen, shut it, then turned to her, seeing the way her dress hugged her. Sighing, he picked her up casually by her hips, and put her in the backseat, closing the door behind her.
God, she loved it when he did that, picked her up like she weighed nothing when the entire world had shoved an entirely contrary belief down her throat. It made her feel delicate, small, and so precious, and Zephyr rarely felt that around people.
He got in and Hector started the drive. “The lawyer will meet us at the courthouse,” he informed them. “All the documents are ready.”
Zephyr nodded, watching the man on the other end of the wide seat, his eye patch and scarred the side toward her.
Zen gave her a look in the rearview mirror, before turning to him. “Hi, Mr. Villanova,” she introduced herself in her most professional voice. “We haven’t met. I’m Zephyr’s sister, Zenith. You can call me Zen.”
“Alpha please,” he corrected her in a soft tone. “We’ll be family soon.”
Oh, she liked the sound of that a lot. Yes, they would be family. It made Zephyr smile.
The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. Zephyr looked out at the city she loved, seeing people going about their lives in the early morning, and it filled her with joy. Everything filled her with joy right then. All seemed right in the world. She remembered the first time she’d talked to him. It hadn’t been planned. She’d been stuck one night in the bad part of town after her friend had ditched her. She’d gone there because she liked to check up on him, and he’d been there when she’d been walking the street alone, the young man with golden eyes and the deep voice, speaking to her for the first time—
The car came to a stop outside the white courthouse building.
Shaking herself out of the memories, Zephyr opened the door, and he was there before she could get down, picking her up and placing her on her feet, his hands huge on her hips, her nose level with the middle of his ribs. God, he made her feel tiny, and she loved that.
His hands clenched on the sides of her hips, and she looked up at him, locking her eyes with his golden gaze, mourning the loss of the place his other eye had been. He held her chin in that sure way she’d always associate with him, his face fierce. “Last chance, rainbow.”
There was no way she was backing out.
“Cold feet, handsome?” she teased him with a grin, and his gaze strayed to her mouth. Inhaling, he let her go and took a step back, indicating the wide, low steps of the courthouse. Heart pounding, she took her bouquet of deep red roses and climbed up with her sister, Alpha and Hector following at their heels.
Zephyr had seen the courthouse many times in passing but had never been inside. A man her father’s age waited for them at the top, dressed in a sharp, expensive suit. He escorted them to a sparsely furnished but folder-filled chamber and indicated the seat. For the next few minutes, he explained the contract to them. Basically, they were both to marry for six months, after which she would be given access to her grandmother’s treasury and he would be given whatever information she had on him. If they chose to divorce afterward, Zephyr wouldn’t get anything from him, and he from her. If the marriage wasn’t consummated, which she’d try her damndest to get done, they could annul it at any time.
If it was up to her, they’d never grace the courthouse again.
Giving the contract a cursory glance, she signed at the bottom.
Alpha picked up the pen, his eye squinting, and signed his name.
With that done, the lawyer sealed the contract and locked it in a cabinet. A clerk escorted them to another room, one with the officiant, and they stood as he got the papers ready.
Watching the black leather jacket stretching across her husband-to-be’s back as he bent and signed the documents, Zephyr felt something like nerves fluttering in her belly. The leather jacket, the eye patch, the longish, disheveled hair, the short scruff—lord, he was sexier now. She was taking a huge risk, and she didn’t know if it would pay off. She didn’t know what their future looked like, or how she’d fit into his world and he in hers. But god, she’d try, and she’d die knowing that she tried, that she gave it her all. If it never worked out, she didn’t want to regret never taking the risk in the first place. She just hoped heartache didn’t wait for her.
“Sign here, please,” the clerk’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She bent over and quickly signed on the dotted line, sealing their deal in the most binding way for half a year.
“Do you have any rings to exchange?” the clerk asked.
Alpha looked at her hands, the vein on the side of his neck popping. It hadn’t even occurred to him clearly that she’d need a ring. Guess she’d have to get one herself.
Zephyr waved it off. “Don’t worry about it.”
Zen handed her the simple gold band she’d bought yesterday for him, taking a guess at his size, hoping it fit. She took a hold of his large hand in hers, saw the contrast between them—his larger, rougher, deadlier, with blunt tips, hers smaller, softer, rounder, with slightly longer painted nails—and slid the ring home.
He was hers.
Finally.
The joy bubbled in her heart, a wide smile splitting her face as she looked up at him. Impulsively, she went to her toes, and pressed a soft kiss on his scar, right at the corner of his mouth. One day, he would turn his face and catch her lips with his. One day, he would kiss her on his own and she would bask in the beauty of it. Until then, she’d pepper him with kisses.
A throat cleared, and she pulled back.
“Witnesses, please sign here.”
Hector and Zen stepped up and completed the protocols, and then it was done.
She was Zephyr Villanova.
Damn.
She looked at Zen and saw the same happiness she was feeling reflected in her sister’s eyes. She knew, she understood what this moment meant. Her sister grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze, and Zephyr squeezed back. Alpha watched with interest, and she knew he was trying to figure out her reasons. She watched with interest as Hector stared at her sister, clearly lining what he saw.
Once the clerk was done with the paperwork, they all exited the building.
“I’ll get to work.” Zen gave her a hug.
Zephyr saw Alpha watching them embrace, his look blank of any expression. But the way he watched, it almost looked like… longing. Zen turned to Alpha and gave him a nod. “Welcome to the family.”
She saw his face soften slightly at her sister’s words.
Hector took over. ‘I’ll get you a cab.’ He went down to the road with her, giving them some privacy.
“Have you told your parents?” Alpha asked as they stood on the steps in broad daylight. She noticed how the people passing by stopped to gawk at her husband, because of his size or scars or missing eye, she didn’t know, but she didn’t like the way they looked, like he was something lesser than they were.
“Hmm,” she mumbled distractedly, giving a woman to her right who’d been staring at him a glare. “Hey, can I help you with something?”
The woman stuttered something and left quickly.
Zephyr turned back to the man before her, surprised to find him somewhat amused while she fumed. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head, pushing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “When should I meet them?”
Zephyr blinked for a second, her brain catching up to their conversation. “Oh. Oh. Tomorrow. Zen and I are going there tonight after I pack for the trip. I’ll take my bag. She’ll stay with them while I’m out of town. We can head to the airport straight after because my parents are romantics and think we’re marrying out of love and my mom is skeptical about the suddenness of it so she’ll interrogate you and we’ll have an excuse to get out—”
“Breathe,” he told her again and she stopped.
Okay.
God, he was hers.
It hit her out of nowhere. Impulsively, she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, exhaling a shaky breath against his chest. He stilled, his arms at his sides, holding her biceps with his large hands, not embracing her but not rebuffing, confused.
She’d seen the way he’d looked at her hugging Zen, and she wondered if anyone hugged him anymore. She wondered when was the last time he’d been embraced with love, and held him tighter. Hugs were her thing. People loved her hugs. If hugging was a contest she’d surely be a runner-up. So she’d hug him. Every day, she’d hug him until he returned it, until he accepted that it was normal, until he began to crave it from her.
She’d break down his defenses, one hug at a time.
All in good time.
Happy birthday, Zephyr Villanova.
