“We’ve scoured the grounds the rest of the day, and there is no sign of the wolf. We’re guessing it’s run off.”
“Guessing?” My brow climbs higher on my forehead.
The man takes a heavy gulp, his throat bobbing with the movement. Funny how he was one of the first to volunteer his services to go hunting the wolf, yet I’m the beast that makes him nervous. I find a sick sense of satisfaction in that realization.
He gives a shaky nod, shrinking further away from me as he does. I sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of my nose, asking the Great Celestials to give me strength.
“Guesses are fairly useless to me if they’re incorrect, wouldn’t you say?” I look at the man through the corner of my eye and see him give a shaky nod. “Fantastic. It seems you have some brains in there after all,” I drawl. ”How about instead of guessing, we confirm it? Hmm?”
The man quickly turns, but I halt him with a piercing whistle. He hesitantly faces me, his shoulders slumped as if trying to protect his body from a blow I haven’t delivered yet. Fucking coward.
“Come back to me only when you can say, without a doubt, that the animal is gone. Until then, you will want to make sure I don’t see you.” There’s a lethal edge in my warning.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Tim/John gives me a salute, which is a fucking weird choice on his part, before he disappears from my sight.
Gravesley is waiting for me outside the door, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the wrinkles lining his eyes are crinkled ever so slightly as if that conversation amused him.
I give him a curt nod of appreciation as he opens the doors to the dining room for me. As I stride into the room, I begin unrolling my sleeve to cover my bandaged arm. It’s not that I think Azalea would be concerned for me if she saw me injured. On the contrary, I think she would find far too much joy in the matter, and I don’t need to give her any ideas on how I can be wounded, especially considering how twitchy her fingers tend to get when she has me and a knife in close proximity to her at the same time.
As I finish buttoning the cuff on my black button-down shirt over my wrist, I lift my head to see Azalea sitting at the table, looking far too pleased with herself. My brows and suspicions raise simultaneously. I was fully anticipating that I would need to send a servant after her, seeing how she refused to eat with me the night prior. I’d already determined that after my decidedly shitty day, I wasn’t going to give her an option in denying me a meal together, even if that meant having to toss her over my shoulder and drag her to dinner myself. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed that things didn’t escalate to that level.
When my eyes drag down to the beast of an animal sitting next to her, my confusion dissipates and everything clicks into place. Of course, she’d be sitting there brushing her fingers through the fur of the ruthless animal that attacked me last night as if it were a pet. Now that I’m able to get a better visual of the beast in the daylight, I can see that it isn’t actually a wolf at all. A groan rumbles deep in my chest when I realize that I got attacked by an overgrown mutt of a dog, and now it’s sitting at the foot of my fucking dinner table. My neck heats, and I make an oath to myself that no matter how crazy it makes me look, I will never admit to the fact that I got bested by an untrained house pet.
“What is that thing doing here?” I bite out, nodding my head to the animal.
“She’s mine,” Azalea chirps with amused finality. Her shoulders shrug delicately, but she can’t hide the smile dimpling her cheeks, and fuck her for making me love that smile so much while rarely blessing me with the beauty of it.
“No.” My voice holds no room for negotiation. “That thing is not staying inmycastle.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Or what?” she challenges, pulling her hand away from the animal for the first time since I’ve entered the room.
“Get rid of it, or I will,” I say through gritted teeth. “And trust me, my methods will be far less… humane.” Not exactly the way I wanted to get back on her good side, but I’d be damned if that cursed creature was about to sleep under the same roof as me.
Pushing her chair back, she stalks toward me with her fists balled at her sides. When she’s within range for me to reach out and touch her, but not close enough to tantalize me with that wildflower scent of hers, she stops.
“I’d like to see you try,” she tests.
On reflex, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck, pulling her body flush against mine in one swift motion. The dogimmediately jumps to attention, a growl ripping from its throat, but even the concern of getting attacked by the beast again doesn’t stop me from memorizing every feature on Azalea’s face.
In this moment, she doesn’t look angry or scared. There’s something else lingering on her features, an expression I haven’t seen from her in a long time—something that looks akin to desire. And most startling of all is that it doesn’t disappear in a blip. Here and gone so fast that it leaves me to wonder if I’m even sure of what I saw. No. This look sits heavily in her hooded eyes as she looks at me through her lashes.
“Call off your mutt,” I snarl, all of my attention remaining solely on Azalea.
I’m waiting for her to come to her senses and for her intoxicating look of arousal to slip away from me once again. I wouldn’t know the dog was even coming toward us if not for the gentle clacking of its claws against the polished floor.
“Or what?” She tilts her chin up at me indignantly.
“Careful, Wildflower, lest you aim to thin my already strangled patience.” Nobody in this world could drive me half as mad as the woman in front of me does, and no one could get me half as hard either.
“Your lack of patience is not my concern, nor my problem.”
Her stubborn attitude both makes my blood boil and my body thrum to life. I feel myself harden and strain against the seam of my trousers, and I’m sure she can feel it happen as well, though she makes no attempt to put any space between us.
After a brief pause, she halts the dog with a wave of her hand, never breaking eye contact with me. In response, the dog stops its slow stalking advances and lies back on the floor with a grumble.When did she even have time to train that thing?
My eyes involuntarily drop to her lips, my mind immediately thinking of all the ways I would punish that smart mouth of hers. Her pouty lips are practically begging me to slip my cockbetween them. And that thought alone has me wondering if the time spent in this castle, in this wretched curse, is truly turning me into the monster she sees me as.
“Maybe you should consider,Your Highness,” she sneers my formal title at me, “that it’s you who should be careful of me.”
