Upon their return to the farmhouse, Vivienne took the porch stairs two at a time, and impatiently waited for Marcus to fish out the keys and unlock the back door. She then rushed into the kitchen and began unloading their haul. Soon the room was filled with the fresh scent of flowers and the faint aroma of the blackberries they had just picked.
Once the massive collection had been deposited onto the centre table, Vivienne began to move about the room with purpose, searching through the cupboards for the necessary utensils and ingredients she would need to make blackberry jam. Marcus watched her with interest, hazel eyes filled with curiosity as he leaned against the doorframe and motionlessly tracked her progress from his position.
Finally, Vivienne pulled out a large, heavy-bottomed pot and several glass jars with their lids still screwed on and the labels long peeled off. Some looked like old jam jars, but others must have been used for other things like peanut but
For a moment, both remained still, caught in the net of unspoken yet burning want. Vivienne's fingers clutched at Marcus's shirt, painted nails digging into the fabric as her breath came faster, while Marcus hesitated, his gaze flickering between her parted lips and her eyes. The woman’s breath caught in her throat as Marcus's intense hazel eyes bore into her. She could feel her heart pounding like a drum, her eyes fluttering shut in anticipation as one of his hands slowly made its way up her thigh – his rough hands gently squeezing the back of her smooth thighs, bare and exposed by her denim shorts – while his other hand gently cupped her cheek. The chemistry between the two of them built in intensity as Marcus slowly caressed the side of her face with featherlight fingers. Such a gentle and innocent touch contrasting hard with the direction of his other hand, and yet it was that which made Vivienne’s legs feel like they were about to buckle under the weight of the man’s ma
Marcus let out an instinctual snort. “Not unless the background check I ran on you skipped a few crucial details,” he replied sardonically. “You ran a background check on me?!” Vivienne balked, and then wondered why she was so surprised by that. “Wait, never mind that. What did you mean by ‘crucial details’? Are they a criminal? Mafia? Were you secretly recruited by the CIA or something? Is this like an espionage mission, I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you type of deal?” In response, the bear shifter levelled her with a look that was equal parts disbelieving and amused. He opened his mouth for a moment, seemingly conflicted, and finally shook his head firmly. "Your imagination is impressive.” “I’m not hearing a confirmation or denial,” Vivienne sing-songed, grinning when the shifter exhaled a quiet laugh. “You know I can’t answer any of those questions, Vivienne. It's better if you remain as ignorant as mentally possible about everyth
Outside, Marcus opened the car door for her, and Vivienne slipped in, her heartbeat ratcheting higher as he climbed into the driver’s seat and revved the engine to a start. Soon they were exiting the forest path and cruising along the familiar main road, not in the direction of the city but further down. To Vivienne’s surprise, the car turned down a nearly invisible street and past a barely visible signpost that read Now Entering Sixset Town! Welcome! There was no time to consider the strangeness of the name before the line of trees broke into a small town, the scenery shifting from the lush greenery of the forest to the more open space surrounding the aforementioned settlement. So this must be where the farmer’s market takes place, though Vivienne wasn’t sure who was supposed to be attending it. The woman wound down the glass to peer out of the car window, taking in the sight of a town that seemed like it had been emptied of people and then
Sighing, the woman watched as Marcus made his way around a table to a booth a few feet away that she hadn’t noticed was occupied. From her empty vantage point in the dimly lit bar lounge, Vivienne studied the man seated at the table, and was surprised by how ordinary he appeared to be. Well, not ordinary, but Vivienne had spent quite a lot of time in the film and media industry so her understanding of attractiveness and what was eye-catching was a little skewed in favour of other factors. The prettiest packages often held the ugliest contents. Models who played nice in front of their agents, only to badmouth and backstab one another in private. Starlets who smiled and held hands for the cameras only to sabotage one another once the lights were gone. Hell, Liam had been good looking and look how that had turned out. All of that wasn’t to say that the man wasn’t handsome, because he was. Like Marcus, he looked to be in his early thirties, with tousled blonde h
anyway. We do have business to discuss, after all." Pressed so close to him, Vivienne felt the subtle loosening of muscle, the release of tightly wound tension as Marcus relaxed imperceptibly, though his face remained an impassive wall of stoicism as he stared Damien down. He slightly raised his eyebrow at the man's response, "What 'business' do you have to discuss with me?" With a quick glance at Vivienne, who was doing her best to keep her head down and appear as uninterested as possible while still very much eavesdropping on the conversation, Damien began to explain. "The family is currently planning a rather delicate negotiation with the Apollyon Organization. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” Marcus grunted in affirmative, though Vivienne had to think a little to recall the name. She had heard of them on the news, a human-only group that just skirted the line of legality. A lot of articles labelled them as heavily anti-shifter, if not straight up human supremacists. Still, if the
