Page 96 of Feral Possession

She grinned. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.” Tonight, he’d forgone his hood. She smoothed the lapel of his fitted suit and caressed his smooth cheek. “Shadow’s withdrawn. Are you ready to do this?”

He nodded.

They exited the sedan, followed by two members of his security team. Both hand-selected by his bodyguard.

“Any updates from Bishop?” Dove asked as they entered the dimly lit corridor.

“He’s in the locker room.” Marcus would have preferred to have him at his side. Unfortunately, tonight that wasn’t possible.

“Celeste already texted me fifty times. It will be exciting seeing him fight.”

It might have been, under different circumstances. “The event is sold out. Placing Bishop in the wildcard match accomplished what we’d intended.”

“I imagine your presence had something to do with it as well,” Dove said.

They hung a right down another corridor. Using his private entrance should have been his first choice instead of falling back on his old habits. The darkened hallways would take them directly to the arena, avoiding the masses.

“I’m told the gaming area is at maximum capacity,” Marcus said. “Those not interested in the fight still came for the show.” Morbid curiosity enticed many of them. Others came, hoping to see him weakened and frail, enjoying his fall from grace. Thanks to Dove, they’d go home disappointed.

They entered his private elevator, riding up several floors. When they exited, yet another pair of guards awaited their arrival, escorting them along the corridor to his personal box seats. Bishop had trained his crew well. Members of his team were positioned throughout the arena. Others were scattered around the gaming area. Their mission, to identify and capture Helen. Already, there had been a number of unusually large bets placed. The likelihood his former CFO placed one of them was good. Anticipation hummed in his veins. This time, she would not escape.

He squeezed Dove’s hand. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she said.

He jerked his chin at the guard, keeping his eyes on the female at his side. Despite what was at stake tonight, he found he wanted to witness her reaction to the place. The door swung open, revealing his private suite as well as the arena. Dove gasped. Seeing her face light up, he wasn’t disappointed.

Dove’s stomach pitched as she strode to the railing, taking in the view. The event arena was beyond grand, fit for royalty. Better suited to opera or Shakespearian plays than combat. Their box seats were in a private suite, three stories up. Below them, patrons filtered in. Two tiers of seating rose from the ground level. Above that were two additional levels of box seats with theirs positioned in the middle. Crystal candelabras glittered against the gilded walls. Rich banners with family crests, the kind a medieval knight might have carried, hung from metal rods. At the center of it all was a massive iron cage.

Anticipation charged the atmosphere. Marcus joined her at the railing. At his appearance, heads swiveled in their direction. Voices lowered to dull mutterings. Furtive glances cast their way. The weight of their curious stares itched like a rash between her shoulder blades. Rather than retreat, she lifted her chin and raised her hand, executing a perfect royal wave. The Queen of England would have applauded her finesse. Goddess rest her soul.

Marcus coughed an exasperated sound. “Do not encourage them.”

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” Dove turned to him, only to find his focus fixed on her instead of the crowd. Her heart skipped. It was in this casino where they’d first met, shortly before his accident. Back then, he’d looked through her as if she were as insubstantial as vapor. Someone unworthy of his notice.

Tonight, his heated gaze bore into her. Appraised every inch. His attention was a warm caress, stroking her flesh. She pictured him as a great dragon and her a jewel in his priceless hoard. In that moment, she felt treasured.

She warmed beneath his intense stare. “Marcus, I…”

Before she could say something to embarrass herself, the door swung open and Celeste breezed in, face flushed, eyes bright. “Have you ever seen anything so grand?”

Celeste had begged and begged for tickets. Dove, in turn, begged and begged Marcus to bring her friend. Marcus agreed, much to Bishop’s annoyance. At least this way, if Marcus was called away on urgent Helen business, Dove wouldn’t be alone.

Dove greeted the witch with a quick hug, sighing dramatically. “Seems a shame to watch a couple of guys beat each other bloody in such a refined space.”

Celeste snorted. “Whether it be a gilded showroom, gymnasium, or darkened alley, I don’t care, as long as I get to see a half-naked Bishop in action.” She twirled, holding out her shimmering skirt. “Do you think Bishop will like my dress? I added a bit of magical razzle-dazzle. Just a simple glamour to capture his notice.” Dark curls cascaded down her back, the top swept into a loose knot. Multiple strands of gold and glittering gems circled her neck.

“He won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” Dove assured her. If the dunder-headed lycan wasn’t captivated, there was no hope for the guy.

Celeste’s gaze drifted over Dove’s shoulder, and her eyes widened. “Oh wow. Is that champagne?”

“Help yourself,” Marcus said, and Celeste skittered to a small sideboard loaded with snacks and beverages.

Dove and Marcus returned to the railing, looking out over the crowd.

Dove whispered, “Any news on you-know-who?”

“Nothing yet.”

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