Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,33
gifts. No thanks. No perceived debts.
“Fine.” He scooped up the pile and strode down the hall.
I lasted all of five seconds before I leapt to my feet and followed. “What are you doing?”
“These were made for you.” He reached the door, opened it and flung them onto the icy ground. “You don’t want them, and no one else can trigger their magic. I have no reason for keeping them.”
I gaped at the senseless waste. “Those must have cost you a fortune.”
“I have resources.” He shrugged. “The cost was not an issue.”
Right. Princes must inherit small fortunes along with the title.
Waving a hand at him, I shooed him aside. “Get out of the way.”
He stepped to the left and unlatched the lock I hadn’t seen him trigger.
I opened the door and scowled at the heap of clothing smudging the winter-white landscape. Darting outside, I gathered the scattered outfit and ran back in to melt the snow stuck in my hair.
I dumped it all in a heap on the floor then returned to the hearth and the crackling fire elemental. It flared brighter at my approach, which earned it a smile, then flamed hotter to thaw my icy fingers.
“I knew you couldn’t resist.” The smugness in Raven’s voice was thicker than the honey I gifted Mable.
“Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Some of us work for a living.” The cost of that outfit would have paid my rent for five years. “So no, I couldn’t leave the clothes to ruin.”
Raven shoved off the wall where he had been leaning. “Your father doesn’t provide for you?”
“Not a penny.” I massaged the stinging from my hands. “I pay my own way.”
He cocked his head. “I didn’t realize.”
“That I wasn’t a kept woman?” I scoffed. “Sorry to disillusion you.”
He sounded thoughtful. “I would have handled this situation differently if I had known.”
“The ratty couch wasn’t your first clue?” I laughed. “Or the rattletrap car I drive?”
His brows slanted downward. “They were low quality, but you seemed pleased with them.”
“I am pleased with them.” Heat stung my neck until I rubbed it. “Let’s just—new topic okay?”
Finally I understood why talking money was considered crass at worst, borderline rude at best.
For those who never worried where their next meal was coming from, fear of going hungry was as foreign as my first step into Faerie.
A throat clearing brought my attention back to Raven.
“No time. We have to leave.” He gestured toward the clothes. “You must dress quickly.”
I straightened from the fire, mourning the loss of its heat. “I’m not accepting your gift.”
“What gift? Do you mean those clothes you found discarded on my property? Those aren’t mine. Not my size.” He canted his head. “It’s your choice. Use them or not.”
“You are...” I rolled a few choice words around my head before settling on, “...sneaky.”
A tight smile stretched his lips. “I have been called worse.”
I just bet he had.
Even after being assured I was under no obligation to accept or wear the gift Raven had offered, I couldn’t make myself do either. What frightened me was not being given freedom to choose, but fear of making the wrong choice. I had never intended to visit Faerie, and I wasn’t prepared for it.
Basic fae etiquette had been drummed into my head, but I had never bargained with a creature like this.
Raven could destroy me. He could twist any one of the missteps I had made around him until he owned me. That he hadn’t yet didn’t mean he wouldn’t ever. It just meant I was of more use to him running on my own steam, making fresh mistakes to compound the old ones than under his auspices.
When he excused himself to freshen up, my fingers began itching to fling the pile of armor into the fire. That was one way to make a decision, right? His return made me grateful I had resisted the temptation.
Gone were the trappings of the mortal realm. Raven wore a black leather outfit, one part armor and two parts fashion plate, that complemented the one he’d had made for me. Silver-studded gloves stretched to his elbows. His shoulders were masked by epaulets fashioned from sleek black feathers of varying lengths and a heavy cloak fastened underneath. Free of its braid, his hair hung dark and smooth down his back.
The slight peak at his forehead was accentuated by the elegant sterling circlet he wore. An oversight maybe, since he dressed quickly, but the crest in its center was inverted.