Chapter 322. An Office Romance III

Chapter 322: 322. An Office Romance III

Maisie

"We suffered losses too, boy," Derek’s sharp tone greeted us as we reached the sleek, slate-grey walls of the Council’s boardroom, the argument loud enough to echo down the hallway. "Far more than your puny little villages."

I shifted uncomfortably, my heels clicking against the floor. "You’re sure I can’t wait for you downstairs? Or in your office?" I asked Soren, feeling completely out of place.

But Soren shook his head, adamant, his fingers lacing tighter through mine. "You stay with me."

There was a reedy, manly chuckle from inside. "Tell me, wolf. The lives lost at the borders of my... puny little villages... do you consider them worth nothing because they do not carry the same monstrous, dirty blood that you do?"

"Dirty blood?" someone inside snarled. "Your blood runs as red as ours. I wouldn’t mind spilling some of it if you need proof of that."

That voice came again, sly and cruel. "Yes, of course. Where would you like a sample from? My throat?" Fabric rustled. "Do ensure to give my body sacrifice to whatever demons spawned you. Though, I must say I’m not a virgin. In case they’re more into virgin sacrifices. Speaking of, Ivanov, I hear you took a virgin bride."

My pulse jumped, both at the mention of me, and realizing the faint tingling in my subconscious was because another one of mine was close by.

Soren went stiff beside me, the vein in his neck spreading up his face as we neared the office. I could almost taste the violence rolling off him at the back of my throat.

Shit was about to hit the fan.

Jericho’s warning growl wasn’t enough to warn the speaker off, because he continued, chirpy, "Which one of you went first? Ah. It was you, wasn’t it? Tell me, since your females are such prized commodities, did her cunt bleed gold?"

I felt, rather than heard, the snarl that tore out of Jericho. It shook my bones, and furniture screeched across marble as he shoved the double doors open.

The atmosphere inside thick with tension, and smell of human blood teased my nostrils.

Everyone was on their feet. The members of the Council seemed to have been trying to resolve the conflict, but had retreated several steps away when Jericho snarled.

A dozen human guards had their guns trained on Jericho, forming a protective wall between him and the man still sitting casually in his chair, sipping from a porcelain cup like he wasn’t seconds away from having his throat torn out.

The blood on the floor came from one of the guards, who was kneeling on the ground, clenching his dislocated arm with a red, pained face.

He must have tried to stop Jericho.

I caught sight of Derek, who looked both annoyed and pale as sheet.

"Ah," the man who I assumed was Randall Jr. said, glancing up. "Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence. Your Highness," he purred, then paused. "Right. You were stripped of your title. Peachy."

Randall Jr. unfurled from his chair.

He was lean and tall in an aristocratic kind of way, with an air of nonchalance dripping off him, wrapping around him like his entire mean and disdainful personality.

His brows were the same reddish brown as his hair, his skin paler than Tessa’s with a light dusting of freckles over his delicate nose. He had a sneer, but the dimples in his cheeks took it from ugly to infuriatingly teasing. He looked like a runway model, far from the muscle I now knew I liked in my men, but but he held himself with enough poise and grace that it didn’t matter.

He was handsome and lanky enough to pull it all off.

"Don’t argue with him, Jericho," Soren said, his voice dripping heavily with boredom, though I could feel his pulse pounding against my hand. "He’s pushing your buttons to ruin this truce by the reason of assault." He spared the man an empty look. "Good to see you’re having fun, Randall."

Randall made a mocking face, dismissing his guards with a simple wave of his fingers. "Always so perceptive, Black."

The tension bled out just enough for Jericho to take a forced step back. His amber eyes flicked to me, still simmering with rage.

It had been a long time since I saw him so ruffled, so out of control in public apart from the Court, and a part of me wondered how much of that had also had to do with his deeply rooted hatred for humans.

It surfaced every time he looked at Randall, and I thought that if humans burned my entire family to ashes, rejoicing while they screamed, I would despise them, too.

Then, Randall’s dark eyes lowered from Soren’s face, landing right on top of my head behind Soren’s shoulder.

"What, you bring your whores to your important meetings now?"

My nostrils flared and the tension returned, going over our heads.

Soren sucked in a sharp breath. His hand left mine, his stance shifting, and I knew the human was a second away from getting his neck snapped.

I stepped out from behind Soren, intercepting before either he or Jericho could end this by killing the human.

"Maisie Adams," I said hotly, making Randall’s face slacken in surprise. "The one whose dirty virgin blood you’re so invested in."

My patience was already hanging by a thread after the morning I’d had. I was exhausted, heartbroken, irritated, and my patience was completely gone.

So I leaned into him, relishing in the way his pulse quickened at the proximity. A tang of fear rolled from him as he inched back, teasing my nostrils.

"And as for the answer to your question..."

I paused, contemplating.

Then I shrugged, wound my arm back, and drove my fist into his freckled face. "It’s none of your damned business."

His head snapped back and he went down, falling back into his seat with a pained howl.

"Fuck!" the jerk swore, clutching his face as blood gushed through his fingers.

I wiggled my sore knuckles, fighting off the dark urge to hit him again. And again.

I was going to need to take my anger out somewhere else. A punching bag, maybe.

Behind me, a deep rumble of pure satisfaction vibrated through Soren’s chest. His hand slid around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. "I could’ve warned you, Randall," he purred softly against my ear. "My wife doesn’t appreciate that kind of language."

Across the room, Jericho’s anger melted away, replaced instantly by heat in his eyes as he stared at me, his mouth curving into a proud smirk and I got the feeling that if I decided to continue pummeling the man, he would have cheered me on for it.

My Lycan purred with pleasure at that.

Soren glanced around at the silent, stunned members of the Council, then down at the bleeding human. "Shall we proceed?"