Chapter Three Prick #3
He pulled her against his chest, spinning her so that her back was pinned against the glass window of the shop.
"You forget your place, love. Our king clearly gives you too much rein on that leash of yours."
She wanted to spit in his face. He may be beautiful but who gave a fuck when she was starting to loath him with every word that fell from his mouth.
"The king has tasked me with babysitting his little pet, so that is what I will do."
She narrowed her eyes, willing daggers into them. "You were told to help me find the captain—not watch my every move."
"I have a perfect record where his royal majesty is concerned."
He looked her up and down, and found her wanting.
"You, love, are a threat to that." She couldn't help the sly grin that splayed out over her heart shaped face.
It disappeared the instant his hand locked onto her chin, his fingers pressing into her cheeks.
She tried to pull away but he held firm.
His thumb traced circles over her tattoo just below her eye before pushing her face away in disgust.
"You should learn to listen to your betters."
She went to knee him again but he was too quick this time, already anticipating the move.
His deep dark chuckle filled her ears. "You're a precarious little thing, chaos in a bottle and yet..."
He dragged those cunning eyes up and down her body again. "Completely predictable."
She leaned in as much as the little gap of space would allow, their lips a breath away. "Go fuck yourself, My Lord."
It was a mistake, he flashed her a full smirk, white teeth glaring in the sun and it only made him more handsome.
"I like that. I think I should like you to call me that from now on."
Pompous, arrogant, piece of shit.
"You can think whatever you want." It was an hollow wish, if he commanded her to do something, she would have no choice but to obey.
She might be the king's favourite assassin.
His favourite pet, as Lennox Hollow had called her, and he was right.
She was nothing more than a pet, and he was a lord—a high ranking lord.
Head of his own house and she was bound by the invisible chains around her neck to obey.
His eyes finally left her face, to the building behind her, nodding his chin towards the window.
"A little extravagant for a slave don't you think. Heavens, where would you even wear such a thing?"
It was a taunt, and a trap and above all else—true.
She had gowns back in her room that she had purchased for herself, and never once had a place to wear them.
She was invited to every feast and ball at the castle but never attended.
What would be the point? So that all those evil conniving courtiers could gawk and whisper about her?
She would rather stay in her room with a good book and a hot cup of tea.
"Why do you care?" She said, only because she couldn't think of anything better to say.
"Oh, love, I promise you, that I most definitely do not." His green eyes like a darkened forest, traced over her face. "All I care about is finding the captain and fixing your blunder."
"So you can go back to being a lazy, hand fed lord?" She couldn't help herself. Her tongue would be the death of her.
"Exactly." He winked, and pushed away from her. Fresh air returned to her lungs at the loss of his proximity, and with it a clear head.
"Well, My Lord." She let every ounce of venom and violence wrap around those two syllables.
"You were tasked with helping me." She took a step into his space, her chin held high as if she were a queen holding court.
"As far as I'm concerned only one male holds my leash."
She looked him up an down, filling her mis-matched eyes with loathing.
"And its not you." She spat. If she had to be a pet, she would try to keep her owners to a minimum.
"Is that a challenge, love?" His eyes sparkled with mirth.
"When I need your help, I'll ask for it." She wouldn't.
His dark chuckle was his only response, He knew she would never ask for help—from anyone—ever, let alone him. She was used to working alone, and liked it that way.
"Whatever you say, love."
"And stop calling me that." She seethed. It was the wrong thing to say, it only made him smile broader.
"I'll stop calling you 'love' when you start calling me 'my lord' with a degree of respect."
She groaned, her head tilting back to the skies.
"That's what I thought." He winked again and she pushed on his rock hard chest.
He barely moved an inch and his laugh licked its way up her spine.
"Don't worry, love. You'll get frown lines."
He mocked her as he brushed his finger between her eyebrows that were currently furrowed and she batted his hand away.
"Meet me at the docks at sunrise in two days time."
She was going to kill him, burn him alive and dance on his fucking ashes. Before she could slash him with a retort or attack him again a gust of wind whipped her curls from her face. Dust and dirt stung her eyes causing her to close them only to open them to find the Lord Lennox Hollow gone.
She looked up into the sky, seeing only a pair of black wings with feathers so dark they ate up the glaring summer sun.
"Prick." She mumbled as she watched him shrink.