FOREVER KNIGHTS: #4 Battling Black Roses

“I-” She huffed. “I” She bit her cheek. “I...do not.”

“Aye. You do.”

“It’s not cowardice!”

“Aye. It is. Raw fear. And arousal.”

“It’s not!” She shook a finger in his face.

“It is.” His chin lifted to look back down his nose. Eyes burning gold as he whispered. “I can smell it.”

Her face was shocked. Eyes saucers. “Do you taunt me?”

“Some.” He shrugged. “But I speak the truth nonetheless.”

“Who-who’s the cat?” She desperately changed the subject.

“Cat? I’ve many cats.”

“The big one. Black.”

“The panther?”

“Is that what it is?” Her face was awestruck. “He’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” Bast smirked. “He is. What’ve you named him?”

“I do not name things! Naming things means you care for them.”

“And caring for them implies weakness.” He faked her voice. Shaking his head as quick as he could, in mock horror.

She nodded. Teeth gritted.

“So…” He said patiently. “What’ve you named it?”

She glowered.

“You name the cats in the corridors. Don’t play me for a fool.”

I’m no one’s fool.

Well, I could be your fool. If you let me under that pretty skirt again. But she dodged any effort he made in that direction.,

“Quandary.” She deflated.

“A good name for a big brawny lad.”

“Yes.” She beamed. “I thought so.”

They exchanged a smile for a moment until she caught herself and her face changed. “Where does he go when he’s not with me?”

“Lots of places.”

“With you?”

“He’s always with me.” Bast patted his hard chest.

“You’ll not give me a straight answer, will you?”

“Like the many you’ve given me?” He lifted a blonde brow.

“I hate you!” She spun and marched down the corridor.

“Some days, possibly.” He muttered after her. “Will you not be helping me to bed afterall?” He called. Chuckling as she walked faster.

Blowing a long breath, he slumped against the wall to steady himself.

Now to my chamber. Bottom level it is.

“Why do you do everything for them?” Elsabet blurted the next day during breakfast.

Unexpected. His wood fork clattered to the trencher and he leaned back in his seat. Tilting his head to eye her, sensing the onslaught to come. He put a foot against the table to rock the seat partially backward.

“Because they’re my Brethren.” His tone was flat.

They sat at the wide Dining Room table together. He’d chosen to sit across from her rather than taking his place at the head of the table.

He’d been dreading the confrontation about leashing her again after making love. But not this one.

She eyed his long gold hair dropping around his face. Limply hanging over his fur cloak’s pulled-up collar. And densely lashed gold eyes, assessing everything. Glowing with intelligence as he studied her.

I know I look better today. Less like death. He was already almost entirely healed from the night past. So, what are you staring at?

His complexion was perhaps a little sallow. And he’d not the energy to color his eyes to hide the gaze of his animal, glazed gold. And perhaps he still fought the chill he couldn’t usually feel, forcing him to wear his fur-lined cloak to the table.

Ungentlemanly. But necessary.

She’d been studying it disapprovingly for several minutes before shattering the blessed silence he’d so hoped would continue…

“And when it’s time will you die for them?” She notched her small pointed chin. Blue eyes seeming huge in her small angular face.

Yes. Why would you give a shit? You’d be free.

“Why so grave?” He let the chair slam to the floor as he looked at her sitting severely across from him. Storm clouds rolling through her dark blue eyes.

“You poisoned yourself!” Her trencher clattered as she slapped the table. Catching the edge of the dish with her other hand and flinging it to the floor. Leaning across the table.

He tilted his head to glance under the table before levelling large gold eyes on her. “Now was that necessary?”

“Was poisoning yourself necessary?” She countered violently. Eyes narrowing.

Yes.

“Your argument is childish now.”

Her eyes flashed red at the jab.

Ooh. Her anger. He was sorely tempted to bait her further but unsure he’d heal from any damage she did, just now.

“You were much prettier when your face was written with worry over my well-being.” He mocked.

“You said my look of worry was not doing it for you.” She mimicked a haughty tone.

“I don’t sound like that.” He pointed at her with his fork before scooping another bite of eggs. “And, for your information…I lied.”