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I’d missed being in power.
“Look at my mate the wrong way and I’ll revoke it,” Saint tossed back.
“She’s asleep.”
“You know exactly what I’m referring to when I say look,” he emphasized, and he was right. I knew exactly what he was warning me not to do.
Fantasize about his woman…or my savior.
"I’m not trying to steal my Alpha’s love,” Saint decided to return to my previous statement - confirming that he was willing to set aside differences for us to talk.
“You know I wasn’t referring to Dimitris,” I calmly pointed out. That got me an eyebrow raise, and I smirked. “She’ll be your Alpha soon enough.”
“Fortune teller,” he muttered. “Is that why that bitch of a queen kept you in her lair of torture?”
“Maybe.” To be fair, I wasn’t sure what her motives were. “Clearly the threat of igniting a fae war wasn’t frightening enough for her to free me.”
“What did free you?” Saint asked as if he’d forgotten my explanation from before. I doubt he did, but I was sure he wanted a more detailed explanation.
“Loki got me out, or at least got me into the line where shifters are transferred to the surface and placed into jobs that still tied you to their dirty work. All those henchmen in mafia gangs and drug rings are all shifters too afraid to pull away from the witch’s reign.”
“Witch, huh?” Saint stated carefully as his finger trailed along Willow’s back. I followed the movement, noticing how it outlined the exact symbols that should have been hidden from his view.
Should have.
“You can see them,” I quietly stated. His trailing finger paused as his eyes closed briefly.
Then the room dropped in temperature, enough to make me shiver in anticipation of a potential problem.
“I can see a lot of things,” he noted while his blond strands began to shift into striking black. “You’re walking on an unsteady plank, fae prince. With Dimitris sleeping and my wolf quietly nestled in my mind, there’s no one to stop me from going a little wild.”
I knew he was secretly threatening me to be careful with my words -or gaze -but I wondered if he’d actually eliminate me if I made the wrong move.
I’d rather not test that theory.
"You don’t fear the consequences of killing me?” I offered.
“I don’t fear anything,” he muttered, though his hollow orbs drifted down to Willow once more. “Except a certain Blossoming Flower’s death. That was rather frightening to face.”
“Would you have sought revenge?” I had to ask, and there was that sickening chuckle that ignited goosebumps along my arms.
“You know the answer to that,” he pointed out. “What are you trying to unravel?”
“Why is the Vile Witch obsessed with Willow?” I got to the point.
“You should be asking that question to yourself,” Saint tossed back.
I noticed his nails were no longer normal - their length slowly extending while the very tips were sharp enough to scratch anything with just a hint of pressure.
It didn’t stop him from trailing Willow’s flesh once more, as if a gamble to determine if he’d wound her or not. I knew he could heal whatever damage he committed, but it still made me carry a hint of worry.
“You’re the one hiding in the shadows of her recovery room.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
“It’s not hard to sense what doesn’t belong in a room,” Saint declared and tilted his head in question. “If you want the truth, you gave yourself away by being aroused earlier.”
I hadn’t expected that to be an option. My cheeks began to warm up, though I was sure he wouldn’t see the shade of red thanks to my darker complexion.
