Sure enough, the golden-haired prince is standing alone in the middle of the hallway. Staring right at me. I shiver and snatch my gaze away. My steps quicken. Any faster and I’ll be walking into Tristan, but it still doesn’t feel fast enough.
One thing is very, very clear. Utterly unmistakable and impossible to miss.
This place is dangerous.
Chapter seven
That’s a lot of food. All laid out on the table. Again. There is so much of it, I’m worried the table is going to collapse from the weight.
Several different cheeses. Grapes. Cold cuts, and three gently steaming tureens of soup. Presumably different flavours.
Tristan tugs on my leash. Pulling me towards it, but I dig my heels into the soft carpet and refuse to move. I’ve had enough of playing puppy for one day, thank you very much.
He stops yanking and turns to face me with a questioning look on his obnoxiously attractive face.
“You’ve already fed me today.” I remind him.
He lifts an eyebrow, but he is nowhere as good at it as his brother is.
“That was breakfast. This is lunch.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re giving me more food?”
It is so annoying that I can’t do the one eyebrow thing. Having to make do with glaring is frustrating.
“You are my pet. Of course I am going to take care of you.”
Why does he sound so damn reasonable? That’s not a reasonable thing to say, at all. Abducting people and making pets out of them is not normal or respectable behaviour. Though, I suppose trying to assassinate people isn’t a decent way to behave either. So I can’t exactly take the moral high ground. As much as I would like to.
“Come, sit and eat,” he says.
“I’m not…” I start to snarl, but I’m rudely interrupted by my own stomach rumbling loudly.
Tristan chuckles and pulls out a chair. Fine. Whatever. I’ll eat. If he is going to be stupidly generous, that’s his fault, not mine. It doesn’t make me beholden to him or anything.
I stomp over to the table and plonk myself down on the chair Tristan pulled out for me. Then I start stuffing my face. Since I’m eating, I’m going to stuff myself silly.
A helpless little moan of pleasure escapes from somewhere deep inside of me. Oh my stars. This food is incredible. The flavours are so moreish. I’ve never had food like this before. Even before I was reduced to scavenging on the streets, I was poor. Granny never had much money, and bless her heart, she was a terrible cook. I grew up on fish fingers and Pot Noodles. So this is a food fantasy come true.
Except my dreams of getting to eat good food never included being watched by a freakishly tall man from another world. What a pervert. I glare at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Asshole.
Suddenly, an idea forms. It nearly makes me smile, but I manage to control myself. Instead of grinning, I begin eating in the most disgusting way possible. Mouth open. Loud chewing. Shoving too much in. Using my hands.
There, that should put him off. Any minute now, he’ll change his mind about keeping me as a pet.
My stomach groans in protest. I’ve eaten far too much, far too quickly. Damn it. Reluctantly, I stop my revolting display. I lean back in my chair, rest my hands on my bloated belly, and let out an impressive burp. That will show him.
I look up at him with a proud smile that quickly falters. What the fuck? This bastard isn’t looking horrified at all. He is still staring at me with that far too patient, almost fond smile. Jesus Christ. What do I need to do to this guy to piss him off? Nearly killing him wasn’t enough, but something has to work. He has buttons somewhere, everyone does. I’m going to find them, and press them. Every last one of them.
“Time to go,” he says cheerfully.
“What?” I splutter helplessly. “Go where?”
His infuriating grin spreads slowly across his face. It lights up his eyes. It makes him fuckingglow. I can’t stand it.
“To show you off to the whole court,” he says, as if that’s a good thing.
“Oh hell no!” I snap. No way. Being dragged to the throne room was bad enough. I’m not being paraded around so a hoard of fey can ogle at me. Never going to happen.
