Dangerous Mating (A.L.F.A., #3)(44)



Goddard stepped back and looked her over. “So fortunate for me. How have you, a female human, come to such knowledge?”

She pulled her shirt collar to the side revealing her mating bite marks. “Remember that boyfriend of mine? He happens to be my mate. My shifter mate. I’ve studied their traditions and ways and understand their history.”

His eyes grew wide. “Your boyfriend is a shifter? Another one in my town?” He stepped up to the bars. “You will tell me where he is.”

She frowned. How long could she keep this going? Wake up, Bryon! “Like I’m going to tell you that and let you find him.” She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes.

“Then I have no further use for you.” He walked away. “Guards, have someone kill her.”





Chapter Thirty-one




Fuck! That’s not what she wanted. She clutched the bars in her dungeon cell and scrambled for something to say that would make Goddard want to keep her alive. She’d already told several lies. Why not a few more. If the poison didn’t wear off Bryon soon, they would both be dead shortly.

“There is a way to possess their body if you really want it.” The prince stopped and turned to her.

“You said there is no way because of the creature inside.”

She swallowed again. A glass of non-poisoned water would be great. “That’s right. You have to draw out the animal essence before you can take over.”

He hiked his fists onto his hips. “Why have I never heard of that before?”

“Duh, how many shifters have you dealt with before now? That would be the huge grand number of one.”

Goddard pinched the bridge of his nose and paced. “Female, you have been a thorn up my ass for too long.”

“Usually it’s a thorn in your ass. But up it sounds just as painful if not more so.” She sneered at him.

He spoke to his men and pointed to her. The guy with the key came forward and unlocked the door. He grabbed her arm and jerked her front and center.

“Now tell me how you draw out the essence of the animal.” He stared down at her, only inches away. Being scared shitless almost stopped her heart.

“It’s a ritual that requires proper setup and procedure to work.”

He remained quiet for a second. Would he buy this? She was selling some really deep shit here. Time to get her waders on.

“What do we need?” he asked.

She scoured her mind for something, anything, to help. Ritual scenes from movies she’d seen popped into her mind. “Candles. We need lots of candles.”

He looked at his men standing around. “You heard her. Bring me every candle in the castle.” The men disappeared quicker than she thought possible, leaving her alone with him. “You know, female. If this doesn’t work, you will die slowly and painfully.”

Words did not make their way to her mouth. That “being scared shitless” thing was back in full force. Not that it had ever left.

She cleared her dry throat. “It will work. I know what I’m doing.”

“It better. For your sake.” She’d heard that exact line in a movie more than once. She felt like looking around for hidden cameras, waiting for that guy from Candid Camera to walk in and tell her this was all a setup. Damn. She was becoming delirious. She needed to focus on a plan, not break down. FBI agents didn’t do hysterics. Quickly, men returned with candles. By the looks, the wicks and wax may have been original to the castle. She wondered if they’d even burn.

“Set the candles in a circle around the ceremony site and light them. We’re creating a circle of protection. It’s important to keep evil from entering.” She glanced at Goddard. “I mean, keep evil from leaving.”

“Next,” the prince said.

Yeah, next. What else did they use in rituals? “Chanting. We need chanting next.” The prince’s brows raised. “Have you heard of Lady Gaga?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Never mind.” She turned to the men. “Here’s the chant: Rah rah ah-ah-ah. Ro mah ro-mah-mah.” She repeated the lyrics several times and they picked up on it quickly. It was the perfect chant if done with a slow tempo and deep, male voices. She knelt next to Bryon’s head and pushed up his eyelids. She jerked back, startled at the very eerie look of only the whites showing.

The prince frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just when eyes are like that with only the whites showing, it looks like the person is”—the irony didn’t escape her—“possessed.”

The prince laughed. “Not yet, dear child. Not yet. Now make haste. I grow weary and skeptical of this. If this is a charade, your pain will be immense and long-lasting.”

She was very sure it would be. The thought kept her brain processing, thinking of ways to stall to give the poison time to get through the wolf’s system. “We have to call to the powers that be and beseech their guidance and prayers for success.”

Goddard wrapped a hand around her throat. “There are no deities on this planet with power. You lie.”

“No,” she squeaked. “This isn’t godlike power. It’s . . . it’s . . .” Oh god, this was it. She was going to die at the hands of a demon older than dirt unless she thought of something good. Her mind reeled through every book she’d read and movie she’d known, searching for something that would remotely make sense as an answer. The solution came to her. “It’s the force.”

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