Page 15 of Deadly Ties

Something I plan to discover before the night’s out, given the way my mate reacted to news of the prince. There’s a connection there, which isn’t surprising given the similarities in their upbringings. He’s also close to her age, and from what I saw of him around the Tower and in his personal file, extremely good-looking. Although, as I mount the stairs to the kitchen, I have to wonder if a year in Crouch’s hands has taken some of the shine off the little prince.

A thought that makes my wolf bare my teeth. If Elvi wants him, he better not be broken, or there will be hell to pay.

All okay?She suddenly checks in down our bond, no doubt wondering at my murderous mood.

Just doing the rounds.

I project as much comfort as I can back at her, ignoring the side-eyes from the kitchen staff as I walk through their domain. To some, my face is probably known, circulated by security as a potential threat. To others, I’m just an alpha whose size and attitude are alarming. Either way, no one stops me as I enter a plush hallway through a swinging door, the blueprint clear in my mind as I take in locked rooms and dark corridors. The ballroom is the largest space on the lower floor, accessible by a grand foyer cluttered with arriving guests. But there is a private stairwell that leads to a mezzanine, and I take that, the noises of the party rising as I step out onto a small railed walkway. The lighting is dim, the carpet plain, but it offers a perfect view of the ballroom down below. And despite Crouch’s claims of world-class security, there’s not a guard in sight.

Instead, they’re all down there lurking amongst the guests. Double his usual roster, as I expected, and all dressed in blood-red tactical gear. Maybe it’s to go with the fall theme, which looks to me like a cross between a barn and a séance. Although the burgundy tablecloths are probably good for disguising blood splatter.

And then Lucas enters the room with Elvi on his arm. She looks like a pool of shimmering moonlight, all the gaudy reds and dull browns fading into the background. The whispers and pointing immediately start up, and the flush of pride at seeing Elvi is smothered by a possessiveness so strong, I barely stop myself vaulting off the mezzanine. But instead, I head back down the interior stairs, an all-consuming need burning through my blood. I need to touch her and smell her. To stand between her and all those gawking, calculating gazes.

And if one of those stuck-up bitches so much assneersat her, there won’t be a functioning eyeball left in the place.

Given my murderous mood, I stick to the walls, circling behind them as I track Elvi’s progress across the ballroom. But the gossip and innuendo are impossible to miss. Everyone, including some of the guards, assumes she’s Lucas Ferrier’s new plaything.

“Do you think he’s finally settling down?” A middle-aged omega dripping in yellow diamonds asks her friend. There’s a note of competitive hostility in her voice that sets my teeth on edge. “I haven’t seen anything in the papers. She looks very young, but there’s no denying that mark on her neck. Some wolf has taken a nice big bite out of the juicy little thing.”

Rage writhes under my skin. Some wolf?

Mine. Mine. Mine.

A hint of my turmoil must leak down the bond, because Elvi’s head snaps towards my hiding place in the shadows. I doubt she can see me, but I send her a reassuring smile, while at the same time trying to convince my surly beast this is for the best. As Ferrier’s companion, she will have his protection, while claiming her as mine will put a target on her back.

But then the host for the evening is cutting in front of her, his worm-like tongue slipping over shiny lips. Crouch is an ugly bastard, but Elvi smiles at him prettily enough. My gut churns as he gestures to the dancefloor and she nods. Ferrier doesn’t look thrilled, but that might be because he’s waiting for me to appear and dismember our host. Is she planning to pump him for information while his fat little hands grope her through a waltz? If she is, she better make it quick, because I can already hear the crack of each joint as I bite his fingers off at the knuckle.

Calm down, lover.Her voice drifts to me through the bond.I’m pumping him, like you guessed. And this guy loves to hear himself talk.

Every muscle in my body goes taut.Mention pumping him again, and I’ll show you what arterial spray does to a pumpkin centerpiece.

Perhaps I’ve gone too far, but I think I can see her lips twitch from across the room. It’s fucking beauty and the beast brought to life as she glides along in Crouch’s lumbering embrace. I’m doing everything I can to not flood the bond with my jealous rage, but when his groin slides against hers, my control snaps. I barely see the guests tumbling away as I surge up out of the shadows, stalking towards them with my wolf in my eyes. The violinist slips and hits a painful note, but Elvi just smirks up at me as I drop a hand on Crouch’s shoulder. He gives a squeak, all the blood rushing from his flushed face as I tighten my grip. “You’re done,” I mutter as I thrust him aside. “I’m cutting in.”

Crouch all but scurries off the floor and my thumb goes straight to the mark on Elvi’s throat. “Well hello, stranger.” She looks me over as I lead her around the room, more stomping than dancing. “Based on our little bond exchange, I thought you’d be drenched in blood by now.”

I don’t reply, my teeth clenched too hard to form words.

“This is working out really well. I’m so much safer wearing an anonymous bite mark than being claimed by the deadliest assassin on the East Coast.” She hums as my fingers spasm on her hips. “Of course, now half these people think I’m nuts, dancing in the arms of the Prince of Darkness. But that’s probably better than the rest of them, who think I’m fucking my father…”

I growl, startling the last of the dancers off the floor. It leaves a nice wide gap straight to the nearest exit. “Not another word,” I mutter as I sweep her in front of me, “or I’ll drop you on my cock right here on the dancefloor.”

“Promises, promises,” she grins, but then I’m thrusting her through the first doorway, my wolf pressing hard against my skin. It’s not a cloakroom, but some kind of reception area, empty except for a row of champagne glasses set out for a toast. I back her up against the opposite wall and plunder her lips in a savage kiss. When I let her go, she’s breathing hard, her pulse fluttering under my bite, and I dive down and drag the whole throbbing gland into my mouth. “Holy shit!” She arches against me, then glances at the door. “You’re not worried half the ballroom is trying to peek in the keyhole?”

I think of how many eyeballs I could fit under my size 18 shoes. “Not if they want to see midnight.”

She giggles and presses tight to my chest, but her smile fades as she tries to part her legs. “This dress is a nightmare. I’m basically a mummy wrapped in aluminum foil.”

I run my hands over those dazzling thighs. “You’re fucking perfect. Definitely too good for the assholes out there.”

Her eyes soften, and she stands on the tips of her pretty toes to kiss my lips. I always thought blood soothed my beast, but a little puff of air from her mouth and I’m putty in her hands.

“We should go look around,” she says. “But we need to be careful. Crouch spent the whole time telling me about all his security features, including doubling his usual guards for tonight.” Her lips curl up. “I think he was expecting some hot as hell assassin to make trouble.”

A purr rumbles up through my chest at her hooded smile, but then she looks past me and it shrivels, her body turning to stone in my arms.

I know before I look over my shoulder who’s just entered the room. Their scent is a combination of musk and sweet notes, forged during Elvi’s heat. There are only two of them – the kopil is wisely nowhere to be seen – and their faces are matching masks of frustration, groans rumbling out of their chests as they take us in. It’s music to my ears, and as I tuck my mate close to my side, my fingers trace the exposed line of her neck. When their eyes lock on my bond mark, I give a slow, scornful shake of my head.

The message is clear.

---