“Sexist pig.” She punched him square in the back, nearly sending him to his knees. Cristo. “I don’t need a man to protect me.”
He spun on his heel to meet her belligerent scowl. “This has nothing to do with protecting. I don’t want you accidentally stepping between me and Caine.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“Uberking stuff.” Unable to help himself, he caught her face in his hands and roughly kissed her. “Don’t move.”
He turned back, sighing as he sensed Harley shift so she could see the door. She might be willing to concede his first shot at Caine, but there was no way in hell she was going to hide behind him.
Harley wasn’t the cowering sort.
A beat passed before the door was shoved open and Caine entered the room. Salvatore’s wolf stirred, instinctively reacting to having a male so close to his mate.
It was his purely human side, however, that was provoked by the man’s smooth blond beauty and smug expression.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he finally encountered the cur who had been a pain in his royal butt, but it wasn’t this slender man dressed in faded jeans and a black muscle shirt, who looked like he should be on the beaches of California instead of leading a cur revolt.
He wanted to smash that too-handsome face.
Or maybe he would just rip off his head and be done with it.
The head ripping off became much more likely as the bastard studied Harley as if she were his favorite bone.
“Harley, my love, you’ve been a very bad girl,” Caine taunted.
“Screw you,” Harley muttered.
The blue eyes glowed with a hunger that set Salvatore’s nerves on edge.
“Later, pet,” the cur drawled. “And only if you behave.”
Salvatore stepped close enough to the bars to feel the burn of silver.
“Careful, cur,” he warned, his voice thick with warning.
Stupidly confident that Salvatore was contained in his cell, Caine folded his arms over his chest.
“Well, well,” he sneered. “If it isn’t the glorious King of Weres.”
Salvatore glanced toward Harley. “I like glorious better than uber.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll make a note of it.”
“Of course, you’re not so glorious right now,” Caine snapped, obviously not pleased at having his moment of gloating interrupted. “I’ve seen better looking Ipar demons.”
With insulting slowness, Salvatore returned his attention to the cur.
“Easy to be brave when you have me locked in a cage. It would be a lot more impressive if you let me out and faced me like a man.”
Caine laughed. “Do I look like a putz?”
“You look like a cur with a death wish.”
“Just the opposite. I intend to become immortal.”
“Hard to become immortal after I’ve chopped your head off and fed it to the rats.” Salvatore paused, narrowing his gaze. “Still, just out of morbid curiosity, how do you intend to acquire this immortality?”
Caine shrugged. “You aren’t the only one with skill in the laboratory.”