Page 49 of Feral Possession

Marcus blinked, taking in his situation. He was on the floor in front of the patio door, under a throw. Under his head was a sofa pillow. Outside the ward. He jolted upright. “Why am I not in my room?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Bishop said.

“Shit.” Marcus shoved his weakened leg beneath him and eased to his feet. Strange, but it wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. “Where’s Dove?” Worry tightened his innards.

“Sleeping on the sofa.” Bishop walked in her direction, Marcus close on his heels.

Dove rested on her side, hands tucked under her cheek. Soft breathing noises parted her lips. He exhaled in relief. She didn’t appear injured. By the gods, the things the demon could have done to her. She was lucky to be alive this morning.

“Dove,” he said in a firm voice. When she woke, he’d tear her up one side and down the other. His Chosen slept on. “Dove!”

Worry returned. Finally, he took in her pale cheeks. The shadows under her eyes. Her shallow breaths. “Shit.” He grabbed her upper arms and dragged her upright. Her head lolled. Fresh punctures marked her neck. His heart hammered in his chest. He sat on the sofa and pulled her into his lap. “Dove, wake up.”

Bishop hovered. “You want me to call a medic?”

“Not yet.” Marcus needed to open a vein for her. Something he’d been avoiding since it would deepen their bond. He bit his wrist and pressed it to her lips. “Drink,” he commanded, hoping the order would register. To his relief, Dove complied, her throat moving, her tongue lapping at his skin. His pulse jumped, only this time for a whole different reason. He shoved the feeling back. It wasn’t right to take pleasure in this.

Her thick lashes fluttered, and she drew away, licking her lips. Eyes full of confusion, she peered at him. “What’s going on?”

“Good question.” He became aware of Dove’s soft form in his arms. She’d slept in a lace-trimmed shift. With little but a thin layer of silk between them, her curves were pressed against his bare chest.

Dove didn’t seem to notice. She focused on his wrist, her eyes widening. “Did you give me your blood?”

“I’ll get her some orange juice,” Bishop said on his way to the door, giving them privacy. As usual, the lycan’s instincts were spot-on.

Marcus’s anger returned, his grip on her tightening. Dove would be answering his questions, not the other way around. “Tell me why I just found you near death.”

She squirmed in his lap, her lush body rubbing against his in a tempting manner. Heat flooded his veins, heading south. He gritted his teeth. Damn her for distracting him. She’d not evade his wrath so easily. “Now,” he barked.

She wilted in his grasp, expression defeated. “I screwed up. I always screw up. I tried to warn you this would happen when you insisted that I help you.”

“Dove,” he growled a warning. “Explain.”

She huffed, brushing tangled hair from her cheek. “Everything was fine. I asked your question. He answered. We were talking. Then…” She bit her lip, casting her eyes to her hands in her lap.

“Then?”

“Then I accidentally crossed the ward, and the demon grabbed me.” Color returned to her cheeks. “He mentioned something about hunger, and the next thing I knew, his fangs were in my throat.”

Rage, the likes of which Marcus had rarely experienced, burned through him. “Another male fed from you?” Possession ignited his senses. Marking a Chosen prevented all other vampires from feeding from them. This was unheard of, an unforgivable outrage.

Dove patted his arm, for some reason unafraid in the face of his anger. “Okay. I see where you’re going with this, but you have to remember, technically, you fed from me.”

“Not me,” he snarled.

She winced, scrubbing her forehead. “Oh boy, this is complicated.”

Bishop returned with a bottle of orange juice and passed it to her. Again, Dove squirmed in Marcus’s tightening grip. “Mind letting me up?”

“Go,” he snapped, and she eased from his lap.

As she settled beside him, he caught the outline of her nipples beneath her thin gown. He shot a daggered glare at Bishop, who wisely held his hands up and took a step back. He tossed a throw blanket at his Chosen, covering her. “How are you not dead?”

Dove twisted the cap off her juice. “I used my spirit mojo on him.”

“You can control him?” Bishop asked.

She shrugged as though they talked about the weather. “Apparently.” She glanced at Marcus. “Thank goodness because it kept you from breaking through the exterior door. Best I can figure, the added energy the demon gained from me allowed him to overpower the ward. Also, since I am the one who cast the spell, with my blood in his system, he was able to break free. Celeste did the outside door, but I didn’t want to risk him smashing it, so I ordered him to sleep. Knocked you right out.” She snapped her fingers.