Page 51 of The Immortal’s Mark

Des, Lome, and Thane wear matching clothes. The navy-blue pants with gray stripes running down the side are reminiscent of military attire. Their crisp white shirts hide their muscular arms and tan skin, but they cannot conceal the sheer size or power contained within each of them.

The trio speaks lightly, entirely at ease. The impending meeting is not nearly as exciting for them as it is for me. I cannot wait to lay eyes on the beings who helped release me from the pain.

My lips lift when Lome playfully nudges Des, and I almost swoon when he bestows a smile upon the youngest brother. It’s so light and breathtaking.

He’s so handsome.

Knock it off.

I lean away from the edge of the balcony with a firm shake of my head.

I have no business ogling Des, and the last thing I want is for him to find me up here.

Lome’s one stipulation for allowing me to listen in on the meeting was that I keep quiet and stay out of sight. No one but Lome, Eshe, and Gregory even knows I am awake.

I press my lips together and tug the end of my clean shirt over the buttery soft leggings Eshe helped me change into. The awkward maneuver was slightly less embarrassing than Gregory carrying me the entire way to this alcove.

Asking for the vampire’s help had been my idea, but I didn’t anticipate how unnerving it would feel to be pressed up against Gregory’s toned torso, breathing in the smell of his spicy cologne.

I’m thankful he didn’t try to make small talk during the ordeal.

In fact, Gregory had very little to say since he arrived in my bedroom and found me awake.

Now, he’s content to stand in the back corner of the alcove, watching me and our surroundings like a hawk.

Eshe shifts next to me.

I lean over and whisper, “What is with uniforms and meeting in the ballroom?”

It all seems a little over the top.

Eshe shrugs. “Thane and Charmian like to project a very specific image when dealing with clans.”

I refrain from asking why.

The brothers have fallen silent, and even my breath sounds too loud in my ears.

I inch forward and peek down, resisting the urge to tap my foot on the floor as I wait for the entrance of my supposed rescuers.

A clock chimes the hour. When the device releases its last chime, the ornately carved doors swing inward.

I dig my nails into the railing and hold my breath.

Alex walks through the doorway.

Every soul in the room exhales.

“Am I late?” he calls out as he makes his way towards the Immortal brothers.

“This is a private audience with the Nightsbane clan,” Thane practically growls. “Your presence is unwelcome.”

Alex continues walking, undeterred. His jeans and crimson sweater interrupt the formality covering every inch of the ballroom below. “I have friends in the Nightsbane clan. They would want to see me.”

“You, a friend of Nightsbane?” Thane’s words are laced with disbelief. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“It is true, Lord Thane,” Alex returns, managing to sound semi-respectful as he slips in the title. “My presence among you may very well sway the clan into agreeing to help the alliance.”

“He’s not lying,” Des says before Thane can express his continued doubt. “Alexander’s coven is one of the few to have established strong diplomatic relationships with various clans and packs. Nightsbane may not blindly follow him into battle, but they will hear him out. Which is more than we can claim at this point.”