Page 86 of Pretty Little Prey
From the second she had walked into Bastille on the street outside of the dragon’s hotel, he would have never been able to let her go.
My mate. I have finally found you. Bastille’s heart released a cooling sensation as his blood pumped anew.She is mine.
He stepped closer once more, her sweet scent caressing his nostrils as he breathed her in. The wind tussled her smooth white-blond hair, gleaming with a sheen of icy silver-blue, the color of moonstone. Her beauty made his heart ache.
Then, his mate burst into tears.
Luna sobbed incoherently as she stared at Rohan’s lifeless corpse.
He is finally gone. I am free. Free to live. To have anything I ever wanted.
Tears flooded her cheeks, and she could hardly breathe as her brain processed the drastic change in her life situation.
“Make it stop,” Bastille grunted to someone, but she was hardly able to hear him over the violent sobs wracking her body.
“Why do you cry?” Nikolai muttered to her right, suddenly appearing beside her with his paranormal speed.
“No more tears.” Bastille wiped some of the droplets of saltwater away from her face as he stood at her left. The two large male forms, on either side of her, cocooned her into a cage of heat, of comfort.
Kobe, still in wolf form, barked and yelped and whined at the sight of her tears.
She continued to shake with gut-wrenching sobs.
“Stop crying.” Bastille lightly shook her shoulders, seeming utterly bewildered as to how to make her feel better. “You wish for more pancakes? We will get you more pancakes.”
“I—It’s done,” she cried out through her tears.
“He is dead, lamb,” Bastille said. “Do not cry.Please.” The basilisk sounded pained—as if he felt sorrow multiplied at the sight of her tears. “You are safe.”
“I—I’m finally free,” she stuttered out through choppy breaths. The tears streaming down her cheeks began to drip away and dry.
“You have us now,” Sly said.
Her palm warmed as Kobe nuzzled his wolf snout into it and licked her hand. A broken laugh slipped through the sobs. Until, suddenly, she could not stop laughing. Laughing and laughing—struggling to breathe.
The predators gaped at her.
“She is in shock,” Nikolai informed them. “Her little brain is breaking,” he said in a tender, not-condescending way. Like he worried her prey brain really could break. Like a normal mortal’s might.
“So fragile,” Bastille whispered, reaching up to stroke her hair, trying to calm her.
“Vulnerable,” Nikolai said, meeting Bastille’s gaze over Luna’s head.
She did not notice as the men nodded at each other, seeming to telepathically agree on something.
“Little lamb, we are going to keep you, care for you,” Bastille cooed to her, still petting her hair. “You will want for nothing. My mate.”
Her laughter faded until she frowned and stared up at Bastille in confusion.
The basilisk was being…kind to her? Gentle with her. Might she dare say he was beinglovingto her?
“You will never know fear or vulnerability again.” Bastille cupped her face. “You will no longer be a prey. We will make you strong, make you immortal.”
Wait…what?
“Do it,” Bastille said softly, looking over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, but it’s better than losing you,” Nikolai whispered.
