Logan Chapter 92

-Emory-

I sit up with an undignified snort, alerted by Logan’s sudden panic blaring through my head. We’re really going to have to find a way to filter our communication. Once I understand what the problem is, though, my panic matches his. There was someone in the woods around us, someone who took at least one picture. I look down at myself- disheveled in a way that you know what I was just doing, but decently covered, at least. I don’t think they would have seen anything rated R unless they had really precise timing, but it mostly depends on how long they’ve been here.

There’s a reason we didn’t get a photographer for this ceremony, after all. As much as I’d love to have an album to show our kids and grandkids one day, it’s too much of a risk of exposure to have a camera anywhere near these events. Even one of the pack could drop the camera somewhere or accidentally leave a memory card where the general public could look at it. To have a stranger come and take pictures is just about the worst thing that could have happened here. Logan processed all this much faster than I did- probably because he didn’t doze off trying to empty his mind- and had already twitched a hand at some of the other couples that had finished before or around when we did. A bunch of half naked shifters on two legs started running in the general direction of the cameraperson. I didn’t know whether to hope they would catch him or not. What would we do with him if they did?

“We’ll simply alert him to the fact that this was a private party and it was very rude of him to take pictures, little rose. If he has more to say about it after that… well. We can at least break his camera.” *And escalate as needed from there,* he didn’t say out loud. I hate the thought of any violence done to someone who might have just been out jogging and gotten curious, but the shifters can not handle any more scrutiny than they already have right now. With all of us being followed and the conspiracies starting to fly online, we all need to lay low for a while. There’s no other way to be safe. Logan reaches out and holds my hand, thinking affectionately of his soft little rose. I’d really like some privacy in my head. I wonder if Deek’s brother would know anything we could try?

“Think about that later, baby. Sounds like they have him.” I hear what Logan’s talking about. I’m not sure if my senses have gotten sharper, or if I’m just riding his senses through our mind link, but I hear sounds of a struggle as the other shifters drag the man back to us. Logan and I stand up and get everything straightened until we look properly regal again. Mostly, anyway. Logan is busy picking bits of grass out of my hair when the trio of shifters arrive with a nondescript man in his late twenties or early thirties. He looks vaguely Hispanic, with dark hair and eyes, he's slight in height and width, and sporting some intense dark circles under his eyes.

Without thinking it through, I cross my arms and give him my best mom glare. “And what do you think you’re doing, taking pictures of a private event?” My tone nearly matches my Mama’s when she knows that we already know we fucked up. Logan thinks of an image of himself shuddering at me, like the picture I paint has him shitting ice by association.

“This is a public park. By being here, you consent to any pictures taken of you.” He replies, though he’s fidgety about it. “I could sue you for assaulting me and holding me against my will, actually.” I can’t resist rolling my eyes at him. What a weasel. He hasn't seen assault yet, according to Logan's darker thoughts.

“Ah, but you forget I’m a celebrity now. The rules are different for me, I’m afraid. Your friends have made your life harder by making me the new sensation.” Logan replies in a pleasant tone. I tamp down the urge to fidget next to him. “Let’s have a look at the pictures you got, shall we? I can’t have any more pictures of my darling wife getting out online. Her brothers are already displeased with the ones being circulated now. I have to get along with the in-laws, you know.” I’m not sure if it’s the wisest thing to claim our marriage when it’s not legal with the state of New York yet, but I can tell that the word girlfriend just didn’t feel like it was enough for Logan. *Trust me to handle this, little rose. I have everything under control.* God, I sure hope so. *Hey! I heard that, mate.

I get lost for a second in the word mate. We’re fully mated now. There was no going back before, I know, but it still felt like I had an out when we weren’t fully mated, when we didn’t complete the bond. This is the rest of our lives, now. I’m officially Luna of the pack, fated mate of Logan Úlfur. I suppose we need to get the paperwork done with the state of New York as well, just for human appearances after this conversation. If this guy ends up talking and we’re not married in the eyes of human law, we’re going to have a lot of explaining to do. Plus, it’ll make it easier with the company. Except Anna, anyway. But this is what we’re doing, now. Mated for life to a werewolf billionaire. Did I hit my head in that stairwell? I wouldn’t be super surprised if everything since then has been an elaborate coma dream. I don’t know that I would be creative enough, sexually, to come up with the things Logan and I have done together. That’s a small plot hole in the ‘it was all a dream’ theory.

*It’s nice to know I’m a dream come true, baby. We’ll work more on your creativity later.* The shifters restraining the cameraman look at me strangely when they smell the renewal of my arousal, and Logan barely restrains a snicker at my expense, trying to hold his stern face for the interrogation. Damn it.