“He will never take her.”
Ice’s declaration thunders through the room. I jerk my gaze to him. His eyes burn with an intensity that steals my breath. Not merely protective—possessive. Primal. His jaw tightens as if physically restraining himself from saying more.
“Of course not,” Duke assures. “Sabelle is far too important to the cause.”
As if Duke never spoke, Ice surges to his feet and stalks around the table. The air crackles with each step until he looms behind me. His breath stirs the fine hairs at my nape. His fingers curl around the back of my chair with such force the wood creaks in protest. His body heat pours over me like liquid fire, and his scent envelops me—a musky blend of sage, cedar, and something untamed that makes my pulse skitter. My body recognizes a yearning my mind refuses to acknowledge.
“As long as there is a breath left in my body,” he growls, each word a vow, “he will never touch her.”
Ice stares at me, looking both protective and beyond resolute. I swallow.
Duke turns to me, wordlessly asking why Ice’s protective nature is much like a mate’s. Of course, Duke is curious. A mating between Ice and me would be nothing short of shocking, and everyone at this table knows it.
Ice is long rumored to be mad, possessed of a murderous temper and the violent streak that goes with it. I’m not precisely certain why. I’ve never seen a shred of his mad behavior…but Bram has gone to great pains to keep distance between me and the warrior he sees as a necessary evil to win the war. Servants avoid him, refusing to meet his challenging gaze that silently laughs at their fears.
But when he looks at me, his stare holds another sort of challenge altogether. It’s tangible. Sexual. Electrifying. Bewildering.
In response to Duke’s unspoken question, I shrug, praying he and the others will ascribe Ice’s possessive behavior to his alleged insanity. Not the attraction I’m trying so desperately to hide—even from Ice himself. Whatever the wizard’s motive for this possessive behavior, I can’t accept Ice’s attention…no matter how much my body wishes otherwise.
“I’ll be all right,” I whisper to Ice, daring to glance over my shoulder at him.
He lingers so close that I swear I hear his heartbeat and smell his body. That scent weakens my knees every time.
“Thank you, Anka.” My voice is steadier than I feel. The smell of fear permeates the room, mingling with the lingering scents of our abandoned dinner. “We’ll protect the house and the book.”
“There’s more,” Anka says, then turns to Duke again. “According to Shock, Mathias has decided the quickest way to ascend to power so he can enact his will is to win a seat on the Council.”
Chapter
Three
That makes my heart stop. “There are no open Council seats. There haven’t been for decades.”
Anka’s thoughts assail me, and the devious truth makes me gasp. I turn to look at Duke, who suddenly wears a grave expression.
I gape, ice freezing my veins. “He’s going to assassinate a Council member?”
“The plan is to start with one. But eventually…” Anka’s unfinished sentence hangs in the air like a death knell.
Mathias plots to kill them all. The realization hits me with the force of a physical blow. But how else would he gain complete control of magickind? That means if he hasn’t already targeted my brother, Bram is now on his hit list.
My stomach knots so tightly I can barely breathe. Dizziness assails me. These stunning revelations collide with my sleepless nights, skipped meals, and the inattention to my magical energy. Black edges my narrowing vision as I melt toward the ground.
Suddenly, I feel strong hands beneath me, lifting me into iron-band arms. I look at my rescuer, but already know I’ll find a bare stubble of black hair and vivid green eyes penetrating me all the way to my soul.
Gently, he sets me back in my chair. “You’re overdoing it. Enough.”
He’s wrong. I haven’t done anywhere near enough to save us. Bram isn’t improving, and Mathias is plotting to take down the Doomsday Brethren, steal the diary, and kill Council members.
“You’re certain?” I ask Anka, my voice weak.
Biting her lip, Lucan's former mate nods. “I ran here to tell you. I know you have no reason to trust me. My association with Shock in no way transfers to Mathias. After what he did to me, I hope he burns in hell, and I’ll do whatever I can to help, even pass on information.”
From her current lover to her previous one and his friends. A dangerous game of divided loyalties that could get her killed.
“We appreciate anything you can tell us,” I assure.
The suspicion leaves Duke’s expression, and his face softens. “Be careful.”
