“We should probably discuss the ritual,” Risk said as he buttoned up his shirt.
At hearing that word, all the earlier relaxation and feel-good endorphins drained out of me. I wanted to keep pretending that we were here in this bubble. I didn’t want to leave it, but I knew time was running out. “Belvini probably has other schemes up his sleeves” I pointed out. “We need to plan for him to turn on us.”
“Let him try. Besides, I can flash us all out of here with a snap of my fingers, even save your aunt, too. I’m not too worried about Belvini. The moment I heard demons were being possessed against their will, I decided to shut them down.”
“I want them shut down, too. But I want us to be smart about this. If at any moment we don’t feel in control of the situation, I want to back out, okay? I never want to experience what happened yesterday again.”
“I can assure you, Wicked Love, I’m always in control,” Risk replied with a wink.
I appreciated Risk’s confidence, but unease settled through me. This wasn’t a simple gamble or game. If Risk overplayed his hand, it could mean disaster of epic proportions.
I still hadn’t told them about Stiles, either. I just didn’t know where to begin. But if he was trying to get the council to shut Spector down, that was a factor we needed to consider.
“Listen—”
My words were cut off when a horrible, deafening screech sounded through the air. Everyone’s hands clapped over their ears in unison.
“What the fuck is that?” Tomb bellowed.
I was too busy trying to stuff my fingers into my eardrums to answer him. When the noise suddenly cut off, my brain caught up with me, and my blue eyes widened. “Cheryl.”
I was on my feet and running out of the room in a second. Racing down the hall, I tried to pinpoint where I thought the noise had come from, and then followed her sugary sweet perfume in the air. My mates were racing after me, hollering at me to slow down, but I kept flashing forward, trying to follow her scent. It sounded like she was hurt, or maybe Spector was forcing her to hurt someone else, or maybe—
I burst into a room where her scent lingered and shoved the door open, my mates hot at my back. “Cheryl!” I screamed while rushing in. She was standing next to Stiles with tears running down her cheeks, fanning herself in a flurry of emotions.
“Cheryl? Are you okay?” I asked as I ran over to her. Stiles was staring up at the ceiling and rubbing his temples.
“Stiles proposed!” she cried out before wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing me tightly. I gaped at her, patting her back as I processed her words.
“Proposed?” I asked. “Proposed what?”
She broke our hug to swat at the tears streaming down her cheeks and giggled at me. “To be married, silly,” she replied before waving her hand in front of my face. Sure enough, I was nearly smacked in the nose with a ring that had a rock the size of Tomb’s cock. It glistened under the fluorescents and created a light show between us.
“Congratulations. I love weddings. Did you know that fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce? Those odds are delicious,” Risk said while grinning ear to ear. I would have swatted him if Cheryl wasn’t blocking me.
Stiles finally looked at me and grimaced. “For the tenth time, Cheryl, it’s not real,” he said painfully slow, like he was talking to someone that didn’t comprehend English. “When shit hits the fan, I want to make sure I can get you out of here safely. This isn’t actually happening.”
“Right,” Cheryl replied absentmindedly, though she was staring at the ring with admiration. “Damn, I need a manicure.”
“Cheryl,” Stiles pleaded while inching closer. She spun around to face him with a mischievous smile. “Please tell me you understand that this isn’t real.”
“We should get married in spring,” she replied.
“We’re not getting married in spring. We’re not getting married at all,” Stiles countered.
“I’m going to wear Valentino. It’s so classy and timeless; it’ll look great in the photographs.”
“I admire her persistence,” Risk said under his breath, making Crow and Tomb chuckle.
Stiles grabbed her shoulders and lightly shook her before peering deeply into her eyes. “Cheryl, we are not getting married.”
From my vantage point, I could see the dreamy look on Cheryl’s face. Nothing he said was breaking past her determination. Something told me she’d have my brother tied up to the altar if she had to. Instead of replying, she cupped his cheeks and kissed him in a way that made me slightly nauseous.
Stiles melted at her touch, all frustration fading away into the passion of their kiss. It got heated fast.
“Uh, I’m standing right here,” I protested while covering my eyes. I was worried they’d start going at it regardless of whether or not they had an unwilling audience.
“Oh, Motley!” Cheryl exclaimed when she pulled away. “Don’t worry, I will find a dress that compliments your washed out skin tone and obnoxiously red hair. I won’t let my Maid of Honor look bad, I promise.”
Once again, Cheryl had rendered me speechless. “Maid of Honor? Cheryl, there’s no way in hell—”
Her pout stopped me in my tracks, and I glanced over her head to peer at Stiles, who was pressing at his lips with the tips of his fingers. For some reason, I didn’t want to upset her, so instead I decided to fuck with my brother.
“I think a spring wedding will
