Page 61 of Fangs for the Memories (Budapest Bites #1)

I watch Kezia and Sophia moving jerkily across the dance floor, belting out a Killers hit at the top of their lungs.

“Is this normal?” Ferenc murmurs in my ear.

“For them or for humans in general?”

“Both.”

“Yes.”

He snuggles me a little closer. “Humans are weird.”

“Thanks, I think.” I chuckle.

I can forgive my mate anything because he looks so incredibly handsome in the suit he had made for the claiming ceremony. It fitted him perfectly, right down to his impressive bum. Admittedly I didn’t get to look at it much, but even so…

Ferenc nuzzles into my neck. The long pale pink dress I chose, vintage Chanel naturally, altered considerably to fit my changing body by some incredibly talented goblin seamstresses provided by Katya, has a low neckline, mostly to show off my claiming bite, but also because I love it when Ferenc has easy access.

“You are so beautiful, kedves. I am the luckiest werewolf here.”

The reception is, of course, filled with werewolves, along with other great and good of Budapest monster society. The ballroom at the Géllert is, like the rest of the hotel, opulent, filled with marble and chandeliers.

Viktor stands like stone in one corner gazing out across the dance floor, clearly looking for danger, although the only thing which comes close is Kezia and Sophia’s singing.

I thought I saw Dominik earlier, but he seems to have melted into the shadows. Lucy is stood next to the bar, glaring moodily into a glass of amber liquid. However, she has refused to be drawn on the subject of Dominik, so Ferenc declared her in love.

I’ve known Lucy a long time and I’m pretty sure this is not love.

An ogre twice the size of Viktor makes his way carefully around the dance floor until he reaches us. Ferenc doesn’t move from his louche position, nor remove his arm from around my neck.

“Elek.” He nods.

“Ferenc,” the huge creature rumbles. “Congratulations on finding such a beautiful mate.”

I’m not sure Ferenc knows whether to smile or snarl, which has been his default position all night with the well-wishers.

“Grace is my entire world,” he says, “and she will be the making of my pack.”

I feel the blush start from my very toes.

“You have my loyalty, as always, but more so on your successful mating,” he says with what is probably a smile behind the crooked tusks which jut up from his bottom jaw. “Should you ever need an enforcer.”

In the far corner, there is a crashing sound, followed by a bright light.

The huge ogre turns to look in the direction of the noise.

“Nandór,” he growls. “Did you invite him? I can remove him if you want.”

“Nandór?” I query with Ferenc.

“Dragon mafia,” he says, unconcerned. “They’re all flame and no burn.” He lifts a lip to reveal a fang. “We do business, Elek, but thank you for your offer. I’m sure Viktor can deal with the hot head.”

I check around for my friends, taking comfort from Ferenc’s lack of reaction. While I can’t see all of them, no one is reacting to the fuss at the far end of the ballroom.

“Now,” Ferenc says, “I believe it is time for our first dance.”

“Our first dance? Do werewolves do such a thing?” I query as he stands and holds out his hand for me.

“No, but I was informed it is a human custom and one you have always enjoyed.”

This time I really look around for my so-called friends. Because if I catch any of them, I will have to end them.

“Not exactly,” I say through gritted teeth. “I have two left feet, so I don’t know who told you…”

I catch sight of Eliza’s grinning face. The naughty little minx has obviously managed to get to Ferenc at some point and convince him of my desire to dance.

“You don’t want to dance?” He furrows his brow, as a five-piece band walks into the ballroom, instruments in hand.

He still has his hand outstretched and now everyone has stopped to watch us. All save Eliza who has made herself scarce.

The band strikes up, a slow swirling music which seems to be curling back on itself, an ancient, partly mournful, partly joyous tune which I can’t help but want to swing my hips to.

“Everyone can dance to Hungarian music,” Ferenc says, his eyes glittering with wickedness, “even those with ‘two left feet’.”

He takes my hand and pulls me to him, swirling us around in a dizzying set of steps.

“See, you can dance,” he says in my ear.

“You can dance. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Never, kedves. You are my equal in everything, and I would move the moon from its orbit if you wanted it.”

He spins me around again in a room filled with light, with friends, with my new family, with music and laughter.

A new life, a new start, and a wicked, wicked wolf at my every beck and call.

“I love you, Ferenc Kóbor.” I press my lips to his. “And I haven’t ever been happier than I am in this moment.”

“Then let’s make the moment last forever, my beautiful mate. Let the music take us to wherever we want to go.”