Page 24 of The Vampire's Soul
“I know.” Callan sighed and glanced at Mack.
“There’s no reason to tell anyone. There’s plenty of land here to shift and run when we need.” Mack had shrugged, referring to the castle grounds. “The others can stay in Greenwood, tucked away from most of the world.”
Brayden, Ari, and Vincent had shared a look, probably telepathing, and then nodded.
“It’s agreed then. The SLCs know, and obviously our science team, but otherwise no one else is to know without my express permission.” Vincent sat behind his desk, his gaze sliding between Callan and Mack, ensuring his intent was clear.
When the king gave an order, you listened.
Living in the United States, led by a democratic government, while also being part of a monarchy, was an interesting dichotomy. The Moretti royal family had been clear since day one that they had to respect human laws, but the vampire king was the first ruler.
Rarely was there a conflict.
So, yeah, he’d taken a risk having Ella in Maine with him, but renting the house and popping in occasionally had seemed like a great plan at the time.
When she’d shown up at the castle, it had blown everything. He hadn’t been prepared. Not with her wearing that damn top. All that cleavage...Jesus.
Now Brianna had taken Ella under her wing and kidnapped her. It wasn’t just his wolf he was concerned about. He couldn’t blame him completely.
Mack had finally gained control of the need to fuck five hundred times a day since becoming a wolf—the canine gene clearly a highly sexual one that affected all the hybrids—but seeing Ella had ignited that spark like she was a tiny little bottle of gasoline.
Boom!
“We do have a war to fight.” Brayden interrupted his thoughts.
Mack noticed the room had filled up.
Jesus, he’d zoned out.
“What’s up?” Tristan dropped down beside him.
At least the male had put some fucking clothes on since the last time he’d seen him. Ella’s reaction was predictable. Another reason she shouldn’t be on the castle grounds.
He really didn’t want to kill his friends.
“Hey.” He forced his usual smirk on his face. It was fake as fuck.
“Pretty friend you had with you earlier. Is she mated?” Tristan ripped the top off a bottle of water and downed it, then let out a loud sigh.
Enjoy the oxygen, could be your last.
“Ah.” Mack adjusted his cap a couple of times. “No. No, I don’t think she is. Doubt she’s your type.”
Tristan stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles. “You kidding me? She’s hot as hell. Cute little ass, small tits—”
“Not that small,” Mack interrupted, mostly because if the guy kept doing an audit of Ella’s body, he was going to snap his neck.
Craig would be even more pissed then.
“I mean, they weren’t more than a handful.” Tristian shrugged.
This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped.
“Pretty small.” Mack counted to ten in his head.
“Hard to tell.” Tristan turned. “Was she wearing a sports bra?”
Fuck.
