MacRieve (Immortals After Dark) by Kresley Cole Page B

turned, frowning at the small female coming into view.
    The one on the stage. The one strung up against a pole—with a black bag over her head. She wore a filmy gown over a pink bra and black panties. She was petite, with tanned skin and the most incredible legs he’d ever seen on a female. Her heart was racing.
    Daughter of Webb. They both drew up short.
    The sublime scent was coming . . . from her.
    This couldn’t be possible. After waiting lifetimes for her, he’d found his mate in the offspring of a male so vile Will couldn’t say his name without rage bubbling up inside him. “That fiend’s daughter is my eternal mate?”
    Munro uttered his thoughts, words that Will knew he regretted the second they’d left his tongue: “This is so fucked.”
    Will couldn’t even process all that he was feeling. Disgust was there, along with the deepest welling of disappointment he’d ever experienced.
    “Why did they black-bag her?” Munro bit out in Gaelic, sounding outraged.
    “Because that’s what was done to the Order’s prisoners. To me !” When the breeze blew her white frock up above her knees, Will noted more of her shapely thighs, his predator’s gaze locking on them. He reacted, hating himself.
    “Will, it does no’ matter who she is—you have nothing to lose with her. I’ll put it simply: she canna be worse than a pit of mystical flames. And that’s your only other option on the table.”
    The witch announced, “The bidding is concluded! Congratulations, Pravus Rule, you have purchased Daughter of Webb. Thank you to everyone for attending this House of Witches—tee-em—production, and be on the lookout this week for our service questionnaire. Pravus, please claim your prize.”
    At that, the mortal’s heart sped up even more. She screamed, but she sounded gagged under that bag. He thought she’d yelled, “Let me go, you sick pricks!” And then she started struggling.
    Hard. Her wrists were bound, looped over a spike above her head. She thrashed to free herself.
    “I should leave her arse to the Pravus.” Even as Will said this, his body readied to fight for her. His Instinct was clamoring for him to save her, to cherish her. His beast prowled inside him, frantic to protect her. Will’s claws lengthened along with his fangs, his muscles increasing in size.— YOURS! —
    Two centaurs leapt atop the stage. One said, “I’m Lord Velees of the Centaureans, and I claim her for the Pravus.”
    Claim her? The fuck that would be happening!
    A Cerunno slithered up to the pole. “I underssstood that we would have her firsssst.”
    “Then you misunderstood.” Velees unhooked her bound wrists from the spike. Immediately she flailed against him, kicking at the centaur. Blood began dripping from beneath her wrist shackles.
    — Protect! —
    When he gazed up at her little mortal form, fighting so bravely—even in the face of her fear—he found himself a bit . . . awed.
    “Will, your female is a terrified girl not twenty feet from you. Her name is Chloe. Gods, man, she’s so bluidy young.”
    Chloe.
    “Right now, brother, she’s losing a fight that is yours to win for her.”
    Not for long. Will’s beast was uncontrollable on the best of days; now, for the first time in Will’s existence, he had a mate to protect. It would rise up like horror embodied against anyone or anything that kept him from his female.
    Munro clamped his shoulder. “I assume you’re going to steal her from the Pravus first and ask questions later?”
    He couldn’t answer, already turning. When his beast clawed at its cage, Will was happy to let it free.



EIGHT
    When Chloe had heard the word “purchased,” something in her snapped.
    This Velees guy gripped her around her waist, lifting her off her feet, tucking her against his bare chest. Still she fought and kicked. “Don u tou ee!” she screamed into her gag, thrashing against him with all her might. “Leh ee o!”
    Screaming, thrashing—
    Her foot struck