The car cruised along the main road, the engine providing a low humming backdrop to the song of bullfrogs and crickets singing in the trees. Marcus allowed himself to enjoy the moment of calm as mentally he counted down the seconds until Vivienne – figuratively chewing on the meeting and pathologically unable to contain her curiosity for an extended period of time – unleashed a storm of questions. To the man’s surprise, she lasted a good five seconds longer than he had expected. The car actually made it a few yards from the edge of the forest before the interrogation began. "Alright, ‘fess up,” the woman twistedaround in her seat to pin him with a scowl, dark eyes searching his face for any hint of evasiveness. “What the hell was all that? How do you know the Warrens and the Apollyon Organization? And who is Amy?" The barrage came quick and fast, hitting like stones being flung from from a well-trained trained sling. Marcus puffed out a sigh, glancin
The tension had escalated until Marcus, unable to bear the strain any longer, made a decision that surprised even himself. In a sudden, sharp motion, he jerked the car to a halt on the side of the deserted road. The black tires screeched against the asphalt, and the vehicle shuddered to a stop. Vivienne's eyes, still glowing with rage, went wide. Her body, briefly airborne and cradled safely by the seatbelts, came down hard on the leather cushions. There was no time for her to recover as she was immediately pressed back against the car door with Marcus looming over her. The abrupt stop had caught her off guard, and now her pulse raced with a mixture of fear and defiance that he could smell rising off her skin. Mingled with the scent of his clothes and the racing of her pulse, it was an intoxicating combination. “Marcus?” The man towered over her with his broad muscular chest. He stares down at you sternly with his deep brown eyes, his solid arms stretched acr
Vivienne awoke the next morning with a headache, hair stuck to the corner of her mouth, and the uncomfortable sensation that she had done something shameful last night.It didn’t take long for the memories to crash upon her like a tidal wave, bringing with it the taste of Marcus’s tongue in her mouth, the feel of his hands wrapping around her thighs to manhandle her like she was little more than a doll. The weight of his body trapping her against the car-seat, their panting breaths fogging up the window and making it abundantly clear was had been happening inside.The way he had held her, crushed her in his embrace, it wasn’t anything she had expected from the stoic, professional veneer Marcus wore. Last night he had been the one to cross the lines, to tear off the mask to reveal a yawning chasm if insatiable hunger. If that car hadn’t driven past, he definitely would have…A whine escaped Vivienne’s lips as she clapped her h
Red hot annoyance simmered beneath the surface of Marcus's face as he practically dragged Vivienne away from Damien. Luckily she was quite adept at noticing his moods, and simply followed along meekly, not putting up a fight as he led her across the room. Her high hels clicked against the marble floor, before becoming muffled by the soft carpet that covered the exit corridors. As they crossed the border, Marcus's grip shifted, pressing the hard edges of her bracelet into her skin. Vivienne hissed, more out of surprise than actual pain. Marcus, who had all this while been too wrapped up in his thoughts, suddenly halted at the sound. He turned around and looked her over with concern. "Are you okay? Did that bastard-" "I'm fine," she stopped him, and then turned her arm over to show the pale pink imprint left behind by the clear stones. Marcus could tell that they weren't real diamonds, they didn't have the same lustre or the aura of blood that always stuck to precious gems mined in f
After wandering around a bit more, Vivienne finally chose to linger near the walls where someone had set up a gallery. Vivienne wondered if the art pieces were always present, or if they had been set out specifically for the masquerade, decorations meant to adorn the richly decorated space. The artwork seemed to vary widely in style and substance, reflecting the eclectic tastes of the person who had donated them. As she examined the pieces, she couldn't help but be captivated by the wonders that adorned the walls. One particular painting stood out—a masterpiece that seemed to come alive with textured strokes and vivid colours. It depicted a moonlit forest, where shadows and light played in a mesmerizing dance. The impasto technique added depth and dimension, the thick smears of navy and chartreuse making the trees practically leap off the canvas. Vivienne marvelled at the skill of the artist, the brushstrokes revealing a passion and mastery that she was almost envious of. Adjacent to
The grand ballroom of the Red Moon Hotel unfurled before Marcus and Vivienne like a magnetic dream. The air was infused with the heady aroma of flowers, and the soft strains of music enveloped them as they stepped into the heart of the masquerade. The room glittered with the glow of chandeliers, the marble floors catching the streams of light and tossing them back into the air like teardrops. Couples in elaborate masks twirled on the dance floor, creating a scene straight out of a fairytale. Marcus, dressed in his impeccable black suit, kept a protective arm around Vivienne as they entered the enchanting space. Her scarlet gown swirled with each step, and the mask she wore added an air of mystery to her allure. As they surveyed the festivities, Vivienne felt the fingers around her waist tighten with an almost palpable sense of possessiveness, and she bit back a smile. There was her protector, determined to keep her safe in this sea of unknown faces. However, their idyllic entrance w
