Page 15 of Fate & Monsters
The palpable tension cracked.
“Are you going to just stand there?” His tone was more bark than genuine curiosity.
“I haven’t decided,” I replied, chin high. My knees wobbled. “I wasn’t sure if I was invited to eat dinner or be it.”
His tail twitched behind his chair and his jaw ticked. “If I wanted to eat you, I wouldn’t have extended an invitation.”
“How delightful,” I mumbled.
The beast gestured to the seat beside him with a flick of a clawed hand. The wood scraped the floor as he pushed it out. “Sit.”
The order scraped against an inherent sense of pride within me. “You might try asking.”
His eyes flashed like sparking flames. “I don’t ask.”
“And I don’t obey.”
The tension cracked in the air between us like lightning on the cusp of a storm.
“You will sit.” Prince Mavros gestured at the table setting beside him with one massive hand. My gaze followed the tips of his claws until he sat once more, and they were splayed on the table’s edge. His claws dug into the red tablecloth, tearing fibers as his agitation at my immobility rose. “SIT!”
I wouldn’t let a damned creature command me on a whim. Human body or not, I had the spirit of a sylph. For centuries, I had protected the creatures of my forest, and I wouldn’t let this predator hold control over me. Raising my head high, straightening my spine, I stared down my nose in his direction. “Perhaps if you displayed some decorum, I might.”
“Fine!” He slammed his palms on the table, and his chair legs scraped gratingly as he shoved away from the table. The beast marched down the length of the table and seized my upper arm—not painfully, but firmly enough to make my heart stumble while he manhandled me into my appointed seat. He pushed my chair closer to the table before stomping back to his. “How’s that for decorum, my lady?” he sneered, tusks and sharp canines on full display.
“Well, how should I know, you abominable beast?” My tone rose to match his.
He jerked back as if he’d been slapped. His head tipped, confusion swirling in his fiery eyes as he watched me. “I warn you, my patience runs thin.”
“I bet you’re reconsidering the dungeon about now, then,” I retorted.
Ignoring him, I turned my attention to the food on the table. My body was still achy and sore, starving from running for so long without nourishment. Without acknowledging the beast, I began grabbing steaming vegetables from gilded platters and loading them onto the porcelain in front of me. Though I avoided the large roast smothered in gravy as the sight and smell of it turned my stomach.
“Are you feral? That’s not how you—” the beast prince spluttered. “What are you doing? Use a fork!”
“Was I not invited for dinner?” I paused with a handful of carrots halfway to the plate.
“Your hands.” He spread his fingers, showing off the long digits, silver rings, and claws. “You’re using your hands. Don’t speak to me of decorum when your table manners are akin to that of an animal!”
Face flushing at the misstep, I dropped the carrots. We both watched them roll around the tablecloth and bump into a crystal glass. I snatched my hand into my lap and sat rigid as the beast moved. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I wasn’t raised in a castle. Or do you forget that you kidnapped me?”
“You weren’t kidnapped,” he growled. I swore he rolled his eyes. “You trespassed. You stole.”
“I only needed some fruit. I was starving. That’s hardly reason enough—”
He leaned forward, claws tapping the tablein a slow, ominous rhythm. “It’s my land. Under my protection.Mine. That’s more than reason enough.”
“And now I’m under your roof. That doesn’t make me your possession to command as you see fit.”
He said nothing. But his tail lashed violently behind him, a warning sign if I’d ever seen one.
He growled low in the base of his chest, lip curling even as he reached forward and grabbed some sort of utensil, which he used to heap more food onto my plate. He dropped several slices of roast before I could stop him.
“Eat.” He dropped into his seat with a huff. Seeming to think better of the one-worded demand, he tacked on, “Please” as an afterthought. It didn’t entice me into obeying, but my rioting stomach did.
Endless social blunders laid before me. There were so many little utensils on both sides of the porcelain, and more than one crystal glass at each setting. Sylphs didn’t need such devices and held no sense of human deportment. I had no choice but to watch the beast and conform to his style of etiquette.
I reached for something shiny.
