33. Aurelia
Chapter 33
Aurelia
I ’d enjoyed being watched the first time I entered The Jewel of the Jungle. Hell, I’d even enjoyed being seen naked that one time when I’d had no spare clothes and I’d landed at that human service station.
But this type of entrance is something from a nightmare. It’s humiliating and degrading—everything it’s intended to be. My feet hurt from being denied shoes, and the skin of my neck is in rotten agony. Before dawn this morning, Xander had replaced my collar so quickly that I’d barely had time to protest before my screams of agony forced me to my knees.
He’d watched me writhe with no expression before commanding that I get into the car.
It takes everything in me to keep a straight, stone-like expression, because the only thing worse than being naked in this place is being naked and clearly distraught.
Is it worse than being dragged up the aisle in my shark form, suffocating in long miserable seconds? I can’t even say. Every bad thing that’s happened during my stay at Drakos Estate has blended together in one giant mass of tar, sitting at the bottom of my gut, trying to pull me under.
My anima hides her face under her wing, whining in pain at the memory of our ex-mate burning our new, thicker collar onto our skin. Since his wedding, Xander has been even quieter than before, his power not pulsing, but thrashing . It feels like it would only take one small push and he’d burn everyone to high hell.
We walk on the edge of a knife, he and I.
So many things in common.
But it’s made him a prickly, nasty thing. And clearly murderous, judging by that display outside. A young serpent had died because he and a few others had kidnapped me. Had been about to start torturing me, too, if it weren’t for the nasty dragon that came in and killed all of them except Natalia, whom they’d then spent days torturing until I’d called Ghoul and organised her escape.
The fact that Xander was rubbing it in his father’s face showed just how far gone he was. Just how different he was from the the dream I’d seen: the boy who’d seen his mating group mark for the first time and jumped for joy.
I try to keep in Xander’s shadow as we walk in, but it looks like we’re the last to the table, so everyone sees us. My one saving grace in this situation is Eugene, protected and invisible in a shield bubble of mine. He sticks close to my ankles, his silken feathers brushing the side of my leg to let me know that he’s here with me. That I’m not alone and there is one person on my side.
Drinks are already being poured in the main room, where tables have been pushed together to make a bigger one.
There is only one seat left.
And there is also a person missing from this criminal underworld meeting. Only one of my mates is here—Ghoul stalks behind me, simmering with excited energy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that nasty thing is looking forward to this.
Scythe is the only crime lord of the state not present, and I’m guessing it’s from a lack of invitation.
Though my anima whines, I’m glad my great white shark, wolf and lion are not here. It would be a greater torture for them to see me like this and not be able to do anything.
As Xander takes the final seat, I take my mark from the other attendants and stand next to Xander’s chair, using the tall back of it to cover as much of my body as possible. Even then, it doesn’t stop the leering. Each crime lord has three to four guards standing behind them, all massive don’t-mess-with-me type animuses. Xander is the only lord with no retinue.
One of the two other animas in the room catches my eye with a smirk.
“Property of Drakos Estate,” drawls the Collector, looking fashionable in a twenties bowl hat and off-the-shoulder black dress. She holds her cigarette so delicately between the fingers of her propped-up hand. “Well, well, well. That collar looks like it chafes, Lady Boneweaver.”
Amused chuckles surround me and I try to meet them eye to eye, I really do. But it’s so fucking hard when I’m being put in this humiliating position. Heat floods my cheeks and the backs of my eyes burn as they laugh at me and my naked body.
Damn Xander Drakos. Damn Flores Drakos and his whole fucking lineage. Someone on the far left of the table shifts and a glint of metal catches my eye. When I see who it is, I stare.
And stare again.
Because sitting next to his father, Tiberius Clawson, is Minnie’s ex-mate, the dark-haired, black-eyed brute called Titus. And they weren’t kidding when they said I’d broken his jaw when he’d held me captive in his mouth that one time. He has no lower jaw now, not one made of flesh, anyway. It’s been replaced with some ingenious avian healing craft made purely of steel, including his lower teeth.
The overall effect is terrifying.
“Fetch me a glass, Spawn,” Xander says, his voice strangely low. “Double whiskey. Neat.”
The breath freezes in my lungs as Xander flicks his wrist, separating me from my leash. Suddenly, I’m left cold and bereft as everyone watches me with great interest. I raise my chin and finally work up the courage to lower my arms from my tits as I walk towards the bar all the way at the other side of the table. Somebody audibly smacks their lips, and another noticeably adjusts himself in his seat, but I put on my best resting bitch face and ignore them, keeping my eyes on the whiskey glass and bottle I need. The only thing keeping me from bursting into tears is Eugene’s warm presence at my calf. He pecks me once, to let me know we have to concentrate. I listen to him, knowing this is sage advice.
It’s not until I’ve poured the drink and turned back around that I see Ghoul casually stalking past Titus. The basilisk sneers, “I like the cyborg look.” Quick as an adder, he gives the gleaming metal a little flick with his fingers. The metal pings like a bell.
