Page 40 of Fire of the Fox

His mouth turned down in a mocking pout. “Fine.” He pointed at the photo of him and Ardley again. “Anyway, don’t be surprised if he asks you really weird questions, including about our more intimate affairs. Just pretend we’ve had sex.”

I recoiled and felt my cheeks warm. “Why? Can’t I say that it’s none of his business?”

“You can, but he’ll probably pry more after that. That’s how Ardley is. He’s a curious dickhead.”

I groaned and shook my head. “I’ll just tell him that we haven’t, then.”

Rune rested his cheek on his fist as he looked away from me. “He’ll know something is wrong if you do that. It’s going to be odd enough that I’m bringing home a girlfriend considering I don’t date. At all. If you say that we haven’t slept together, it’s going to be even more obvious that it’s fake.”

“Why? Do you sleep with every girl?” My heart clenched as the words left my mouth. It took me a moment to realize that the bitter twist in my stomach was because I didn’t want him to say yes. Which was odd. Who he fooled around with wasn’t my business.

He didn’t look at me. His gaze remained fixated across the mall as he scratched nervously at a chain around his neck. He pursed his lips, mumbling, “Not every girl.”

I frowned at him. “So, if you don’t date, that means you just hook up?”

He sighed. “Lots of Fae, and people for that matter, sleep with loads of partners. It’s how some choose to operate. I don’t want to form any personal or emotional connection with anyone. I’m only ever in it for one purpose, and that’s not to form a relationship. Period.”

I looked down at my lap, and for some reason, my stomach twisted into knots again. I refused to meet his eyes. It hurt to think that he’d slept with loads of other girls, but I didn’t understand why. It’s not like we were actually together or that I had any sort of feelings for him. Maybe it was concern for a friend? Yeah, that was it. Concern that he’d get an STD. Or maybe I was hurt because he’d intended for me to be one of those girls initially.

A one-night stand.

“Can we please move on? I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” he said, rubbing his creased forehead.

I glanced at him and mumbled, “Well, I need to learn about you, as well as life as a Fae since I’m pretending to be one. It’s best I know things like that, otherwise I would’ve told Ardley that I was a virgin, and that would’ve ruined the whole plan.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about pretending to be sexually experienced with Rune’s family. That was something I’d always thought of as personal information, but I guessed it was different in the Fae world. I’d have to practice giving off that kind of confidence and intimacy with Rune.

He met my eyes briefly before looking away again. “Let’s move on.” He pointed to another photo as he explained, “These are Ardley’s parents. They’re my aunt and uncle on my mother’s side. My aunt’s name is Sinopa, and my uncle is Crevan.”

Ardley stood in the middle, laughing once more for the camera. His mother, Sinopa, had long, midnight-colored hair that matched the shade of her fox ears and tail. She was tall and slender, and she wore what looked like a Regency-era navy and white dress. Crevan stood on the other side of Ardley. His hair was dark like his son’s and wife’s, with ears and a tail to match. He was a bit heavier, his belly sticking out slightly. He, like Sinopa, wore Regency-era garb. They almost looked silly wearing such clothes with Ardley standing between them in modern jeans and a fitted tee. Even more jarring was Ardley’s vibrant laugh on full display, while neither of his parents even so much as smiled.

“As you can see,” Rune began, “my aunt and uncle are very traditional. My mother and grandparents still wear clothes like that, too. They would prefer that girls wear dresses and men wear suits, which is part of the reason that neither of them are smiling in that picture. Ardley is very much a free spirit who does what he wants. The rest of them aren’t very progressive.”

“Do you dress like that when you go home?” I asked, looking him in the eye. A laugh bubbled up my throat as I pictured Rune in Regency-style clothing.

“Hell no. Like Ardley, I do as I please.”

“I figured as much,” I said, sarcasm laced into each word.

He rolled his eyes and pointed at the next photo. “These are my mother’s parents. My grandmother, Lilith, and my grandfather, Devoss. If you go, don’t speak to them. You only speak to them when spoken to first.”

I sighed and mumbled, “Great. Everyone just keeps sounding better and better.”

I gazed down at the photograph, shocked. Its two subjects didn’t look a day over 50. And in the Rune family fashion, neither were smiling.

Why did no one except Ardley smile in this family? Were they allergic to joy?

“Everyone except for you and Ardley have seemed quite …” I paused, searching for the right word. Meeting his eyes, I pursed my lips and finished, “Proper.”

He nodded. “They’ve been around for centuries, so they’re all old-fashioned. Granted, I’ve been here for a little more than two centuries, but that’s not long at all in terms of Fae years. You could say I’m the equivalent of 22 in human years. Since I’m, as my grandparents like to say, ‘young and naive,’ I prefer to move along with the times instead of living in the past. I enjoy modern-day amenities whereas my family loathes them.”

I looked at the photos once more. My eyes scanned over the ones we’d already looked at, reviewing their subjects’ cold, blank stares. They seemed so harsh and unfriendly. It was clear just by looking at them that they were more standoffish than Rune, which was really saying something. If this was them on a daily basis, I didn’t want to see what they were like when they were angry, which they’d most definitely be if they found out about this charade.

My eyes moved to the next picture in line.

Rune explained, “That’s my mother, Myra, my step-father, Alvaro, and my two younger brothers. They’re twins, and technically, they’re my half-brothers. We don’t see each other that way, though. The one with glasses is Newt. The other is Greshim.”

Myra stood in the back with Alvaro, a dark and handsome man whose frame was quite large. It looked as if he might burst from the seams of his suit. Myra’s long, blonde hair just reached the ground, and it matched her fox ears and tail. The nearly white color of her hair stood out brilliantly against her black Regency gown. There was an undeniable beauty about Myra.

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