On the day of the pivotal meeting with Damien, Vivienne decided to indulge in a moment of luxury. The secluded farmhouse had witnessed more than its fair share of tension, but tonight, she wanted to relax. She loved the woods, the smell of petrichor, moss, and fresh-cut wood, but right now she wanted to pretend. She craved a touch of elegance. Something that made her feel powerful and desirable. With those thoughts in mind, she rummaged through her limited wardrobe, eager to find the perfect gown for the occasion. She hadn’t exactly packed her bags with the goal of appearing on a runway, but there were one or two dresses she had hidden at the bottom of her suitcase. Not because she’d planned to wear them, but because they were clothes that she’d bought for herself or been given as gifts, and there was no telling what Liam might do with her belongings once she was out of the way. The man seemed to lack object permanence, where if his wife wasn’t in visible vici
The next few days passed in a whirlwind of unspoken tension, a palpable silence hanging heavy in the air between Vivienne and Marcus. It wasn't the kind of silence born out of anger or resentment; rather, it was a quiet storm of restrained emotions that seemed to swirl around them, growing more and more tumultuous with each passing moment spent without acknowledging the obvious tempest. Marcus had taken to patrolling the perimeter every morning and night, leaving Vivienne alone with her thoughts throughout the day. The haunting echoes of his footsteps as he treaded the familiar path outside the farmhouse became a constant reminder of the walls he erected around his emotions. Vivienne hated it. It reminded her too much of her parents. They’d never argued, but she’d often wished that they had. Coming home to the silent home, afraid to walk through the house for fear that one wrong move would shatter the false peace that mom erected every time dad couldn’t control his fists. Keep your he
The tension that lingered from the previous night seemed to dissipate further as they shared a light-hearted moment, connected by the discovery of unexpected common ground. Vivienne continued flipping through the pages of the tattered romance novel, her eyebrows raised in mock skepticism. "You know, if I were the main character of this story, I would have made a run for it the first night. Kidnapped or not." Marcus chuckled, leaning against the bookshelf. "Oh, trust me, the love interest would have easily caught you, bunny. He’s a shifter too. We’re much faster than humans." “Is that so?” She shot him a haughty glare. "Well, I'd like to think I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Like poison." The look Marcus levelled her with was equal parts amused and disbelieving. "You think an adult shifter wouldn’t be able to smell their food being poisoned?” “Who said anything about food?” Vivienne replied coyly, covering the bottom half of her face with the book an
Vivienne awoke the next morning with a headache, hair stuck to the corner of her mouth, and the uncomfortable sensation that she had done something shameful last night.It didn’t take long for the memories to crash upon her like a tidal wave, bringing with it the taste of Marcus’s tongue in her mouth, the feel of his hands wrapping around her thighs to manhandle her like she was little more than a doll. The weight of his body trapping her against the car-seat, their panting breaths fogging up the window and making it abundantly clear was had been happening inside.The way he had held her, crushed her in his embrace, it wasn’t anything she had expected from the stoic, professional veneer Marcus wore. Last night he had been the one to cross the lines, to tear off the mask to reveal a yawning chasm if insatiable hunger. If that car hadn’t driven past, he definitely would have…A whine escaped Vivienne’s lips as she clapped her h
The tension had escalated until Marcus, unable to bear the strain any longer, made a decision that surprised even himself. In a sudden, sharp motion, he jerked the car to a halt on the side of the deserted road. The black tires screeched against the asphalt, and the vehicle shuddered to a stop. Vivienne's eyes, still glowing with rage, went wide. Her body, briefly airborne and cradled safely by the seatbelts, came down hard on the leather cushions. There was no time for her to recover as she was immediately pressed back against the car door with Marcus looming over her. The abrupt stop had caught her off guard, and now her pulse raced with a mixture of fear and defiance that he could smell rising off her skin. Mingled with the scent of his clothes and the racing of her pulse, it was an intoxicating combination. “Marcus?” The man towered over her with his broad muscular chest. He stares down at you sternly with his deep brown eyes, his solid arms stretched acr
The car cruised along the main road, the engine providing a low humming backdrop to the song of bullfrogs and crickets singing in the trees. Marcus allowed himself to enjoy the moment of calm as mentally he counted down the seconds until Vivienne – figuratively chewing on the meeting and pathologically unable to contain her curiosity for an extended period of time – unleashed a storm of questions. To the man’s surprise, she lasted a good five seconds longer than he had expected. The car actually made it a few yards from the edge of the forest before the interrogation began. "Alright, ‘fess up,” the woman twistedaround in her seat to pin him with a scowl, dark eyes searching his face for any hint of evasiveness. “What the hell was all that? How do you know the Warrens and the Apollyon Organization? And who is Amy?" The barrage came quick and fast, hitting like stones being flung from from a well-trained trained sling. Marcus puffed out a sigh, glancin