too.
I threw my hands up at the dark sky and huffed out a long breath. I leaned back inside, halfway tempted to shut the window on his furry ass. But I stepped aside and crossed my arms, tapping my right foot, impatiently waiting for him to finish.
Bishop continued to eat his treat, smiling the whole time.
Shifters were a filthy lot.
The tiger jumped back through the open window, as silent as a bird flying through a cloud. He shook his fur out, and scrunched his nose in an ugly snarl, showing his fangs again.
I kept tapping my toe, unmoved by this fierce show. “Shift, Your Royal Highness. I want to smell your breath.” If he’d been in here before, then that other plate of empty cherry cobbler would be on his breath—not just a ploy by Bishop.
The tiger stared, unblinking.
I glared back. Yes, I was serious.
King Athon huffed in severe irritation.
I merely lifted one eyebrow. I would smell his breath.
The tiger growled, then, suddenly, his body turned inside out, shifting directly in front of me—so fast I could barely perceive it. King Athon pushed up off his hands and stood up enough to place his rugged face in front of mine. He opened his mouth wide, his tiger fangs on full display in his pissed off ire, and puffed out a hard breath.
I wiggled my nose, inhaling heavily.
Sweet shifter wine.
Not too much, but recent.
Tart cherry cobbler. And perhaps a turkey pie?
There were more empty plates on the table.
And…just the slightest hint of jasmine still lingered.
I cleared my throat and stepped back from him. He could really rid himself of my scent on his lips—the private smirk that crooked up one corner of his lips telling me he knew it was still there, too.
I peered down my nose, peeved in the extreme. “There is a bathroom right down the hallway, Your Royal Highness.”
The King of Shifters pulled up to his intimidating height of six feet, six inches, and gazed far, far down at me. His smirk was a warning. “I know there is.”
I scowled and uncrossed my arms. “You are disgusting.”
King Athon snorted under his breath. “If this fact has slipped your mind, I am a shifter.” He chuckled darkly, his laughter curling around the room menacingly. “Unlike your unfortunate race, I have two forms. I don’t always need a toilet for my royal ass.”
“How lucky for you,” I muttered harshly, not liking how he managed to slip in and out unnoticed so easily. I shook my head, trying to focus past this problem. I marched back to the table, bent over, and started piling empty plates on top of each other—yes, there was one that had the remnants of a turkey pie on it. “The Misfits arrived. They, and the other rulers, are coming in here soon.”
“That’s not surprising.” King Athon rolled his head side to side, working his muscles out—releasing stress.
“No, I suppose it’s not,” I grouched. I moved around the table and kneed Bishop’s right leg, his feet still up on the table, and blocking my way. “Move, shifter. I’m trying to clean up your mess.”
Bishop sniggered, not moving as I’d ordered.
He stared at me while he ate the last of his treat.
I glanced at the shifter king and pointed at his damned friend. “For Fae’s sake, make him behave, Your Royal Highness. Or I will.”
“Your mouth is beginning to annoy me,” Bishop remarked quietly, his solid honey-brown eyes losing all previous humor as they stared hard into mine.
“Bishop…” King Athon pinched the bridge of his nose. “You need to leave the room for the meeting. Wait for me outside.”
I grinned evilly down at the gorilla shifter. “You heard your king. Leave.”
Bishop ground his teeth together and yanked his feet off the table. He sat forward in a rush, tossing his plate and fork on the table. His smile was just as cruel as mine. “And you can clean my mess up like a servant, Your Highness.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled.
He inhaled slowly, mocking, “No, fuck your—” His mouth snapped shut abruptly, his eyebrows furrowing deeply over his eyes. He slightly turned his face, further in my direction…and inhaled again—the top of his head was at my stomach, his nose further down.
My eyes grew large. I quickly stepped back from him.
But it was too late.
The entire room paused for two atrocious heartbeats.
I could barely breathe, my lungs seizing.
King Athon quickly snapped his fingers in my direction, barking in his brutal shifter accent, “Get over here, elf!”
I swiftly turned toward my