Page 74 of Feral Possession

“Commands you how?” Marcus snapped, weary of the creature’s games. The past week had been trying.

“I am hersss.”

“Explain.” Possessive urges rose within him, his or the demon’s, he wasn’t sure.

“You bonded me to the necromancer.”

“How?”

“Bound us in blood and in spirit.”

His breath caught. “The Chosen ceremony.”

“Yesss,” the demon purred, sounding far too pleased with himself.

By the gods, Dove had formed a connection with the beast. They’d shared a bond from day one. His tension ratcheted, his heart inching up his throat. Dove was the demon’s master, not Marcus. No wonder he’d had so much trouble controlling the bastard. “Does she know?”

“No. Like you, she hears but doesss not listen.”

His tightening shoulders relaxed. Good. He put a lot of faith in the faerie, more than he’d given anyone in decades. To have that trust betrayed would shatter everything he’d regained. At once, he wanted to chain her to his side and yet run from her as fast as he could. If she could command the demon, she could command him. Control him.

“Female not a threat. Essence pure,” Shadow said, reading his alarm. “Make her ssstay. Fail without her.”

“Is that an order?” he growled.

“Request.”

Technically, Dove had fulfilled her end of their contract. With her help, he’d learned his possession wasn’t a weakness but a strength. One he intended to use to his advantage in his fight against Helen.

Dove was free to return to Vivian if she wanted. He’d given her little incentive to stay. “Look at me. No female wants to be saddled with a monster. She’ll run the first chance she gets.”

“Help me. I help you.”

Flames licked the side of Marcus’s face. He slapped his hand to his damaged flesh. “Stop. Damn you! What are you doing?”

Agony dropped him to his knees. He opened his mouth and yet no sound emerged, the pain locking his scream in his throat.

“Infant,” the demon spat in disgust.

“What did you do to me?” Marcus ran his hands down his face, then froze. His face. His hideous, disfigured face felt… healed. He staggered to his feet. “How did you—”

Knocking sounded from his door, and the hinges squeaked. “Marcus? Are you in there?”

He gripped the balcony railing in front of him, his mind reeling. “Outside,” he managed to respond.

Anxiety locked him in place. What would Dove think when she saw him? Would she still demand he set her free? Could he?

Nineteen

Dove entered Marcus’s bedroom on shaky legs and breathed slowly to steady her nerves. Soft light illuminated the space. The balcony doors were open. Marcus stood outside with his back to her, his powerful frame a dark silhouette against a starlit sky.

She padded across the floor, joining him at the railing. Together, they gazed into the night. The scent of roses wafted on a cool evening breeze. Despite the tranquil setting, Marcus stood stiffly beside her. His manner reserved.

Best to just get this over with quickly, for both their sakes. “I spoke to Vivian. She says I can rejoin her anytime I’m ready.”

“I assumed as much,” Marcus said, his tone flat, giving her little in the way of feedback.

Was that how he wanted to play this? As though he had no personal interest in her decision? Fine. She could be aloof as well. Though it went against every fiber of her being, she pressed her lips together, refusing to say more. For once she wouldn’t pluck the heart from her sleeve and drop it in his lap, hoping he’d pick up the pieces.

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