She shook her head and stepped into sweats and a tee. She usually slept naked, but she wanted to be present for whoever came to help Felix.
No sooner than she had her shirt over her head, Felix’s door opened, and she stepped into his room through the still-open bathroom door, and froze when she saw Zander.
Her breath caught. Her nipples hardened against the soft cotton of her tee, and her stomach dropped like she’d crested a rollercoaster. No one commanded a room the wayhe did. Not even moving, not even looking at her, he exuded so much menace and power it made her bones ache.
He ignored her and focused on Felix, moving to him and leaning over him, then placing a hand on his shoulder and telling him, “Deep breath in, and then let it out slowly. Relax. It’s going to be fine.”
Five seconds later, a hare crouched on Felix’s bed, sliding from human to animal in a microsecond, and Emmy blew out a breath of relief.
And then froze when it hurt.
Zander’s head snapped to look at her, and he blurred. A microsecond later he was standing in front of her, lifting her tee before she even realized he’d moved.
She hissed when he lifted her arm. The muscle of his jaw flexed while he stared at the ripped holes.
“Fucking Alistair. Push the memory to me.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He met her gaze with those devastatingly blue eyes. Not just blue, but crystal-clear blue, like a fathomless deep pool.
Her insides quaked, and her cunt clenched hard enough it spasmed and jerked inside her. His primal, raw presence affected her more than anyone else, as if his very power caressed her from the inside out.
She’d known him forever and accepted him without awe as a small child, but now, there was a sheer, visceral recognition of what he was and what he could do to her if he chose.
She didn’twantto be afraid of him. She didn’t want to respond to him, but her traitorous body betrayed her, heatblooming low in her belly, her clit aching under his stare. Her pulse sped and she knew he’d scent every fucking nuance of her reaction.
“You would refuse a direct order?” His voice dropped, the chill enough to freeze marrow.
When she’d oathed in, she’d promised to obey any order having to do with the running of the coterie.
“I’ll do so, but under protest. I’m fine. I can handle Alistair.”
She let the memory rise and then pushed it outside her shields as if she was telepathing it. As far as she knew, she didn’t have a path to him, but it apparently didn’t matter. She brought the entire thing up. Kneeling. The stupid words. Stripping him. Folding and hanging his clothing like a damn maid who would be graded on it. Getting into position, the bite, and then the fucking. How intense the pleasure had been. How much of it had been performance on her end, and how much hadn’t. And then waiting for him to finish, going through the lecture. Him dressing and leaving. Her remaining in place until he was out the door.
It would be dishonest not to give him the entire session. It was all or nothing, and since he insisted, she gave him everything she could remember.
Zander took it all in. The emotional shape of it. The humiliation she hadn’t let herself feel until forced to remember it. His jaw clenched, and his hands flexed once, twice, like he wanted to strike something and couldn’t decide what.
Spence entered quietly, a tray in hand. The scent of rich, nourishing food filled the room — sautéed mushrooms, wild rice, kale, toasted pecans.
Zander turned to Spence without softening. “She’ll witness it.”
Spence didn’t ask whatitwas. He just nodded once, carefully.
Zander looked at her again, those devastating eyes now a cold, icy blue. “Be in the statue garden in twenty minutes to witness Alistair being whipped and violated in the statue garden before all who wish to bear witness. He will kneel before you at the end and offer apology. Whether you accept it or not will be entirely up to you. Either way, he’ll only feed with a chaperone in the future, until he can prove responsible with valued flock members again.”
Emmy’s heart stuttered. “No,” she said. “Please don’t do this. It’s—”
“It isn’t negotiable,” he said, and he turned back to the hare on the bed. Without touching him this time, Felix was suddenly back, and Zander stared at him a good thirty seconds before saying, “You weren’t due for your rough night until the next feeding?”
Felix shrugged. “I went an extra feeding between rough nights last week, because of the boat trip. I was due for a shortened span, I just hadn’t known ahead of time it would be tonight, Master Zander.”
“How long has it been since he’s had one of his extreme nights?” Zander asked Spence, who looked at his phone and said, “He’s due in another ten days, Sir.”
“Slot us into it, Dearest.”
He looked at Emmy and said, “Eighteen minutes,” and walked out without another word.
