MATED TO FATHER, FAT Chapter 56: LET’S RUIN HER

Chapter 56: LET’S RUIN HER

RYKER

The problem with Rowan was that just as he could read through my bullshit, I could read through his. And this had nothing to do with our dear old dad, had nothing to do with pack law or duty or any of the excuses he was using to convince himself his concern was purely practical.

This was about the fact that Rowan wanted Amaris just as badly as I did and it terrified him.

"Do you know what I think?" I asked.

"Tell me Ryker," Rowan responded, crossing his arms. "What do you think?"

"I think you are actually moving your marriage to Lila closer because you are afraid you might do something with Amaris if you don’t get hitched soon."

Rowan laughed but I could hear how disingenuously nervous he sounded, could see the way his hands tightened on his biceps. "Aren’t you a man of many wisdoms. Don’t you hear how stupid that sounds?"

This wasn’t just a theory I had formed in my head. It was one I knew for certain. Rowan had been postponing the marriage with Lila and all of a sudden wanted to get married.

"Call it stupid if you want," I shrugged, "but let me tell you something brother. Marriage would not stop you from falling for the fated mate bond." I moved closer until we were almost chest to chest. "When it comes to hierarchy, fated mate bond tramples every form of marriage contract."

"Ask dad, he knows how well that turns out," I added, just to let my point stick harder.

Rowan’s expression shifted into a more desperate one. "We should just reject her Ryker. I am not ready to drown with you."

"Oh dear brother," I smiled, "now that you have kissed her, wouldn’t you want to taste her more? Aren’t you even curious to know how she tastes everywhere else?" I let the words sink in, watched his pupils dilate. "Why kill the fun when the game is just starting?"

"I am not playing any game with you," Rowan snapped.

"Why not?" I challenged. "Let’s make it interesting. Let’s see who can ruin her completely for dad first."

Rowan shook his head and took a step back like physical distance would somehow save him from the truth I was laying out. "You are hopeless Ryker. I am not playing your games. Clearly you are a sick sadist."

"Rowan," I kept my voice level, reasonable, like we were discussing something as mundane as the weather, "you and I both know you want her just as badly as I do. You are just better at pretending."

He did not answer and that silence was louder than any denial he could have offered. Just turned and walked out of my room without another word, leaving me alone with my daggers and my thoughts.

*****

I got dressed slowly, pulling on dark clothes that would blend into shadows if anyone happened to see me moving through the halls at inappropriate hours. Not that I particularly cared about being caught, but making things easy for people who wanted to judge me had never been my style.

Thirty minutes past midnight.

I sat on my bed waiting, listening for footsteps in the hallway that never came.

Amaris owed me and I had made it clear I expected payment tonight, expected her to show up at my door ready to honor the deal we made. But apparently she was either braver or stupider than I gave her credit for because she was not coming.

She was testing my patience.

Testing to see if I would actually come for her or if my threats were empty posturing designed to scare her into compliance.

She was about to find out I never made threats I did not intend to follow through on.

I stood up and headed for the door, moving through the dark hallways with the kind of casual confidence that said I had every right to be exactly where I was. Even if what I was doing could be classified as deeply inappropriate at best and grounds for execution at worst, looking guilty was how you got caught.

Look like you belong and people’s brains fill in explanations that let you get away with murder.

Literally in my case.

I reached Amaris’s door and paused, my hand raised to knock while some small rational part of my brain asked if this was really the line I wanted to cross.

She was my father’s intended mate.

She was innocent in ways I had not been for years.

She deserved better than being used as a weapon in whatever war I was waging against Corvin.

But that rational voice was drowned out by everything else, by the mate bond screaming at me to claim what was mine, by the jealousy still burning in my chest from finding out Rowan kissed her, by the memory of how she felt underneath my hands and how she tasted and how she sounded when she was coming apart.

I knocked.

Footsteps approached the door, soft and hesitant, and I could picture her on the other side trying to decide if opening it was a terrible idea.

It was.

She should leave me standing in this hallway, should tell me to go away, should have enough self-preservation to recognize that letting me in would be a mistake she could not take back.

The door opened.

Amaris stood there in a lace nightgown that should have been illegal, the fabric thin enough that I could see the outline of her body underneath, could trace the curve of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the shadow between her thighs.

My mouth went dry instantly at the sight of herm

"What are you doing here?" she asked, but her voice lacked conviction, like she already knew the answer and was just going through the motions of pretending this surprised her.

My eyes traveled over her slowly, taking their time mastering every detail because I wanted her to feel the weight of my gaze, wanted her to understand exactly what I was thinking.

I wanted to have her so badly it felt like hunger, like thirst, like something essential I would die without.

"I believe you owe me something Amaris," I responded, my voice wasn’t a whisper, it echoed my need for her loudly. "And I am here to collect."