Page 87 of Siren’s Secret

Some of the crackle absorbed back into Wayla’s skin and she sighed. Irishen leaned in to kiss her brow.

“And what about the mate part?” Zahir asked, eyes closed. He must have felt all eyes on him because he just shrugged. “Had to ask. Hellion is vibrating out of his skin.”

“You need to feed,” Sinister muttered to Zahir.

“No, I—”

“How can you expect Ro to believe it’s all right if you—”

Before the two of them could spiral down the same argument yet again, Marc lifted his hand, like he was back in school, and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” Irishen said.

“Just to have all my facts straight… Jarred claimed Wayla, and she accepted?”

“Yes,” Jarred purred.

“And she claimed you back?”

“Yes.”

“Bonded and all that?”

“Where are you going with this, Marc?” Grant wanted to know.

“Yes,” Jarred replied smugly.

“Okay. And then Irishen. Mates? You two are fucking mates? Bonded mates?”

Now it was Irishen’s turn to bite back a smug smile when he met Marc’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Fuck this!” Hellion stomped out the door. If Marc hadn’t been hyper aware of Wayla’s every expression, he would have missed that fraction of a second of hurt that shone in her eyes before she closed everything down.

Mates. They were fucking mates. Marc wanted to curse and groan and smack himself. They had gone ballistic on her for… talking to her fucking mate.

“Wayla.” He waited until she met his gaze. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’ll do better.” He meant every word.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed before hesitantly replying, “Okay.” She relaxed a bit and leaned against Jarred. He kept massaging her throat and whispered something too softly for Marc to hear.

“Now that that’s sorted out…” Grant sighed. “What’s the deal with Elena?”

Wave groaned and proceeded to give them a recap. No one in the room looked happy by the time she finished.

“You should move in here,” Marc blurted out.

“No,” Wayla shot back immediately.

Irishen gave her a smile and tapped the tip of her nose. “You promised to think about it.”

“Would you move?” She looked certain about the answer, but Irishen kept his smile easy when he replied.

“Yeah.”

“Hmph. Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good mate.” Irishen leaned down and kissed her hard. Wayla strained against Jarred’s hold on her throat, but the whimpers that fell from her told Marc she was loving every second. Marc didn’t need to be a genius to know they were throwing off enough sexual energy to fill up a stadium. Sinister confirmed his observation.

“For fuck’s sake, Zahir. Feed. Wayla doesn’t mind.”