Page 41 of Feral Possession

Intimately. After their one night together, she’d done everything in her power to trap him into giving her a second. She’d even gone so far as to spread rumors they were engaged. Since his accident, he hadn’t heard a word from her.

“Carina.” Marcus dipped his head at the ebony-haired viper.

While swathed in a white halter dress with an orchid tucked behind her ear, she was far from innocent. She pursed her glossy lips, scanning his form. “My poor, poor Marcus. It’s so awful what happened to you at your casino opening. My sympathies for your suffering. I’ve heard your injuries are horribly disfiguring. Tell me, has it affected you”—she dropped her poisonous stare to his crotch—“in all ways?”

And there was the antagonism he’d been expecting. Carina studied him with morbid curiosity, attempting to peek beneath his hood. Why he’d given her even one night, he couldn’t remember. She was as bloodthirsty as they came. Perhaps, at the time, he’d considered them kindred spirits. His tolerance for her venom had fled the moment he’d left her bed.

Dove stiffened beside him and slamming her glass down with a startling amount of force. She aimed her too bright smile at his uncle. “Magister Steele, will you please tell us more about this arrest you’ve made? It sounds like dangerous work.” Marcus’s little defender was quick to change the subject. Her outrage on his behalf, charming, but far from necessary.

Carina gasped, smacking her manicured fingers down on the table, making their glasses jump. “How dare you speak to the magister in such a familiar way? Best you mind your place, Chosen,” she sneered the word as though it were a disease.

Xavier interrupted. “Now, now. All are welcome and considered equals at my table. Like Dove, I too would like to hear more about this arrest.”

Carina snorted and sank back into her chair.

Tiberius smirked, seeming to enjoy the confrontation. “It was nothing too exciting. Just another arrest of a Zion conspirator. The offender was known to have donated large sums of money to his cause.”

Carina stroked his arm. “My dearest Tiberius, you’re too modest. Without the task force you created, I fear the underworld would be overrun by criminals.” She pressed her hand to her ample breasts, her expression contorting into some semblance of sincerity. “Tiberius and his task force are working night and day, arresting all known sympathizers. They are the true heroes among us. People give far too much credit to that stuffy old clan leader, Victor Custodis. He and his little army of miscreants handled the situation poorly from the beginning.”

Marcus pressed his lips together. In the past few years, the animosity between Tiberius and Victor had grown to a critical level. Problem was, Victor and his men had managed Council law enforcement for decades. This wasn’t the time to go to war with the powerful leader. Not with Zion instigating a rebellion. He prayed his uncle wasn’t vindictive to the point of shooting the Council in the foot.

Xavier frowned. “I hear those conspirators are cast into the prison realm. Many have their assets confiscated. Harsh consequences, don’t you think?”

“Not at all,” Tiberius said. “There needs to be zero tolerance for those who seek to destroy our way of life. None are above the law of the Council. It’s important we treat all offenders equally.” He met Marcus’s hooded gaze, delivering his subtle warning.

The maniacal gleam in his uncle’s eye was the reason Marcus needed to find Helen, and fast. To clear himself of the false evidence she’d left, tying him to Zion. Tiberius’s witch hunt was already out of hand.

“Any theories on who this Zion character may be?” Xavier leaned back in his chair, resting his drink on his rounded stomach.

“We have a few leads. Nothing I’m at liberty to discuss,” Tiberius said.

The male seated next to Carina leaned in, stroking his thick moustache. “I hear he’s a lycan. Who else would stand to gain so much with the fall of the Council? Those werewolves have been angry ever since their leader was given a Council seat and they were forced to wear collars to suppress their beasts.”

Another guest, a woman with a narrow face and pencil-thin eyebrows, joined in. “No. He’s definitely a mage. For years, they’ve believed themselves to be above Council law.”

“Perhaps she is a faerie,” Dove interjected, incurring Carina’s heated glare. “After all, the Council has subjugated us for years, afraid if we grew too powerful, we may take over the world. After all, one of my ancestors came close eons ago.”

“How cute. It thinks it’s powerful,” sneered Carina, glaring down her nose. “Nobody in their right mind would join a rebellion led by a filthy faerie.”

“Enough politics,” Xavier exclaimed. “It’s time we discuss more pleasant topics. Have I mentioned I purchased a new helicopter?”

Ten

Conversation and exotic dishes rounded the table faster than Dove could keep track. Though she’d only had one glass of wine, her head floated on a fluffy pink cloud. At some point, Marcus had slung his arm across the back of her chair, the position possessive and so appealing. Where his hand rested on her bare shoulder, he drew sleepy circles with his index finger. Whether it was part of a ruse or not, her lady parts were totally on board. Goddess, it was as if he were stroking her between her legs. Earlier, he’d almost succeeded. Curse the magister’s timing.

Dove fanned her cheeks and pressed her thighs together. “I’m not sure what they’re putting in these drinks, but I like it.”

Marcus’s dark chuckle tickled her insides, and she shivered. Perhaps because she hadn’t heard him laugh before?

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Horny,” she blurted out. Laughter twittered around the table. Within moments, another round of jovial toasts was made.

“To being horny.” Glasses clinked.

Marcus growled low in response, the heat of his glare sliding over those gathered. Several cast him a cautious glance, lowering their heads to their plates.

Though some were oblivious to his chilling warning. At the end of the table, one of the couples fed each other dessert, staring into each other’s eyes. The moment raw and passionate. At Dove’s throaty groan, Marcus tightened his grip on her shoulder, drawing her closer.

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