I peered down at the open pages, blinking in amusement.
My illegal soul mate had jotted down notes, and underlined specific passages in my sex book, seemingly, to aid our intimacies, none of her written words spiteful—each note explaining the ‘why’ of it, as a teacher would do.
I snorted softly and placed the pencil inside the book, holding the page for her, and I closed the tome. I leaned to set it on my nightstand, but I paused, my eyebrows furrowing deeply over my dark eyes. I exchanged the book on the table for a…gift…Princess Trixie had left for me lying there.
There was a handwritten note tucked within.
Shifter,
You didn’t seem pleased when Father spoke of your birthday, but I think you may like this gift. It is for your portrait.
From,
The woman who knows you sent guards into her castle. The flower is mine, asshole. Better luck next time.
I bared my teeth, my fingers tightening on the gift.
Now, I knew why she was here. To gloat.
Apparently, my Fae damned guards had been messy at their work. None had mentioned that. They’d merely indicated they hadn’t found the pink bloom and then scampered away with their heads hanging low.
I crumpled the note in my fist and tossed it aside.
Fae dammit. I needed that fucking flower.
I untied the scarf with extreme irritation, uncaring if I tore the material—doing so a few times. But I halted in place as the gift was exposed. My black eyebrows edged together, an intricately carved wooden frame of this mountain staring back up at me, not a gift meant to gloat. I dropped the torn scarf and picked the note back up off the floor, reading it more slowly.
I blinked, my attention gradually moving to the one portrait I had in my private bedchamber—the portrait of my mother.
I cleared my throat quietly and swapped the frames. Silently, I placed the old one and the note inside the drawer and walked into my bathroom to bury the torn scarf in my wastebasket, far under everything else so the elf didn’t see its remains—not entirely sure why I was doing so, but it felt right. I straightened and grunted, crossing my arms and glaring at the wastebasket.
Mayhap I should just toss it over the balcony.
I shook my head, whispering, “This is absurd.”
The new items in my bathroom drew my attention, pulling me away from my jumbled thoughts. There were many,manynew items here, too. I stared in disbelief, turning in a slow circle, my eyes widening on my face. “What in the Fae fuck?”
“Why did you take so long to get back here?” Princess Trixie asked.
I snapped my gaze in her direction.
She stood at the doorway, rubbing at her sleepy eyes, the sweater covering her body like a blanket it was so bulky on her tiny frame.
Mayhap, she looked…adorable? I wasn’t sure.
I leaned my hips back against myfullcounter and smoothly placed my legs in front of that damned wastebasket. I certainly couldn’t tell her that I’d been obtaining information about Caspian from Bishop’s snitch, Malid. “Bishop wanted to speak with me about our soul mating. He had many questions.” And he had.
She yawned behind her right fist—her bitty fangs peeking out. My Fae damned soul mate tipped her head inside my bathroom, asking, “So what do you think?” A haughty smirk started to grow on her lips, knowing damned well this wasn’t something I was expecting.
I rumbled darkly, “What is all this, elf?”
“You said I could sleep here when I wish.” She waved her hands at the bathroom, the arms of my sweater comically flopping to and fro over her hands. “I will need necessities when I do so.”
“These are all necessities?” I questioned dryly.
“Of course.” She smiled sugar sweetly. “After all, I am a helpless female who can’t do anything without the help of a male. So I thought it best to make sure I am comfortable while living as such.”
Ah. There we go. Here comes the gloating.
