Page 3 of Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren #4)

Duke gestures her to the chair at the far end of the table.

Anka sits, as do I. Lucan follows suit. He doesn’t relinquish his hold on my arm, and I know he needs the support.

He might turn to me because I’m convenient and will expect nothing in return—but at least for now, his heart still belongs to Anka.

“The Anarki plan to attack you here. Tonight, before midnight.”

It’s already a bit past eight.

I open my mind a bit more to Anka. The woman isn’t lying, and she truly has been trying to tell Bram all evening. We’ve only been answering the most pressing or official messages and ignoring the rest. Bloody hell.

Duke freezes. “You’re certain?”

She nods. “I warned you as soon as I could.”

“Why should we believe you?” Ice asks impassively.

Her amber eyes burn. “I’m risking my life to be here.”

Given Anka’s fierce expression, I’ve no doubt of that. I admire the other woman for her grit. But there’s something I don’t understand.

“Why are you fucking the enemy if he works for the monster who raped you?” Lucan snarls, his voice raw. “Especially if you’ve merely come to betray him?”

Anka recoils as if Lucan struck her, pain flashing across her face before she lifts her chin in defiance, her glare turning fiery.

“Clearly, you haven’t been alone, either.

” Her gaze flicks meaningfully to my hand still clasped in his.

“More importantly, you don’t understand what Mathias did. How it changed me.”

“I know what happened.” Lucan’s voice breaks, rough with regret. “I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know that I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“That changes nothing. I-I can’t remember much of our mating, so I cannot simply resume life as the happy mate I’m told I once was. I can’t pretend I’m not damaged?—”

“Nothing he did changes you in my eyes,” Lucan vows, gripping the table and leaning forward. “But what you’re doing with Shock…”

“Is no longer your concern. You expect me to be the same woman you shared a life with. But I’m not. And I can’t undo that reality, even for you.”

“You think I can’t handle your pain? Can’t heal you?” He grinds his jaw. “Or have you lost all trust in me to protect you?”

Anka bites her lip. “We haven’t the time to spare to discuss this now. The Anarki are at your heels.”

“We will talk soon.” Lucan stands so suddenly that his chair topples over. As it clatters to the floor, he stomps down the hall toward Bram’s office.

Anka springs up to chase him…then stops herself. But the way she watches Lucan’s retreating back, her thoughts riddled with both sadness and indecision, wrenches my heart. And when her former mate slams the door to my brother’s office, she flinches.

Duke clears his throat. “Thank you, Anka, for warning us. Go on.”

She blinks, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come to cause problems.”

“What else can you tell us about the attack? How many? Where will they attack first?” Duke clearly understands the urgency of the situation. “And what do they seek to accomplish?”

“I don’t have details, except that they’re gathering a large force. I didn’t hear how Mathias plans to get his army past the magical barriers. Maybe Shock knows a way…” She breaks down in sobs, bowing her head and hiding her face behind her curls.

Seeing her former lover while turning on her new one obviously isn’t easy.

Like Lucan, I wonder why Anka remains in Shock’s bed. Between his low station and low expectations, she must find him “easy” to be with during this difficult time. And after what she endured, she probably needs a great deal of energy to begin healing.

Lucan must realize that, too. No wonder he’s devastated.

“You know what they want,” Anka murmurs.

The Doomsday Diary. Of course.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Damn Morgana Le Fay for creating a weapon that wizards have been willing to fight and die for since its rediscovery nearly two months ago. Fifteen hundred years in hiding swelled the book’s legend. Now Mathias will do anything—no matter how terrible—to get his hands on it.

“Blast it all, why? Mathias can’t use it,” I point out. “And he knows it. He’s not female.”

Anka nods. “They plan to take one of the females from this house.”

“He will never take her.”

Ice’s declaration thunders through the room. I jerk my gaze to him. His eyes burn with an intensity that steals my breath. Not merely protective—possessive. Primal. His jaw tightens as if physically restraining himself from saying more.

“Of course not,” Duke assures. “Sabelle is far too important to the cause.”

As if Duke never spoke, Ice surges to his feet and stalks around the table.

The air crackles with each step until he looms behind me.

His breath stirs the fine hairs at my nape.

His fingers curl around the back of my chair with such force the wood creaks in protest. His body heat pours over me like liquid fire, and his scent envelops me—a musky blend of sage, cedar, and something untamed that makes my pulse skitter.

My body recognizes a yearning my mind refuses to acknowledge.

“As long as there is a breath left in my body,” he growls, each word a vow, “he will never touch her.”

Ice stares at me, looking both protective and beyond resolute. I swallow.

Duke turns to me, wordlessly asking why Ice’s protective nature is much like a mate’s. Of course, Duke is curious. A mating between Ice and me would be nothing short of shocking, and everyone at this table knows it.

Ice is long rumored to be mad, possessed of a murderous temper and the violent streak that goes with it.

I’m not precisely certain why. I’ve never seen a shred of his mad behavior…

but Bram has gone to great pains to keep distance between me and the warrior he sees as a necessary evil to win the war.

Servants avoid him, refusing to meet his challenging gaze that silently laughs at their fears.

But when he looks at me, his stare holds another sort of challenge altogether. It’s tangible. Sexual. Electrifying. Bewildering.

In response to Duke’s unspoken question, I shrug, praying he and the others will ascribe Ice’s possessive behavior to his alleged insanity.

Not the attraction I’m trying so desperately to hide—even from Ice himself.

Whatever the wizard’s motive for this possessive behavior, I can’t accept Ice’s attention…

no matter how much my body wishes otherwise.

“I’ll be all right,” I whisper to Ice, daring to glance over my shoulder at him.

He lingers so close that I swear I hear his heartbeat and smell his body. That scent weakens my knees every time.

“Thank you, Anka.” My voice is steadier than I feel. The smell of fear permeates the room, mingling with the lingering scents of our abandoned dinner. “We’ll protect the house and the book.”

“There’s more,” Anka says, then turns to Duke again. “According to Shock, Mathias has decided the quickest way to ascend to power so he can enact his will is to win a seat on the Council.”