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Savage Hunger(93)

By:Shelli Stevens


The woman, hair white and thinning, adjusted her glasses and flipped open her file.

“These past few days you have acted both questionably, and admirably. Your behavior has been under review by the committee of elders.”

“As I expected it to be.” Warrick braced himself for what was to come.

“It is noted that several days ago you killed a fellow shifter.”

He might know his fate, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend himself to the elders.

“The shifter was feral, Madam Sovereign. It grieves me to know I took his life. But he was just moments away from taking the life of the woman I lo—” he broke off, struggling with the word. “Of a woman who is a friend, and daughter to a close ally of the shifter community.”

“We’re aware of who Sienna Peters is,” a male elder murmured, pushing up the sleeves on his gray robe as he glanced back down at the file. “And that you have chosen her as your mate.”

Of course they were aware. The elders knew everything.

“It does not change the fact that you killed a fellow shifter to save a human. You realize the punishment that can follow such an act.”

At yet another elder’s disapproving words, Warrick’s fingers tightened into fists in his lap. He kept his expression emotionless, even as a small tic began in his jaw.

“However, we will not condemn you to death, of course. You are far too important as one of our own.”

He had known the possibility of death was small, but still it sent a shudder of relief through him.

“Thank you.”

“But when you marked Miss Peters as your mate, you forced our hands in other areas.”

No death. But banishment. Not for one moment had he deluded himself into believing there would be another outcome.

“I accept whatever decision the elders have made about my future.” He blurred his gaze as he stared at them.

It didn’t matter who spoke. Male. Female. The elders were equals, all speaking when they had a thought to contribute. All ready to cast him aside as easily as last week’s trash.

“You are an asset to the shifter community, Mr. Donovan. And an agent of impressive skills, dedication and integrity. We don’t want to lose you.”

Warrick’s breath locked in his lungs. Just what were they saying?

“I don’t understand,” he said carefully.

“Miss Peters contacted us this evening.”

Sienna did what? He went still, ready to ask the question aloud, before they continued.

“She has volunteered to have her memory wiped. To willingly absolve you of any mating commitment.”

“What?” His heart pounded and he blinked hard. He’d heard that wrong. Absolutely must have.

“The memory wipe would ensure that she remembers nothing,” a male elder continued thoughtfully. “The past few days would cease to exist for her, and it would be as if the mating had never happened.”

“No,” he snarled. “I refuse to allow it.”

A murmur of shock rose among the elders.

“Mr. Donovan, think about what you’re saying,” the woman elder in the middle cautioned sharply.

“I know exactly what I’m saying. Sienna is my mate.”

“She is human.”

“I’m aware of what she is. It doesn’t matter.” He pushed the chair back, the wood legs of his chair scraping on the floorboard. “I made the decision to mate with her, and I will accept yours to banish me from the P.I.A. and the community.”

He turned to leave, but froze at the next words.

“I’m afraid the decision is no longer your own.”

The hell they say. Of course the decision was his. And how dare they threaten him otherwise. Warrick swiveled to face them again. Never being one to turn on his own kind—especially the elders who demanded respect—he knew he was dangerously close to doing so now.

His anger grew rapidly, expanding inside him like a dry sponge that had been tossed in a bucket of water. Until his skin itched and he shook with restraint.

“You have no right—”

“Sienna has made the choice for you and is at this very moment being escorted over to P.I.A. headquarters to have the process done.”

The words knocked the breath from his chest like a two-by-four had smashed into him.

“Agent Donovan!”

He barely heard their concerned protests, was already running to the doorway. He jerked open the door to leave and found Quinton on the other side, his brows drawn together.

“Where are you—”

“Did you know she was going to do it?” Warrick snarled, striding past him.

“Who? What the hell are you talking about?” Quinton asked tersely, turning and following after him. His long strides matched Warrick’s.