Page 115 of Pretty Little Prey
Bastille moved forward, taking his time with each step. He did not yet notice Luna laying over a corpse behind Daxton’s wings. “Where is my mate?” the king of the Dark Ones asked in such an ominous manner that the lights in the room might have flickered at the sudden chill.
“You can take her!” a woman in the crowd shouted.
Daxton made eye contact with the random woman and opened his mouth wide enough for her and the others to see flames swirling in it. Ready to turn them to ashes where they stood if another person commented about his mate.
“No music?” The fox shifter with Bastille’s group tsked. “I thought Light Ones knew how to throw a party.”
Daxton stepped to the side and retracted his wings into his back, so the men could see Luna’s shivering form stretched over the dead man’s chair. Upon seeing her, the Dark Ones shot forward.
“What happened?” Nikolai asked, blurring until he appeared right by Luna’s side. The others were there a second later, placing a hand on her, checking her for injuries.
“Moonbeam?” the werewolf grunted into her hair as he nuzzled her. NuzzledDaxton’smate.
Jealous, Daxton ground his teeth and spat out, “She has just killed.”Because of what you did to her.
Nikolai cursed and petted her hair. Sly flinched. Kobe continued to hold her tight.
Meanwhile, cool and collected Bastille took in the scene and shot back, “Lynx the sphinx?”
“She drained him of blood.”
Bastille snorted. “Good. The guy was an asshole.”
Chapter 45
“This is your fault,” Daxton bit out, glaring at Bastille as Luna slept off her “big meal” inside his bedroom chambers, just a few feet away from the men, on the massive bed.
The dragon’s bedroom was expectedly over the top with dark wood and maroon and gold embellishments everywhere.
Bastille knew Sly would have his pockets full after swiping a few expensive baubles as the dragon focused his anger on Bastille. Even though the Dark Ones did not need more money, Sly was a shoplifter/pickpocket by heart. Fox shifters did what they had to in order to survive. So did orphan basilisks and abandoned werewolves and outsider vamps.
The king of the Light Ones knew nothing about striving to survive.
Bastille scowled right back at the dragon. “It’s my fault you starved her until she slipped into bloodlust and killed someone?” He wanted to kill Daxton and carry Luna away from the palace that had caused Bastille so much strife when he was younger.
“Fighting like this solves nothing,” Nikolai said. “She killed someone. She will now live with the instinct to do so again. She’ll…dream of it for years to come.”
Daxton stepped forward and jammed a finger into Nikolai’s chest. “You doomed her to this.”
Nikolai glanced down at Daxton’s finger on his chest, not seeming particularly surprised at the accusation. The vampire’s head fell forward as he nodded, accepting the responsibility and guilt.
Did Daxton not understand why Bastille had Luna turned? It was for hersafety. She would live forever now. She was now as physically strong as she had always been on the inside. His mate was born a warrior. Now she could fight any battle she wanted, all by herself—with her deadly basilisk waiting, lurking, in the background in case she needed him.
“You said you might have some witches who could turn her back into a prey?” Sly asked, trying to abolish the tension in the room.
Daxton nodded.
Bastille groaned and threw his hands up in the air. “You would take away her strength? Her immortality? Over one little kill?”
“She doesn’twantto be a vampire.”
“Who cares what she fucking wants as long as shelives?” Bastille exasperated.
“Get him out,” a feminine whisper came from the grand four poster bed. Luna was waking.
Bastille’s heart galloped in his chest as he peered at his mate.
Kobe smiled from his spot closest to her, rubbing a hand over her back. “Moonbeam.”
