“Not likely.” Bishop snickered deeply within his chest and pressed his heated body against my back. He dipped his head and pressed his face to my neck, inhaling me deeply. The shifter groaned quietly against my flesh, whispering, “You smell of me. Marlon would have noticed that. Your father is a dangerous man, Caspian, who is likely standing outside, waiting to sneak in and kill me.”
I blinked slowly at those words.
Silentlyunlocking the door, I shoved the shifter—thankfully, wearing his black leather breeches—to the side. With him now hidden, I carefully swung my front door back open.
And…Marlon still stood there.
No “relieved father” showed on his face.
The darkness he never bothered to hide was in plain view. It wasn’t directed at me. But it looked farther into my home, staring past me to the spiral staircase leading to my bedchamber.
I opened my mouth…
And not a word came out.
His violet eyes gradually lowered and turned to me. Finally, he asked quietly and calmly—and fucking deadly, “Was it consensual?”
A hard breath whooshed out of my mouth. “I would havekilled himhad it not been. You know that.”
Father’s head teetered back and forth in thought before he simply questioned, “Do you regret it? Do you want him dead now?”
“Fucking Fae, Father!” I leaned to the side and grabbed the shifter’s arm, yanking his ass beside me and putting him in plain sight. “He’s right here. Do try not to kill each other.” I flicked a finger in the air and muttered, “Oh, you know because he’s my soul mate. Happy motherfucking day to me.”
I threw my hands up and turned away, marching straight into the kitchen with all the dramatic flair this wretched day deserved, the bottom of my robe fanning out behind me in my wake.
Behind me, I heard Bishop clear his throat hard and state brusquely, “Marlon, it’s wonderful to see you again.”
“Do shut the fuck up,” Father snapped. Then his boots were inside my home pounding after me on the tiling, shouting, “Caspian Elijah Towers, stop right this instant and tell me that was a grand fucking jest!”
I rubbed at my right ear—the man had powerful lungs—and kept walking barefoot into the kitchen. Flipping on the lights, I started opening cupboards and slamming them, searching foranythingto stress eat.
While searching, I grumbled over my shoulder, “Sorry to disappoint, Father. Apparently, I like shifter dick and elf pussy—and the Fae will come to kill me soon for their own fuck up of giving me an illegal soul mate.” I slammed another cabinet closed and moved to the next. “Who would have bloody guessed that shit becauseIcertainly didn’t before today?”
A round of explosive curses flew from my father’s mouth, his boots stomping on the tile as he paced inside the kitchen.
But a large shifter hand grabbed my own when I reached for another cabinet, holding it against the wooden door.
Honey-brown eyes stared down into my chilling gaze, and Bishop said softly, “Go sit down with your father. I’ll make us something to eat.” He lifted his black brows. “Then we can talkcalmlytogether.”
I leaned toward him and whispered harshly—too quiet for my father to hear, “Your cum is leaking out of my ass right now, shifter. I’d prefer not to sit on it while talking with the man who raised me.”
Bishop merely watched me. “Then go take a quick bath, elf. Marlon isn’t going to touch me now that he knows the truth.” He stared deeply into my eyes. “You made sure of that with the rash fucking decision to give away our private business—without discussing it with me first.”
“He’s my father,” I said forcefully, not bothering to keep my voice down any longer. “I try not to lie to him about shit. It doesn’t work out well in the long run if I do.”
“Since I know exactly what your father is capable of, I’m sure it doesn’t.” He grabbed my shoulders and gently pushed me toward the kitchen doorway. “Go. Get cleaned up. There’ll be food here waiting when you’re done.”
I flashed my fangs at his bossiness, but I trudged across the room as fucking ordered while pointing a finger at my silently staring father. “Behave while I’m gone, dammit all.”
Father crossed his arms over his chest and murmured evenly, “I wouldn’t dare harm a hair on his head.”
I snorted as I finished marching out of the kitchen, making a beeline up the spiral staircase, knowing I needed to fucking hurry—or there would be blood.
* * *
The scentof succulent chicken filled my nostrils, and the quiet murmurs of two men tickled my ears as I walked silently down the spiraling staircase, sneaking up on my house guests. I peeked around the corner, spying on them for a long second, where they stood at the stovetop plating food and discussing King Athon and Princess Trixie’s kidnapping.
My nostrils flared at the dash of blood on Bishop’s eyebrow and the crimson staining my father’s jaw.
