THE CABIN'S LIVING ROOM IS SILENT, with only piercing eyes and pounding hearts.
Michael glares fixedly at Aaron, who sits with the barest hint of fear in his golden eyes. Michael's arm is up in the air, his index finger a hairsbreadth from the Glock's trigger. Three angry red lines show on his neck from where Aaron's huge hands damn near strangled him.
Fallon sits quietly beside Arielle, watching the men with shiny hazel eyes. Arielle silently gives Michael time to calm. Aaron choking him was a bruise to his ego. Him pointing a gun to his head was evening the score. Plain and simple.
Michael didn't want to be seen as weak—especially not in front of his fiancee. Arielle understood this. Aaron too. But that is what you get from sneaking in on the SilverMoon Alpha. Frankly, Arielle was happy Aaron waited some seconds before ripping his throat out.
After some seconds, Michael gently lowers the pistol.
"Fuck you!" He thunders.
Aaron doesn't flinch.
"Michael...." Arielle starts.
Michael interrupts her almost immediately.
"...No. None of you get to speak. Not you. Not her," he gestures to Fallon. ".....None.... Nada."
He gingerly lowers back on the lounge and reclines on it, his head bowed and his gun slack in his hand.
The silence stretches for a while. When Michael lifts up his head, his eyes are misty and full of fire, and for the first time since her arrival to Vermont, Arielle feels guilt. For not telling Michael herself. It was clear he had discovered her affair.
The thing was that Michael was Understanding. He was open to new ideas and patterns. He just didn't like being lonely—unlike Aaron. The man never said more than ten words a day.
Michael pins her with his hypnotic deep-sea eyes, the ones she could never lie to.
"I know," he says. A statement.
"....about the werewolves. Silver moons....everything. The pack. He is your Alpha, and the man from all your dreams....the one you thought I didn't know about. I fucking held you through them, mi'amor."
Michael pauses, looking to Aaron.
"I also know you are fucking him...."
Arielle moves to interrupt him, but he holds up his hand.
"I don't blame you. I mean.....he is something. Those fucking eyes and all that damn hair. I just wanted to know you were fine."
Arielle looks to Fallon as he continues,
"....and perhaps get in line."
"What!" Both women exclaim at the same time.
"You can't blame me if I find it hot that my very sexy shifter fiancee is fucking a goddamn Alpha. It's a fucking turn-on. And since you fucked.....I'm guessing both of them, that makes me the loser. And I don't FUCKING LOSE!"
Out of her peripheral vision, Arielle catches Aaron smiling.
"Are you fucking smiling?" she growls at him. "...Michael..."
"Ah ah, mi'amor," Michael says. "It's real. You just have to fuck me.....and if you keep on going against it, I'll make it a threesome, with silver Alpha over here."
Aaron laughs out at Michael's last statement.
His laughter is warm and deep, rumbly and exciting, and Arielle is surprised. Michael made him laugh.
Michael, her fucking adorable Fiance made Him, Mr. Cold and brooding, laugh. Talk about mood twist. It was Aaron's superpower—amongst others. You meet him, you like him. Fact.
The man was quiet but had that deep call to him; the urge to unravel the mystery of his person. It was the first thing that attracted her to him. Even in her dreams. When she first began seeing him in those psychic moments, she would just wish she could see his eyes, and then maybe she could tell what made him so calm and alluring.
Now that she had actually seen his eyes, she discovered Aaron Silver was just like that; calm and mysterious. A brilliant wonder—and a fucking sexy mix. What woman didn't love a good mystery? Aaron was just that. Mystery in flesh. The man didn't talk about his past. Ever.
"You know what?" Arielle says, standing up. "This conversation is over."
"Good," Michael replies.
"See you later, and I fucking love the braided hair."
Arielle sighs and stalks off with Fallon, both women smiling all the way.
The men are left alone, and several minutes of companionable silence pass before any of them speak up. Their eyes' do the talking.
Aaron's golden eyes slowly move over Michael, calm and unbothered. Michael in turn access the strange quiet man before him. A man that could be anything he wanted in the real world; the city. Michael had a few ideas. This stone-cold personality before him could easily be an actor—a very hot one. Hell! He could be a sexy Priest, but here he was, all that damn charm women loved, wasting away deep in nature.
Michael concludes that maybe Aaron stayed away from humans because of who he was. Imagine what people would do if they discovered that an actual Alpha of a Shifter pack lived among them. The man would have to fight off mad scientists scrambling for a vial of blood, not to mention the rage that would be the media. Hell! Michael muses, it's better the Alpha remained on his hill, so to speak.
Michael could clearly see why Arielle wanted him. The man was fucking gorgeous. Almost too beautiful to be male but still with a hardened edge—as if he hated looking effeminate. He kept a faint scruff that begged to be touched and Michael put it at the back of his mind to try and cultivate his later. His ears were elf-like and his lips. Christ! They were like little beds of rose. All this makes Michael conclude that if he were a woman, he would totally be into this guy.
As their eyes move over each other, the one thing they both agree on, is that Arielle belongs to each of them. Since she is with the both them, they will share her—in bed and in whatever else she wants.
Satisfied with their pupillary telepathic agreement, Aaron speaks up.
"Sorry I hit you."
Michael nods.
"It's alright man. I shouldn't have sneaked around."
He gives Aaron a kind smile, and Aaron shifts closer on the couch.
His eyes darken to his beastly slate-gray when he says,
"Now, tell me. Who told you Arielle was here?"