Page 117 of Let Us Prey
My hand comes up to the choker, touching the locket in confusion. “It’s…magic?”
“Of a kind. But don’t tell Flames. I’ve never given him one because I enjoy his tantrums when he rips his clothesfartoo much.”
I grin, thinking about how angry the dragon gets when he half-shifts without warning. I can see the appeal—pissy Aubrey is pretty hot. “Okay, but can we get out of here? I think I’d like to continue the rest of our outing… somewhere less public.”
“Going to put the rabbit back in the cage before we go back to the dance floor?” he asks, holding his hand out.
My lips curve. “Mmm… after I take care of something”
We navigate our way back to the club floor and I tug his hand over to the bar. Rennie gives me a suspicious look, but I shoot him a grin back and bat my lashes. When we’re standing in front of the snooty flamingo again, her eyes widen as she takes in my ears, and she looks over at the gargoyle, who shrugs.
“Thanks for keeping our drinks cold,” I say, picking both up and tossing them back, one after the other. The alcohol burns like a motherfucker, but I look the bird in the eye as if I do it all time—telling her I’m not a bunny to be messed with. “Catch ya later, Lucinda.”
With that, I pull my snickering boyfriend through the crowd, shaking my cottontail in victory as we find a spot in the crowd to get our groove on.
I’m going to call tonight's outing 'Kinks and Bad Bitch Unlocked,’ that’s for damn sure.
SIXTY-TWO
Adventure
Nicodemus
When my phone vibrates on the worktable beside me, I can only assume it’s a text from Delores. Bash has barely spoken to me since ‘Mate-gate’ came to light, and our usually noisy group chat has been weirdly silent.
I’m not an idiot. The wolves are pissed at me and I would bet money on them starting another chat just to discuss my horrible offense, without considering the facts from all sides. I know it sounds paranoid, but based on past behavior, it checks out.
Nothing like an echo chamber to avoid taking a hard look in the mirror.
Cash never explained any of this mating business to me, and he still hasn’t stepped up as my alpha to address what happened, so I’ve just been floundering. Thanks to a Google search, and that embarrassingly educational video in Zhenga’s sex ed class, Inowget how I fucked up, but I was operating purely on unleashed instinct at the time—instincts that I still don’t fully understand.
So now I just get to wait and see how I’ll be dealt with.
Despite the hierarchical drama, I feel better than I have in years. Reaching up to brush my fingers over my newest mate mark, I smile, still in awe over howgoodit feels to be claimed by someone who actually caresabout me. Lo is the first shifter to ever encourage me to be myself—to fully explore who I am instead of playing small to keep others comfortable.
She really is pure magic.
Setting aside the latest letter from D.C., I grab my phone, fully intending to send my bunny a few heart-eye emojis, no matter what she has to say. I almost drop it again when I seeRenardhas texted me instead, asking if I’ll meet him near the prey tunnels.
At the same location where we found the dead fisher cat on Halloween.
My blood runs cold. While the guys still include me in our usual activities, it has felt like a holding pattern—as if they’re still deciding what to do about me and my insolence.
They wouldn’t… they wouldn’t justkillme, would they?
Right?!
I have to admit, the gargoyle would probably be the best candidate to do it. Burning me to a crisp with dragon fire would be too messy, and the twins never dirty their paws if the connection is too close. I still don’t knowwhatpowers Renard has, but I’ve seen him in full shift a few times, and my fox wouldn’t stand a chance against that mass of rock-hard muscle.
Breathing slowly, I force myself to calm down before I text back, telling him I’ll be there in a few. I’m pouring sweat, but I shrug on my jacket anyway, determined to at leastappearto be owning my newfound confidence.
Even if it kills me.
I take one last look at the letter I was reading when Renard texted, deciding that my mysterious contact has somehow become moreandless informative with each correspondence. Every word feels like it’s written in a code no one bothered to give me the key for, and the latest message is no different:
“Burrow deep. Elevate your pain. Follow the light.”
Sighing, I burn the envelope before sliding the letter into the hidden drawer under my worktable that only Delores knows about. Sharing this secret came naturally, just like the urge to bond with her did. Even if my pack decides to banish me—or worse—at least my girl called me by my real name.
