I realize his words have been left lingering too long when his gaze wanders. It finds my neck, and his brow pinches.He’s looking at the mark Killian left, I think to myself, and I hold my head higher. I’m not ashamed.
But then he says with undeserved harshness, “You need your tattoo for tonight.”
“I don’t want you fucking touching me,” I snap instantly.
His lip curls. “Good. Agreed,” he growls. We stare at each other for a long moment, and unrealized energy gathers in my muscles. I’m really thinking about punching him.
Then he turns and says, “Gamma Elinor.”
A few Rawbonds look over drunkenly, disturbed by Stark’s authoritative voice. But they go back to their business quickly. I drag my eyes from Stark to Elinor, who sweeps her long black hair from her shoulder as she walks over. “Hello, Alpha.”
I bow my head respectfully, relieved.
“She needs her tattoo,” Stark grunts out.
“Ah,” Elinor says with a nod. “Sit, then.”
“How many of these have you done?” I ask as I move to sit in the closest chair.
“Too many, in my years,” she sighs as she produces the ink and needle. To her credit, she says nothing about the love bite on my neck.
Her years.Elinor has a youthfulness to her, but she’s still somewhere in her middle years. Her olive skin is mostly smooth, save from a few very slight hints of aging. I wonder what she’s seen at the front in the decades she’s been in service. If having been here for the last four months has been a good reprieve for her, or if she misses the action of battle.
My quiet hope that Stark would fuck off flickers out when he continues to intrusively loom over us.
The needle digs into my skin. I force my body to remain relaxed, unwilling to let him see my pain right now. Elinor’s needle moves steadily, drawing a horizontal line through the three points of the existing design, bridging the remaining gap.
Collar’s complete,I think.
“Finished,” Elinor says. She straightens and leans in to drag her tongue over my skin. It’s the epitome of unsexy, like getting licked by a lizard. The thought nearly makes me giggle, though my next thought sobers me up.
I guess I can’t keep pretending that it’s the act alone that heats my blood when Stark does it.
As Elinor stands to go, I refuse to think any more about Stark’s stupid tongue. I stand as well, and glare at him. Then I turn on my heel and stalk back to Killian.
When he sees me, his face immediately drops, and he gets up from the table.
“Hey!” someone protests.
“Round’s not over yet.”
“We’re in the middle of a game, man!” Izabel says.
Killian summons a polite smile for them. “I’ll be surrendering, I think. If things keep going this way, I’ll be out the entirety of the crown’s coffers.”
There’s a chorus of laughter, and Killian turns to me and takes my elbow gently.
“You look upset.” His eyes dart over my shoulder. I know Stark’s still there, staring at me. I can feel his malice. Killian’s eyes darken.
“He’s just an enormous asshole,” I grumble.
Killian’s thumb strokes over my skin. “Let’s go, then.”
I nod, relieved. “Please. Thanks.”
He guides me from the busy room and through the pleasantly quiet Strategos anteroom. Then he pushes my door open and ushers me inside, shutting it with a tap and twisting the lock.
I turn to look at him. He leans against the door, hands back in his pockets, hair slightly messier than usual. His eyes glint in the low light.
