Page 118 of Mage Massacres

Reluctantly.

And with stipulations.

I sighed as she tossed another dress out of her closet. It didn’t matter how many times I’d insisted each of her choices looked amazing; she just responded with an excuse.

“That one doesn’t fit my mood either,” she complained as I looked at my wristwatch.

Again.

We were going to be late.

I picked up the discarded clothes, dropping them on her bed as I asked, “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing now?”

She strutted out of the closet clad in nothing but heels and a smirk.

“What’s wrong with this?” she questioned sarcastically, pointing to her naked body. “Nothing. It just doesn’t say what I’m trying to convey.”

The healing bruises on her hips and thighs spoke of her night with the fae. I was surprised that he left them, but happy he was coming to terms with his lusty nature. He’d been self-conscious of his desires since I’d met him, and it all stemmed back to his upbringing.

The fae queen liked to ruin pretty things.

But if I knew anything about my mate, I knew Sloane wouldn’t allow it.

I rubbed my hand over my mouth, trying to cover my grin. “What, uhm, are you trying to convey?”

She rolled her prismatic eyes, glaring at the ceiling. “That I’m here to do business, but I’d gladly kill them.”

I arched my brow. “No killing.”

She scoffed, mocking my accent as she quoted my argument.

“You can’t barge in and kill everyone at the guild headquarters, Love. We need to know what they’ve been doing and who has been covering the mess up. What if they were spelled too? Or compelled? We have to get answers before we can dish out punishments, and those don’t equal death.”

Then she returned to her closet, speaking over her shoulder in a polished and professional manner. “I’d like to remind you, Mage, that if Alric has spelled anyone, death may be their only option.”

“Unless we kill him,” I suggested before checking my watch for the fourteenth time. “We’re going to be late.”

Her snort was loud and clear. “Not everyone can look edible in a pair of slacks and a white button-down.”

“Thanks,” I commented, adjusting my cuffs. “It does say I’m here to do business, but I taste like chocolate, doesn’t it?”

She leaned her head around the door so I could see her narrowed eyes. I smiled at her, tapping my wrist.

“All right. Fine. Just give me the black dress back.”

I threw my arms up. “They’re all black.”

Sloane smirked. “I know, and I need some color to brighten—”

“We’ve got you,” Hyde called, walking into the chaos with my sister.

Millie shook her head, forcing me to sit on the bed as they disappeared into the unknown that was considered my mate's wardrobe. I was beginning to think that it didn’t have an end, only a mouth that swallowed its victims whole.

Then my mind wandered to my sister, standing beside my naked mate, and some form of panic surged through me. I didn’t want anyone other than me—and the guys—seeing her undressed.

Why was my sister suddenly so close to my mate? I’d never cared enough to bring anyone else home, so maybe Mills would have been like this with other girls. I knew that was wrong as soon as I thought about it. Miller Lynch had always been a bitch to any female around Murph and me.

Was this something Sloane and Hyde did often?