#Chapter 16 The Wine Is Drugged

Selene’s POV

Woops.

When I asked Drake to keep me company at the party, I planned to flirt and dance, to give Bastien a little taste of his own medicine. Annoyance, that was the plan. An annoyed Bastien is manageable, an enraged Bastien is dangerous.

I stare at my husband with wide eyes. He’s standing in the doorway, on the verge of shifting, fury rolling off him in waves. His metallic gaze is locked on my face, on my tears and Drake’s comforting hands.

Drake doesn’t seem the least bit troubled by the rabid creature looming over us. He slides his fingers from my skin, turning to Bastien with a friendly smile. “Bastien, it’s been a while.”

“Too long.” Bastien agrees, “So long you seem to have forgotten who you’re dealing with.”

Drake rolls his eyes, and I have a sudden and newfound respect for the young Alpha. He may wear the face of a playful rogue, but underneath he is every bit the hard and commanding leader the role demands. “Honestly Bastien, I didn’t think you’d be so ungrateful.” He quips, “In case you haven’t heard, I saved your wife’s life tonight. I wouldn’t have had to if you’d been here.”

Bastien’s claws extend and retract compulsively, betraying the conflict raging within him. Drake’s words were an outright provocation, but there was no denying the truth in them. After a moment Bastien settles into a low simmer, striding past the other man to reach me. He drags me into a tight embrace, cuddling me to his chest. “What happened?”

Feeling suddenly warm and hazy, it takes me a moment to realize he asked a question. Drake – apparently – suffers no such impediment. “You have some vipers in your nest.” He drawls, “It was only a matter of time before one striked.”

I plant my palms against Bastien’s chest, trying to push away from him so I can pin Drake with the full force of my indignant glare. “What happened to ‘heroes don’t tattle?!**

Drake’s face scrunches up in a wince, and I belatedly realize my mistake. I look up at my husband, whose handsome features are awash with foreboding. “Am I to take it you intended to keep this information secret?” He asks, his voice dangerously low.

I lower my gaze, careful not to challenge his dominance, “It wasn’t a big deal.” I argue, “It’s not as if she knew I couldn’t swim.”

I see Bastien’s head turn in my periphery, and realize he’s now looking to Drake, “Who?”

His answer is immediate. “Redhead, blue dress, gaggle of minions trailing after her wherever she goes.”

Ten minutes later the door swings open, and Aiden pokes his head in. “Bastien would like to see you in the great hall.”

to see the rest of the party guests gather within. We move forward, slipping through the crowd until the

hall, the redhead from the gardens at his feet. Bastien gestures us

to do this. Bastien makes short work of her hesitance, clamping one large hand around the back of her neck and steering her forward until she’s kneeling before me. “Speak,” He hisses in

Durand, I’m deeply sorry for the things I said and the way I treated you. I was

chest, and the woman quickly amends her statement.

of me is indignant: I’ll never learn to stand on my own two feet if other people are always fixing my problems for me. The rest of me is gushing pure elation. For the

my vulnerability and weakness.

suggest you never do so again:

to the gathered audience. “That goes for all of you.” He announces, “if I hear anyone speaking about my wife

sat down to dinner, but by the end of the second course, my husband was back to acting as

he’s drunk – but he’s only had one glass of wine. He’s vacillating back and forth between giddiness, aggression, and detachment. One moment he’s so happy he’s grinning like a fool, the next he’s snarling and growling at anything that moves, and five minutes after that he can’t even focus enough to eat

and Bastien’s odd does not go unnoticed. I see his parents exchange glances a few times, but no

party begins to shift toward the ballroom, I catch him. “Bastien?” | say firmly, grasping his

me in a daze. His pupils are dilated

pointedly, checking his forehead for a temperature but finding nothing

young socialite approaches his side and asks him to dance. I recognize her as one of the women who’d been gossiping

member to approach and proposition an Alpha

but I know something is wrong. This is not Bastien. His behavior is completely out of character,

and notice Aiden studying Bastien’s wine glass out of the corner of my eye. I shift in his direction and our eyes meet. We’re both thinking the same thing. Aiden slips

confirmation is all the confirmation

in the future, Bastien has watched my back for years without complaint; the least I can do is return the favor. Doubt lingers in my mind as I search the crowd. What if he will not come away, what if he publicly rejects me after making

risk I have to

of the dancefloor, Bastien swaying drunkenly next to the blonde, who is wrapped around him like cling film. I glide through the swaying mass of dancers, never taking my eyes

a word, closing the distance between us as if in a trance. I rise up on my tiptoes when he is in front of me, looping my arms around his neck so I can speak

back down onto my heels as he begins to turn us haphazardly around the dancefloor, his intimate grip and undulating movements arousing my erogenous zones and muddling my own thoughts. I’m caught between my desire to extract us both from my situation and my instincts

he’s always been, and my body responds thus whether my brain is in agreement or not. Eventually

One moment we’re dancing and the next Bastien has dragged me out a side door and pressed me up

position between our bodies and catch his face between them. “I need you to

confused expression gives way to something feverish and fierce before he takes me by the hand

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