Crypts and Crimes (Trixie Towers #3) - Scarlett Dawn Page 0,5

show me.”

I pinched my lips into a straight line, holding my ground. I tilted my head to stare at his profile while he persistently studied the desk. “Someone could come in here.”

The King of Shifters wiggled his nose—just so. “I’ll smell them before they arrive. And I want the same vantage point as you. My eyes are killing me from trying to view what you were out there.”

I choked on a laugh. “I’m glad it hurt, you nosy prick.”

He grunted and peeked at me from the corner of his eyes. “I am exhausted, elf. Point at it again, and let us be done for the night. You can properly look at the rest in the morning with your king by your side.”

“Fine.” I peered down my nose at him.

He lifted one eyebrow, prompting me to do as ordered. When I didn’t immediately do as he bid, he cautioned, “Or I can drag your elven ass back to your father and explain to him what you’ve been doing in the wee hours of the morning. I am going to sleep soon, Princess.”

“You’re a cranky bastard when you don’t get what you want. You should bloody well work on that. Perhaps have Bishop tell you no on occasion. Like, when you decided that murdering my grandmother was an excellent bargaining chip to have a trade embargo passed.” I glared for a hot second, and then I returned my attention to the desk.

“We’re back to that, are we?” he asked coolly.

“We never passed it.”

He snorted. “All right, if you want to know the truth of the matter, I may have reacted too quickly. It was a miscalculation on my part. One that I have learned from.”

“You mean that you learned not to kill someone before the deal is made? Because dead is…dead. There is no bargaining that.”

King Athon chuckled darkly. “Correctly stated.”

“I hate you,” I muttered, my features contorting in anger.

He laughed softly…and pressed his mouth against the bottom of my ear—not anywhere near the point. He whispered against my skin, “It also means my goods for the trade were stolen that night, and Bishop was badly injured during the theft. I had a traitor in my midst, a new assistant, who blamed it on your father. He wanted a war between our kinds, and, as you may assume, is now long dead at my hands. But that night, I reacted as any king would have done, and retaliated against your king. I learned my lesson about trusting a friend before checking facts, because, yes, dead is…dead.”

My mouth snapped shut, horrified. “Are you lying right now?”

“No,” King Athon stated simply—as if his words hadn’t shaken me to my core. He pulled his head back and stared down at the desk where my attention was frozen. “On to the matter at hand. Point now, or we are done here.”

“Did you apologize to my father?”

“Fuck no. I informed him what happened, but I did not ask for forgiveness.”

My eyes narrowed into thin slits, thinking aloud, “That would have shown weakness in your kingdom.” I shook my head hard, bumping my cheek against his by accident, attempting to swerve my thoughts back to the present. I…may have…scooted even closer to the heater that was my foul soul mate, protection against the chill in the air. I cast my eyes around the desk, muttering, “Where was it again?”

The King of Shifters grunted at my movement, stilling in surprise as I snuggled closer to him. He leaned his head back to gaze down at our bodies, ordering brutishly, “Quit wiggling your fucking ass against my cock, unless you wish to stare down at this desk for another reason—a reason neither of us wishes for.”

“Control your damned impulses, shifter,” I griped, and I pointed down at the desk—and didn’t stop squirming against him for warmth. “I found what I was looking for…and it’s cold in here.”

The shifter king growled softly, his tiger taking voice, but he tilted his head back down, eyeing where I was indicating. After a moment, he mumbled in exasperation, “It looks like a castle. Truly? That’s what this was all about?”

“Not exactly.” I used both hands, fanning them out from the castle. “Cross your eyes and look at it again.”

Dry, dry words. “You’re jesting.”

“Just do it,” I snapped.

King Athon shoved a few of my red locks that had slipped back over my shoulder aside, and he sighed heavily. “I cannot believe I am doing this.”

“It’s art. You have to look at it from different angles.”