Page 81 of Cryptic Dreams
“Now who’s making the other swoon?”
Wraith presses a kiss to my temple and I can feel him smile. “If the truth makes you swoon, love, just wait until I have that gown pushed up to your immaculate tits.”
Just before I get the chance to correct him on confusingswoonwithorgasm,Morgana reaches toward Wraith’s chest as if she intends to touch him and something else inside of me reacts.
My hand snaps out lightning quick, fingers wrapping around her wrist hard enough to get her to finally acknowledge me. She looks at her hand suspended mere inches from Wraith, then follows the black satin glove up my forearm before her surprised gaze clashes with mine.
“Morgana.” Wraith’s smile is full of pride as he nods toward me. “As I was saying, I’d like to introduce you to mymate.”
She looks between us for a few seconds before jerking her wrist from my grasp. “Mate?You? You mean to seriously tell me that this…female… is your mate?”
My spine stiffens on reflex when her puzzled and rather angry eyes narrow on my face.
I’m going to throttle this bitch.
But I keep my mouth shut and give her a tight lipped smile.
“This fuckably delicious goddess of a female is, indeed, my fated one,” my asshole mate says with a shit eating grin. “Zephyr, my love, this is Morgana of London. Hans’schosenmate.”
Her head snaps in his direction, the dig of being someone’s chosen mate obviously getting under her skin, but Wraith just grins and unhooks our arms then tugs me closer to wrap his around me.
“A pleasure.” And it really is, but only because I feel like she’s seconds from throwing a temper tantrum that would cause a very unflattering scene. She clearly came over here with the intent of seducing my mate but Morgana’s plans were foiled, her pride took a hit, and she was insulted in the process because our bond isn’t like anything she’s ever encountered before. She also didn’t notice me until she made an almost fatal mistake but that’s beside the point. Wraith is mine and I am his, no one else matters at all.
“Damn straight,”he growls in my head before leading us around the gaping female. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get my mate situated and comfortable before the meeting starts. It was nice seeing you again, Morgana.”
I take a few calming breaths as we weave through the growing crowd, trying to school my features so they don’t reflect my need to murder another female for trying to take what is mine.
Once we’re far enough away, I allow myself to take in the hall, to really look around and admire what I’ve only read about in books.
High, peaked ceilings. Massive columns along the right and left walls that create narrow hallways behind them, ones adorned in tapestries with various scenes from our history depicted on them. Above the columns are balcony seats, almost like box seats for spectators at a sporting event or an opera, ones that fill with nobles that aren’t part of the Counsel, no doubt. The center of the hall is enormous, the marble floor flawless, a mosaic of Atticus’s—Wraith’s—family crest in the middle, the tiled moonbeams extending in all directions but the ones in the center leading away from us toward the front door are down the aisle in between courtroom like seating, the one leading toward us stopping just shy of a raised platform.
A very tall platform to be honest, with a kind of pulpit in the middle, one for whoever is speaking to the group to stand behind and assert authority over all. Directly on either side of the pulpit are four thrones, the two on the immediate right and left bigger than the ones next to them, and I know without having to ask, those big ones are for Atticus and Wraith, the smaller ones for Drusilla and… me.
Huh.
It’s so very rare for a Descendant to find their mate this late in life, but even so, there was a seat created anyway and part of me thinks it was intentional. A very deliberate reminder that Atticus could take Wraith out at any moment because he was the last of his line and in doing so, he would remain in control for as long as nature allowed. No mate means no young, no young means no one else to threaten his power.
What a dick.
My mate chuckles as he motions toward the seat next to his. “You are correct, my love.” Wraith watches me adjust in the mini throne that was not at all made for comfort, his eyes flaring a bit while I do.
“What?”
“You look positively sexual sitting on a throne.”
I blush—again—and roll my eyes—also again. “I could probably do just about anything and that would be your response.”
“Indeed,” he growls just before he plants a hand on either armrest and leans toward me, Wraith’s expression turning predatory. He brings his face close to mine, so close—almost too close considering the company we are currently keeping—and bumps my nose with his. “There is so much truth to that I don’t know if I can properly convey it.” My entire body blushes as my mate snaps his teeth at me. “Tamping down my desire for you is nearly impossible, my need constant and overpowering. It is taking everything in me right now not to spread those luscious thighs of yours and bury my face between them in order to claim what is mine, every ounce of my restraint not to eat your sweet little pussy in front of the sea of pompous bastards and aristocratic whores that have been lusting after you since we first walked in.”
“While your mate has most definitely created quite the stir amongst the Counsel.” A voice from behind Wraith has his eyes rolling while mine all but bug out of my head in embarrassment. “I would greatly appreciate it if you continued to exercise yourrestraintuntil our meeting is over.”
My beautiful mate huffs out an annoyed sigh before pressing a kiss to my lips, then stands to his full height, angling his body slightly to reveal… “Father.”
Oh. Shit.
I sit up as straight as possible and smooth out the front of my gown. Of course Atticus would walk up just as Wraith started saying things like that to me. Not that he hasn’t been saying them the entire time we’ve been mated, or before really, but I thought maybe he’d tone it down a little since we were attending such an important event. Meeting, not event. Even though it feels like one, what with the red carpet and the waiters walking around, the way everyone is dressed and the soft classical playing from somewhere behind the columns. Definitely what Wraith meant when he referenced thehoity toity bupkislast night while we were talking.
I should have known better, though.
