She stopped about a meter away from him, on the other side of the stool just behind where they stood, which held the silver arm cuffs in a black box.
The cuff he'd worked so hard to keep lying there, a reminder that he could occasionally win a battle inside the bloody clan.
Smiling, she clasped her hands in front of her and Killian quickly rememb
ered his role as doting boyfriend. He did his best to appear smitten as her voice rang out, "Killian O'Shea, our time together has been short, but from the moment you returned to us, something fell into place. You are the male I've been waiting for. And while others see nothing but the harsh exterior and the male you used to be, I see a strong, intelligent male discovering who he is. For whatever reason, you've allowed me to join you on the journey and asked me to be your mate. As I stand in front of all Glenlough, I make my claim. No matter how rough the road is ahead, I will stand at your side." She picked up the silver band with her name supposedly engraved in strange symbols and moved closer so she could gently place it on his bicep, the one all but healed from the tattoo removal. Murmurs whispered through the room, but she paid them zero attention. "Do you accept my claim?"
He tried his best not to think of her words and merely replied, "I do."
Taking his cue, Killian took one of Brenna's hands in his. As he rubbed the back of it with his thumb, her pupils flashed several times between round and slitted. He wondered what her dragon was saying. Probably out of kindness, she hadn't mentioned the bloody thing beyond one explanation. But that was one of the many things he hoped to change once they were alone and living together. Learning about the strange voices in dragon-shifters' heads might help him better understand what he used to be.
Pushing aside all other thoughts, he focused back on the moment. It was time to bring out the charm.
He raised his voice. "Brenna Rossi, you treat me as a male of worth. As I struggle to learn who I am, you do your best to support me. The thought of you leaving is unbearable. Therefore, I stake my claim in front of the entire gathering. Do you accept it?"
She searched his gaze for a second before replying, "I do."
Picking up the cool, silver band of metal, he slid it over her tattoo-free bicep and took a moment to trace the Irish word for mine.
Even if it were a damn lie, it was nice to pretend something belonged to him. And in words he actually understood.
Reaching out an arm, he pulled her up against his body. His instructions had been to give a chaste kiss and face the crowd. But as her warmth pressed against him, he tossed aside the order and traced her jaw. He swore he heard her heart rate tick up.
Moving his finger to her plump bottom lip, he traced it and her lips parted. With a growl, he closed the distance and kissed her.
With her lips open, he easily slid his tongue inside her mouth and groaned at the sweet taste. Within seconds, Brenna threaded her fingers into his hair and met each of his strokes with her own.
Suddenly, her mouth wasn't enough. Running a hand down her back, then her arse, and finally to her upper thigh, he gently lifted her leg until she cradled him and he pressed against her center. Even through her fucking dress, he could feel her hot and wet for him.
He was about to run his hand under her skirt and up her thigh when something hard and sharp pelted his head. Ignoring it, he took the kiss deeper only to be hit again.
Tearing his lips from Brenna's, he growled and searched for the source.
Standing just below the dais was the old woman who claimed to be his grandmother, Orla Kelly. And she held up another blasted rock, one with a wicked point.
Brenna's whisper filled his ear. "Let me go. Everyone is watching."
He didn't care for the embarrassment in her voice. He met her gaze. "Why does it matter?"
"Not here, Killian."
"Just know this isn't finished, Brenna. Not by a long shot."
He released her and quickly swept her off her feet. Facing the crowd, he bellowed, "Enjoy the celebration. Excuse us for not staying. As you can see, I can't keep my hands off my beautiful bride."
Before Brenna could do more than squeak, he stalked across the dais and into the side room where he'd waited before the ceremony. Once through the door, he placed her on the ground, shut the door, and quickly moved her so that her back was to the door.
Placing a hand on either side of her head, he murmured, "Is this better, darling?"
Brenna smiled slowly before she promptly kneed him in the bollocks.
~~~
Some might feel bad about Killian kneeling over and holding himself, but satisfaction coursed through Brenna's body, helping to alleviate the anger. "You're a bastard, but yes, this is better."
He glared up at her. "Coward."
She blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"