Page 39 of Mane Attraction
The words hit her hard, because they were true. Somehow, impossibly, they were making each other stronger. The mate bond wasn’t just connecting them—it was transforming them both into something greater, something they could only be together.
This is dangerous.
But as Lev’s arms tightened around her and she felt the solid warmth of his body against hers, Xelene couldn’t bring herself to care. She was quickly realizing she was exactly where she belonged.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LEV
Water droplets trailed down the hard planes of Lev’s chest as he stepped out of his shower. The hot spray had done nothing to wash away the adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the arena, or the lingering fury at Crispin’s vile taunting about Xelene during their lion combat.
Your human mate makes you weak, Prince.
Those words had nearly cost him everything. For a split second, Lev’s control had wavered, his lion roaring for blood instead of the disciplined victory required. Then through their telepathic link, Xelene’s voice had cut through the rage like a blade of pure steel, reminding him to focus and stay in control. And at the same exact moment, she was pushing her strength into him through their bond until he felt invincible.
The memory of that power surge made his skin tingle even now. He’d never experienced anything like it—the way her strength had merged with his own, amplifying his abilities beyond anything he’d achieved alone. It should have been his moment of triumph, proof that he’d evolved beyond the reckless prince. But when Councilor Christoph cut the strength test short, Lev felt it was the beginning of something far more dangerous.
Lev grabbed a towel and roughly dried his hair, his reflection in the mirror showing eyes that still held flecks of gold. The strength test had been a setup—he could see that clearly now. Christoph had orchestrated the entire thing, positioning Crispin as his opponent to create maximum humiliation for Lev.
The old bastard had miscalculated though. Lev’s victory had been decisive, dominant, leaving no question about who the superior lion was. But that only meant Christoph would probably escalate his tactics.
Lev pulled on dark jeans and a black henley, the familiar comfort of casual clothes helping to ground him after the formal intensity of the arena. He was reaching for his boots when his communicator buzzed against the nightstand with a sharp, demanding tone.
The caller ID made his blood boil. Councilor Christoph.
Already? The old snake doesn’t waste time.
Lev’s thumb hovered over the answer button for three rings before he finally swiped to accept. “Hello, Christoph.”
“Your Highness.” The elder’s voice carried that deceptively respectful tone that always preceded his most venomous attacks. “Congratulations on your performance today. Quite... illuminating.”
“I’m sure it was.” Lev kept his voice level, though his lion paced restlessly. “Did you call to offer your congratulations, or is there something else?”
“Indeed there is. We need to discuss your companion.”
Companion.
The dismissive term made Lev’s jaw clench. “What about Xelene?”
“I did some research after today’s events.” Christoph’s tone sharpened like a blade finding its target. “Xelene Warren. Elite reputation consultant from Earth. Quite the impressive resume—fixing scandals for billionaires, politicians, and celebrities. One hundred percent success rate, according to my sources.”
Lev’s blood turned to ice. The careful web of half-truths they’d built around Xelene’s presence was unraveling in real time. “And?”
“And it’s fascinating how a prince known for decades of reckless behavior suddenly appears so... managed. So controlled. Almost as if someone with extensive experience in image rehabilitation was pulling the strings.”
“You’re grasping at straws, Christoph.” But even as Lev said it, he knew the elder had found the weak point in their story. “Xelene is still here because?—”
“Because you marked her.” Christoph’s words cut through Lev’s explanation like a sword. “Oh yes, I sensed it today at the arena. The completed mate bond. Quite convenient timing, wouldn’t you say?”
Lev’s free hand clenched into a fist. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Christoph continued with silky menace, “that you’ve found a rather elegant solution to your problems, haven’t you? Hire a professional to clean up your image, then mark her to gain the focus and strength advantages of a mate bond. Kill two birds with one stone, as the humans say.”
“You’re wrong.” The words came out harder than Lev intended, his lion surging forward in protective fury. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? A man who’s been screwing up for decades suddenly transforms overnight into the perfect prince? Please, Lev. Even your father wasn’t naive enough to believe in such dramatic character changes.”
Lev’s grip on the communicator tightened until the case creaked. “The council has been pushing me to find a mate foryears. To settle down and prove I’m fit for the crown. Well, congratulations—I found her.”
