Page 121 of Feral Possession

The heavy clomp of uncoordinated feet and a yelp of pain over crunched toes came from the couple dancing beside them. Clutched in the tension-riddled arms of a former super heavyweight champion was a curvy witch with stars in her eyes. Marcus caught the expression of misery on Bishop’s rugged face and coughed on a laugh.

“Bishop!” Dove chirped. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

“He can’t.” Celeste beamed, undeterred by her partner’s plodding gait. “Not yet, at least. But he’ll be smoother than Fred Astaire after the ballroom dance class he’s taking with me.”

“The what?” Marcus croaked, laughter threatening to undo him.

“I owed her a debt,” Bishop grumbled, red tinting his cheeks.

“For the bath bomb in the arena,” Celeste stated, a possessive gleam in her eyes. “Every Tuesday and Friday night, he’s all mine.”

“That sounds wonderful, Celeste.” Dove sighed. “So romantic.”

“Isn’t it?” Celeste massaged the shoulder of her reluctant partner. “Now, spin me, you fool, before you lose me forever,” she teased.

“Gods forbid,” Bishop grated through gritted teeth and swung the delighted witch across the dance floor.

“We are so sneaking in to watch those lessons,” Marcus said.

“Agreed.” Dove laughed. Her happiness infectious.

Farther outside the circle of guests, Marcus caught sight of a dark-haired apparition who lingered among the roses. Static prickled down the back of his neck and his breath hitched.

“What’s wrong?” Dove followed the direction of his shocked stare. “Josephine.” She gasped, her tone full of wonder.

When he remained speechless, she tightened her grip on his shoulder. “You can see her?”

“Yes,” he whispered, stunned to lay eyes on his mother after so many years. Emotion squeezed his throat.

“Perhaps you’ve gained more than a sliver of my soul during the ceremony. Either that or it’s Shadow’s gift to you.”

Before he could go to her, his mother blew him a kiss before fading into the twilight.

Dove sighed. “I think she’s at rest now.”

“I hope so.”

“I can’t believe you saw her. It makes me curious.”

Marcus turned to her, arching a brow.

Dove caressed his cheek. “Shadow?” As she drew her hand back, dark spirals curled around her wrist.

“My queen,” the demon purred.

Dove gasped. “I heard him in my head.”

Seemed that bonding ceremony had done more than either of them expected.

“Don’t encourage him. If his ego gets any bigger, he will no longer fit.” The bastard had never been so content.

“Who, me?” Dove smirked. “Never.”

Slim fingers tapped Marcus’s shoulder, and he peered at his old friend.

“May I cut in?” Vivian asked, claiming Dove’s hand.

“Certainly.” Marcus bowed to her, handing over his Bride.

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