Titus reacts instantly, shoving back his chair and lunging at the basilisk with a snarl. Tiberius and the feline on the other side of Titus grab him, holding him back as Ghoul hisses, flashing his fangs before cackling with mirth.
Lady Hyena thumps her black cane on the ground in a way that tells me it’s heavier than it looks and metal at the base. “If we’re all quite done, shall we begin?”
Everyone settles down, with Titus shoving off his father and sitting back in his chair. I let out a slow breath as I set Xander’s glass on a coaster on the table and he flicks his wrist to chain me up again.
“Start with our great white shark issue,” the Collector says, wineglass in hand, cigarette dangling between those same fingers. “What are we going to do about that, Your Majesty?”
All eyes move to the serpent king, whose gaze I’ve been avoiding this entire time. His presence is like a shadowy cloud—that could be Ghoul’s shadows snaking around him where he guards to the right of the king’s chair, but my father has his own sort of corrupt darkness that eats at the very air. I also know he enjoys the fact that the table will be hanging onto his every word.
“It will be taken care of,” Mace says. “Tiberius and I will be working on a solution that I will not state here.” His eyes flick to mine, the implication clear. I could snitch on any plans laid out in this room.
“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. “ You could 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. Quicker than 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.
Xander roars and everyone goes flying?—
Until one of the falcons whips out his handgun and shoots three times at Xander’s chest. The dragon dodges them all, ducking to the side. I go swinging to the ground, scraping my knee and I double over, grunting in pain. A bullet catches one of the serpent generals in the stomach instead and he goes down. I’m yanked forwards once again, this time landing on my ass. Xander is snarling in the face of the shooter, breaking his hand and snapping his neck like it’s made of wood.
“How do we stop him!” someone cries. There are people running around but I can’t make head nor tail of them. I’m pretty sure the serpents have fled.
I yank hard on the chain, because I’m sick of being dragged around like this. Xander roars, turning on me.
“Where are his earphones?” I scream. “Get his earphones!”
Xander leaps on me, his face contorted into an expression of rage, shoving me back onto the ground.
But I’ve seen all the rage he has to offer me already. I’m no longer afraid of his anger, nor his betrayal. With his body heavy on my own, I do the only thing that’s left to do and cover his mouth with mine.
The dragon stills in shock, magma solidified into stone. His lips are firm until I take the opportunity to prise them open and slip my tongue inside.
His mouth softens. Xander moans, meeting my tongue with his.
Encouraged, I bury my hands in his hair, pushing the long length of it back as I suck on his lower lip.
“His earphones!” I telepath to whoever the fuck is left in this place.
Xander growls as if the telepathic waves have distracted him, and he goes to lift away from me. But I arch my naked body up into his and his hand finds my neck, squeezing possessively as he tongues my mouth. I moan into him, our tongues dancing in a dangerous, seductive tango. I’ve waited so long to kiss Xander, thought about it during class, imagined what the taste of him would be like while I was tangled with my other mates.
The reality is nothing like I’d imagined.
His power is darker and more foreboding than the others, wrapping around me as if he wants to drag my soul to hell with his. His body might be a furnace, but his mouth is like the inside of a volcano, demanding and greedy. He tastes like fire on my tongue, the pressure of ancient volcanic rock and the scent of flowing molten lava. A rumbling sound courses through his chest and into mine, and that hand clutching my neck slides to cup my breast. His thumb runs across the taut bud of my nipple and I moan into his mouth again.
“Earphones,” drawls a voice from somewhere above us. They clatter to the floor on my right and I break off the kiss to grab them.
Xander’s mouth moves to savour my cheek, then my neck as I snatch up the two black pieces of plastic. The dragon toys with my nipple as he licks my neck, growling and scraping his teeth against my skin.
It feels so dangerously good that I worry I’ll miss it.
But it can’t be helped. I move Xander’s hair aside and put one earphone in, followed by the other, hoping beyond hope that his music will automatically take up the previous track.
I know something has changed when Xander goes still again. This time, when he lifts his head, his eyes are starlight white.
There’s a moment then. Hot, disastrous, and smoky between us. When time seems to lose its place and neither of us understands quite what just happened. I see it then. In another time and place, where we’re not enemies. Where he could have worshipped me. When I would have freely loved him.
The moment shatters when he jumps off me with a strangled sound of disbelief. My collar is yanked, my skin burns, and I leap to my feet.
“What the fuck happened?” Xander says, his head lowered in a predatory stance as he turns to survey the room through the smoke. The table still on fire, the broken chairs, the blood splattered on the floor and the two dead bodies. One serpent, one falcon.
“You don’t remember?” I ask.
Xander exhales, more black smoke joins the mix.
A slow clapping sounds from our right.
Ghoul is leaning against the wall nearby, one foot casually braced on the wall behind him and a joint dangling from one hand. “Nicely done, sweetheart,” he says mildly to Xander. “I always knew you had it in you.”