Page 67 of His True Beloved

Sebastian

Iwalkedintothemassive room. The high ceilings, the disco balls, and the raging lights had me squint in annoyance. Fae were into this sort of thing in Bergarian, loving the human music of lights, annoying sounds of rhythmic thumping. It was an orgy in Bergarian, and it was soon to be an orgy in here.

Elder Rowan, for my punishment, stated I had to keep a good head about myself and make sure there wasn’t anything too raunchy. Basically stating no sex in or around the room. If they took it outside, it was out of my hands.

Christine had my hand clutched tightly. She had been saddened to hear about my home realm being in shambles, but there was not much we could do but wait. Keeping Christine’s pure mind away from the turmoil from home was difficult, even with the somber tone most of the coven took that night when it was announced. Rowan made sure to remind everyone what was important: finding mates and beloveds for those who had none so they would be together through eternity if anything happened.

The Fates would have something planned; in my experience, things happened for a reason. The universe would come full circle, and with that, having a second chance for all may be in the cards if one did not reject a suitable mate.

Rowan had given Suron and me the ultimate task of watching Ashton. When I broke the door down to their home, searching for Christine days ago, he threw a child’s temper tantrum on the steps of the coven house, raging he didn’t feel safe anymore with a wild vampire running loose.

It was all rectified, Rowan explaining I was indeed the beloved of Christine, which only pissed him off further. He was given strict orders to stay away from her, as every human male who was unaware of our paring. Now I felt the daggers in his eyes from across the room as he threw back another whisky shot.

Throwing him a fanged smirk, the hand that was sitting safely in my pocket came out and ran a claw down my beloved’s arm. Christine was innocently talking to Pamela about werewolf packs and ranks. My finger trailed the curve of her back until finally rubbing her ass. Christine turned her head to smile at me, leaning up to peck my lips.

Ashton gripped the glass, slamming it on the standing table, Amber scowling at him.

No one touches what is mine.

Oblivious of my tight hold on her, Christine took in the roaring crowd’s sight. She watched as wolves and vampires interacted. It wasn’t often we came together, but when we did interact, we were amicable. Most supernaturals were, anyway. Vampires smelled like rotting death to a werewolf, and werewolves smelled like wet dogs. Unfortunately, we couldn’t put on any scenting spray to dull our smells for fear that a pair wouldn’t be able to find each other.

The room was heavy in musk, unknowingly to Christine and the humans. Smells swirled so thick that one would have to get at least three feet from another being to be sure they had pinpointed the right person as their mate.

Except for old vampires and alpha’s werewolves. Their senses were heightened.

Pamela was swaying next to the bar, laughing at the bartender as she took a shot of a lemon drop. She winked at Christine nodding her head to the dance floor until growling ensued. Twirling my mate like a perfected dance, I held her front to my chest.

“It’s starting.” Suron grabbed Pamela, who pointed to the corner of humans. Christine’s curious eyes glanced to the corner of the room, seeing Ashton glaring back at us.

“What’s starting?” Christine blinked her eyes in wonder.

“A wolf has found his mate,” I muttered in her ear. My finger trailed down her neck and between her low-cut top. Chills ran down her skin, her eyes hooded. “Watch, it’s pretty interesting. No wolf or vampire is the same in their claims, but there are their similarities.”

Pamala snickered. “Yup, wolves go ballistic while vampires like to sling their dick around, beat around the bush with it, then plunge it into some pussy.”

“Oh god, Pamela!” Christine winced at her vulgar words.

“Think I’m going to need another shot. I’m not used to all this bad language hanging around kids all day.” Suron nodded to the bartender for a round.

The wolf that had growled wore dark jeans and a green plaid shirt. The stubble on his face was neatly trimmed to match his freshly cut head of hair. He was certainly less rugged than the lot, and his eyes were on Ashton and Amber.

The werewolf lurked over, Ashton still oblivious as he twirled the glass on the table. Amber clutched him tightly until the wolf shoved her away.

“No way.” I held in a laugh. Christine looked between the both of them, her mouth slowly dropping.

“Are they?” she went to point, but I pulled in her hand to kiss her fingers.

“Looks to be.” I smirked.

The wolf lurked closer, Ashton still oblivious to the call that howled for him. Another wolf stepped forward, peeling Amber further away until Ashton jerked his head to see Amber leaving his side, and the wolf who had claimed him grabbed his arm.

Words were spoken. Ashton was obviously in shock and disbelief until the wolf pulled him into his embrace and kissed him. The entire dance floor erupted into growls and screeches of congratulations. Ashton’s face, which had paled at the first encounter now bright red, pushing the wolf away. The wolf growled, smiling, pulling him in close, whispering in his ear. His hand gripped Ashton’s crotch, and that was when the entire room smelled it.

His arousal.

Ashton was thrown over the wolf’s shoulder, strutting out of the mixer, with Ashton gripping his shirt nervously. The corner that held the humans who denied the bond and refused to believe in it was now flabbergasted.

“That explains a lot!” Christine yelled over the now thumping music.

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