Page 60 of Her Tortured Beasts

“That’s right,” Tiberius says. “Blood for blood.”

A chill trickles down my spine. Scythe killed Caius Clawson, Titus’ brother, in this very same place.

And there is vengeance in the eyes of both Clawsons.

“Why has it not been taken care of already?” the Collector asks, tapping her cigarette over an ashtray.

I have to give it to her. Woman’s got a strong pair of ovaries to push at both the Nagas and the Clawsons.

“We needed more information,” Mace says evenly. “Scythe Kharkorous is devious. He plans well in advance.”

“We need other options for the Council’s marine seat,” Lady Hyena says. “Are there more controllable candidates we might hook in?”

“He’s got a bunch of them locked up in that mental hospital of his,” Tiberius Clawson says casually. “We could take our pick from there.” Tiberius turns to Xander. “Youcould get a patient list, Lord Drakos.”

Xander has lit a joint and is mid-drag when he’s asked. He exhales slowly, making Tiberius wait. The smoke dissipates into the centre of the table. “Sure, but it will cost you.”

Tiberius narrows his eyes, dark brows knitting together. “How do we even know you’re on our side?”

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mace Naga who speaks up. “Xander has made his allegiance clear.” He gestures to me with a lazy hand.

“Once a turncoat, always a turncoat,” Titus snarls. “He could be a double agent for all we know.”

“Ha!” Lady Hyena slams a fist on his table. “You should know what a severed mate looks like, Titus. They are cursed. No trickery can hide a hate like that.”

Oh, I don’t know, my father for one? There’s a bunch of psychopaths at this table who would murder their regina in cold blood. But everyone turns to stare at Xander and I know they see it.

“Oh yeah?” Titus says. “Then dance for us, Boneweaver. Bend over and show me your pussy. Let everyone see where Scythe Kharkorous was putting it every night until you were taken from him.” He learns forward, black eyes sparkling like beetle shells. “Bend. Over.”

No one says anything until the combined telekinesis of multiple felines turns my body around. I gasp, not prepared to be manhandled. My shields are down and I didn’t even realise. Fuck.

“Enough,” Xander snarls. “The Snake Spawn is property of the Drakos Estate, the last time I checked. Not the Clawson…house.”

“Weak as fuck,” Titus spits.

Xander snorts. “Did you give your jaw a little funeral after they couldn’t put it back on?”

Titus doesn’t miss a beat. “Have you started planning for your mother’s funeral? I hear she doesn’t have long.”

Pain blooming in my foot is the only warning Eugene can give me.

Some mad thought, or perhaps his berserker genes must possess him, because Xander apparently loses his shit. Quickerthan anyone can realise what’s happening, Xander reaches up to his ears and takes both earphones out.

Instantly, his eyes are consumed by a black so void-like it makes me freeze. He opens his mouth and roars, the sound of a full-grown dragon leaving his throat, making the glasses rattle on the wood. He lunges across the table at Titus and I careen over the table’s edge after him, that golden chain forcing me to scramble over the table to avoid choking myself.

Whatever telekinetic powers are being used on him, Xander is completely undeterred as a whip of fire circles the table, turning into a ring of blazing crimson flames around us.

Screams fill the air. Chairs fall to the floor.

“His eyes!” the Collector shouts, diving under the table as Xander punches Titus in his metal jaw.

“Get out!” someone else cries as Titus jabs Xander with his own punch.

But Xander’s berserker genes make him so impossibly quick that he’s nothing more than a blur as he gives Titus an undercut that violently snaps his head back. Tiberius comes at us from the left, but Xander is already on him and they tussle on the ground. Two serpent generals jump on Xander’s back and I’m jostled left and right.

In the mess, somebody grabs a fistful of my ass and I shriek, turning around to see Titus, who lashes his hand around my throat. “You don’t need a throat to breed, Boneweaver bitch.”

Put it in capital letters and it could be my new title.

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