Page 64 of Bitten By the Basilisk

“Mother,” Silas said tersely.

“What? It’s important to know now, isn’t it?”

“I’ll be courting her regardless.”

“What do you mean, ‘regardless’?” his father demanded.

“I mean that her wishes come first.” He turned his head to meet Alice’s gaze. “Always.”

Her expression softened, and she offered him a small smile.

“I feel the same,” Isaac said in a genial tone, whereas his stare was anything but. “While some treat the mating festival like a political game that must be won, my only priority since meeting Una has been making her happy.”

Their end of the table fell into a tense silence right as Nic and Bruno arrived to take their places on his mother’s other side, the two of them turning cautious once they noticed his father’s stony expression.

“We’re ready for the first toast, Boss,” Nic informed Silas.

He nodded, then used his tail to rise to his usual human height.

“Your attention, please,” he called, raising his hands. Once everyone quieted, he continued. “Thank you, and welcome to the start of this year’s mating festival.”

As a round of applause filled the courtyard, servers began streaming from the doorway leading to the caterer’s prep area, each carrying an ornate serving tray filled with flutes of champagne.

While each guest received one, he gave a short, perfunctory speech. Unlike his father, he preferred not to keep everyone hostage for twenty minutes.

He first acknowledged the other Basilisks, then welcomed Mayor Cassius Mortimer, who had shown up at last. The warlock frowned as Silas reminded everyone to exercise caution while the town’s wards were down.

Lastly, he declared that any disgraceful behavior would result in ejection, both from the town and the pool of mating candidates. He had avoided looking at Lance up until then, but as he made his warning, he held the other shifter’s hard stare.

With impeccable timing, a server appeared next to him with the beer he had preordered, which he took from the tray and held high.

“I now ask you all to join me in a toast.” He waited a short moment for everyone to pick up their glasses. “May everyone enjoy tonight’s dinner. May you all enjoy the town and its special events this week. And may the next few days result in many successful matings. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” everyone chorused.

“No! Stop!”

A second before he would have touched the rim of his beer to his lips, Alice unexpectedly shot out of her seat and grabbed the glass, upsetting its contents. A good amount of beer splashed onto his hand and hers, as well as the corner of the table, immediately soaking into the burgundy tablecloth.

A collective gasp rippled across the courtyard. Several guests rose in alarm, including his father and lieutenants.

“Alice, what⁠—?”

“It’s been tampered with,” she hurried to explain.

Silas hissed, cold stinging his skin wherever the beer touched it. Alice grimaced as well, letting go of the glass to shake the liquid off her hand. He hurriedly put the glass down, and they both grabbed their cloth napkins to wipe off the spilled beverage.

“At first, I thought the glass was enchanted to keep the drink cold,” she said, “but it’s some kind of enervating curse.”

Nic and Bruno appeared on either side of him, poised to protect him from an ambush, their claws out.

His father, livid, swept the courtyard with a glare and shouted, “Who did this?”

Though Silas’s hand was now dry, he doubted he could lift a glass of water without it shaking. If he had swallowed any of his drink…

The fae caterer appeared with a sudden burst of iridescent sparks, still in his apron, his expression full of concern. “What’s happened?”

“Boss was nearly poisoned,” Bruno growled.