I marched straight to the window and leaned halfway out, glancing slowly left and then to the right. My eyes stopped on a furry tiger that stared right back at me, not five feet away. I gaped at him, utterly dumbfounded.
I sputtered, “King Athon, those are my mother’s favorite flowers you’re relieving yourself on.”
The tiger blinked…and shuffled forward on his paws.
Then he started peeing again—alotof Fae damned piss.
All overthe entire cluster of flowers.
I flashed my fangs. “Are you jesting right now?”
The King of Shifters bared his much larger fangs.
He merely kept on watering the blossoms, too.
I threw my hands up at the dark sky and huffed out a long breath. I leaned back inside, halfway tempted to shut the window on his furry ass. But I stepped aside and crossed my arms, tapping my right foot, impatiently waiting for him to finish.
Bishop continued to eat his treat, smiling the whole time.
Shifters were afilthylot.
The tiger jumped back through the open window, as silent as a bird flying through a cloud. He shook his fur out, and scrunched his nose in an ugly snarl, showing his fangs again.
I kept tapping my toe, unmoved by this fierce show. “Shift, Your Royal Highness. I want to smell your breath.” If he’d been in here before, then that other plate of empty cherry cobbler would be on his breath—not just a ploy by Bishop.
The tiger stared, unblinking.
I glared back.Yes, I was serious.
King Athon huffed in severe irritation.
I merely lifted one eyebrow. Iwouldsmell his breath.
The tiger growled, then, suddenly, his body turned inside out, shifting directly in front of me—so fast I could barely perceive it. King Athon pushed up off his hands and stood up enough to place his rugged face in front of mine. He opened his mouth wide, his tiger fangs on full display in his pissed off ire, and puffed out a hard breath.
I wiggled my nose, inhaling heavily.
Sweet shifter wine.
Not too much, but recent.
Tart cherry cobbler. And perhaps a turkey pie?
There were more empty plates on the table.
And…just the slightest hint of jasmine still lingered.
I cleared my throat and stepped back from him. He could really rid himself of my scent on his lips—the private smirk that crooked up one corner of his lips telling me he knew it was still there, too.
I peered down my nose, peeved in the extreme. “There is a bathroom right down the hallway, Your Royal Highness.”
The King of Shifters pulled up to his intimidating height of six feet, six inches, and gazed far,fardown at me. His smirk was a warning. “I know there is.”
I scowled and uncrossed my arms. “You are disgusting.”
King Athon snorted under his breath. “If this fact has slipped your mind, I am a shifter.” He chuckled darkly, his laughter curling around the room menacingly. “Unlike your unfortunate race, I have two forms. I don’t always need a toilet for my royal ass.”
“How lucky for you,” I muttered harshly, not liking how he managed to slip in and out unnoticed so easily. I shook my head, trying to focus past this problem. I marched back to the table, bent over, and started piling empty plates on top of each other—yes, there was one that had the remnants of a turkey pie on it. “The Misfits arrived. They, and the other rulers, are coming in here soon.”
