Page 9 of Reign of the Beast

The perfectly tailored suit.

The expensive scotch in hand.

The brazen confidence oozing a potent allure.

That was all very much classic Lucian Black.

Whatwasoff, and what was drawing my chief focus, was the large hand resting upon his thigh. Chunky rings encircled all four fingers like armor, abrading the smooth slate gray fabric as the being tightened their grip.

I gritted my teeth, my fists clenching as a white-hot anger sparked within me.

All right, jealousy. The root cause was fucking jealousy.

“Lucian, I believe yourguesthas outstayed his welcome,” Anton spoke. He gestured at me while his gaze drilled into Lucian. “Wouldn’t you agree?” he added pointedly.

Lucian rose, his expression fierce.

He was across the room right in front of Anton in the next moment.

He began to chastise him, the two of them moving off to the side and really getting into it.

It had my attention shifting straight to thisguestof his, the being rising to his feet.

I saw him sniff the air, then abruptly turn to me.

His gaze raked over me in an assessing manner, just like mine was doing to him.

His thick hair was jet-black, wild on top, just shy of brushing his collar. His deep green eyes, similar to mine, stood out against his honey-brown tan making them all the more striking.

He was dressed a lot more casually than Lucian, yet all his shit was designer and expensive luxurious fabrics. I took in his charcoal long sleeve tee. The thing was so tight that it revealed every contour of his incredibly defined muscles beneath. He was at least half a foot taller than me, broad shoulders, majormuscle mass. He filled out his straight-legged black slacks a little too well, the things barely stretching across his thick thighs, and only serving to highlight… other things.

As he strode up to me, power rolled off him, a power I’d become intimately familiar with over the last few months.

The might belonging to an Ancient.

He rubbed his facial hair as he studied me. It was one of those circle beards, anchored by a patch of hair in the center of his chin, that joined with either side of a mustache, forming a circle.

“Magic-wielder,” he spoke in a low rumble.

“Ancient,” I returned.

In my peripheral vision I saw Anton storming to the door, pissed.

In the next second, it was slamming behind him so hard that the entire room shook.

Well, damn.

Grinning slyly, the Ancient held his hand out to me.

With a burst of speed, Lucian was at my side, snatching his hand. I heard a sharp crack and the Ancient hissed with pain.

“Donot,” Lucian snarled at him.

The Ancient chuckled. “Come on now, Luc. Don’t be so greedy.”

Luc?Just how well did they know each other?

Lucian shoved him back, releasing his hand in the process.

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