Masters of Seduction Volume 2 (Masters of Seduction #5-8)

 

Incubus Casworon Trevanion likes his nights long and his bed full. But as his House's new Master, Cas's love of demon debauchery is over. Like every royal male before him, Cas's mate has been chosen and will be presented to him at the annual Seafarer's Ball. But when Cas sets his eyes on lovely stranger, Lia, all bets are off. He is meant to possess her. But will he discard his legacy when he realizes the female he desires is none other than the scarred servant who scrubs his floors?

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Casworon Trevanion would’ve preferred to remain in Hong Kong for the meeting with Jian, Devil and the other Masters, discussing the pendant Sorin had recently discovered and its possible significance to their cause. But instead he was aboard his private jet, returning home to Cornwall. Tonight the fate of Akana would give way to the fate of Casworon himself. It was the Trevanions’ annual Seafarers Ball, and as newly ‘crowned’ Master of Trevanion it was Casworon’s duty to not only attend and preside over what he deemed was an outdated celebration, but to accept the mate chosen by his mother.

 

An ocean of black water beneath him, Cas leaned back in his leather club chair and flipped through the newspapers one of his staff had placed on the granite table before him. True, there had been a few Masters taking mates as of late, but for an Incubus it was a rather unusual pursuit. An Incubus who didn’t carry the name Trevanion, that is.

 

“Shall we start the celebration now, my lord?”

 

Cas glanced up. The short, stout Watchman with dark eyes stood before him with two frosty mugs, full near to the lip with dark, amber liquid. “I believe it is a last meal before execution, Pennice,” he replied dryly.

 

A grin curved the man’s lips. “Come on, then,” he chided, dropping into the cream leather chair opposite and setting the mugs down on the table between them. “A good pint or two will smooth the way.”

 

“The way to what?” Cas returned bitterly. “Misery? Shackles? Being forever coupled to a Nephilim of my family’s choosing? To bed her, whatever she may look like, and to rely on her and her alone for my sustenance?” A flash of fury rippled through him and he squashed the Times in his fist.

 

After a healthy swallow of beer, the Watchman shrugged. “It is your House’s legacy, my lord.”

 

Cas despised that answer. “We live in the twenty-first century, Pennice.” He sniffed and turned to stare out the window. The night was exceptionally black. “And I am a Master. I should make the choice about who I mate, who I feed from—who I fuck!”

 

Several of the flight crew turned his way, but he paid them no attention. Each one had seen him bare-assed and rutting on this very plane more times than he could count.

 

“Yes,” Pennice agreed. “You should have that choice. But it is not the tradition—”

 

Cas cut him off with a sneer. “Of the grand Trevanions.”

 

“Have you spoken to your mother, your family?” the Watchman asked, taking another swallow of ale. “Perhaps you could persuade—”

 

Cas’s dark laughter echoed through the cabin. “Does one attempt to persuade a feral cat not to consume its prey?”

 

The man’s brows lifted. “Yes, I see what you mean. Lady Kayna is both determined and ruthless.”

 

“Even more so now that my father has ascended to the afterlife. She is finally in charge. After all those years of sacrifice, mating a male she didn’t know or love, a male who was forced on her for the sake of tradition. She wants her position to mean more than it ever has. She wants our family’s connection to the monarchy to grow and flourish.”

 

That last bit interested Pennice very much. He sat forward. “Will the royals be at your mating, my lord?”

 

“That is what I hear,” Cas said dryly.

 

“They haven’t been to a ball in many years.”

 

“My imprisonment is guaranteed entertainment.” Cas reached for his ale.

 

“Dare I say,” Pennice began over a rumble of turbulence, “that as with the males who came before you, there is no requirement to lie with only your mate? She will have to feed you, true. But your pleasure can be found elsewhere…in many beds…” The man grinned over his own near-empty glass. “Against many walls.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes. “I think you get far too much enjoyment from watching me, Pennice.”

 

The man didn’t deny it. Instead he drained the cup. “You do what I cannot. Make another near implode with desire.”

 

“I have told you, there is no issue with you finding a male of your own.”

 

“Yes,” Pennice agreed. “You have told me. But others…” He sighed. “I would be harassed.”

 

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