But when I push open the heavy door, I don’t find her artfully arranged on our bed in invitation.
Instead, she’s... cleaning the walls?
“What are you doing?” I bark, slamming the door shut behind me.
She jumps, obviously surprised by my appearance.
Then her eyes widen even further. “You’re covered in blood.” Her face goes white, and she takes a step back from me.
“Answer me,” I snarl. “No consort of mine will be a washerwoman.”
Her gaze moves away from my chest to my eyes, then her eyes harden with anger. A familiar emotion from her that puts me on more even footing.
“This castle is filthy. If you don’t want me to be,” she makes the rolling-eye motion, “a washerwoman, then somebody needs to be. I’m not going to live like an animal.”
Her choice of words makes my lion’s ears flick in annoyance. I charge several steps forward. “An animal like me?”
She does not scurry away, though her gaze does return to my chest. I look down to see the blood she mentioned.
I suppose things were a little... more energetic in the dungeon tonight than usual. The parasite was... rowdy before he slept.
This unexpected confrontation has deflated my cock, so I decide to try Romulus’s suggestion.
“Talk,” I bark.
My consort’s eyes go wide again. “Talk?” She laughs then blinks, her impossibly thin eyelids fluttering as fast as a bird’s wings.
“Fine.” She drops a dirty rag in a bucket that I’m not sure where she found. Then she brings her hands to her hips. My fur stiffens. I do not know much of her, but I recognize that when she does that, it is rarely good for me.
“What’s downstairs?” she asks. “In the basement.”
“Talk of something else,” I growl.
She lets out a huff. “Okaaaaay. I’m hungry. Not just for meat.”
I slam my hand on the door behind me. “Consorts should be grateful for what I provide!”
She takes a step back, and then her cheeks get red, right on the top, two little rosy spots. “Obviously, you don’t want to talk if you can’t stand anything I say!”
“Say better things,” I demand.
When she remains pointedly silent, she moves her hands from her hips to cross her arms stubbornly over her chest. This hides her teats from me, and those two points of color are still high on her cheeks. My cock refills and comes back to life.
“Fine,” I growl. “We will not talk.”
I stride toward her. “I will make every part of your body hungry for my every twitch until you obey me.”
“How can you be so full of yourself?” She throws her hands in the air even as she backs warily away from me.
I grin. I like this dance. “Soon you will be full of me. So you can tell me what it feels like.”
But then Romulus’s voice echoes in my head:Ask her questions. Listen to her answers.
I stop my advance abruptly.
She freezes, eyeing me warily.
I clear my throat, trying to remember exactly what my brother suggested. “Questions,” I announce.
