Page 9 of Elf Shot

"None of your business, elf."

When the waiter returned with her drink, Arne took it and growled, "Bring me a vodka on the rocks."

"What brand, sir?"

Arne's eyes narrowed. "Do I look like I give a shit?" The waiter all but ran back to the bar.

"Hey, that's mine," Layla snapped. Arne sat down opposite her and placed her whiskey in front of her. "I didn't ask you to sit."

"I'm not a dog. I can do what I like," he replied. "Looks like we will have that drink together after all."

"You crashed my date so you could try and have another one?" Layla demanded.

"The date looked like it was crashing all on its own," Arne replied. "You looked bored."

"You wouldn't know."

"I know." The waiter appeared and placed a vodka down in front of him. He didn't wait for a thank you before he bolted away.

"I'm never going to be able to come back here. I hope you're happy." She had a mouthful of Jameson. "And I wasn't bored. I was having a nice time with Seamus."

"Nice," Arne said snidely. "That's what does it for you, is it?"

"What does it for me is also none of your business." Layla praised herself for getting the words out levelly. Jesus, he was intense.

"It could be."

Layla's whole body tightened. "I don't date liars."

"I never lied to you."

"Bullshit. You're a prince, and what…a demi-god? The fuck you didn't lie."

Arne raised a brow. "I didn't tell you about my parentage. That's not the same as lying. Perhaps I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would act like this."

It could have been the whiskey coursing through her, but Layla thought she heard a tinge of hurt in his voice. Not possible.

"Why would you give a shit about how I would act? You know what? Doesn't matter. I don't care." Layla drained her drink and gestured to the waiter for a cheque. "I honestly can't figure out why you won't take no for an answer. I'm not qualified to be an ambassador."

"You are a human and a sister to the powerful fae princes. You speak elvish, and you are intimately aware of the threat that the generals pose. You are theonlyperson qualified for this task," Arne replied.

"Take Bron. She's better suited."

"She doesn't speak elvish."

"She can use a translating app."

The glass Arne was holding cracked. "Bron wasn't chosen by the Norns themselves for this task!"

"The Norns?" she squeaked. "The Norns are real too?"

"Very. And they told me that you need to help the elves, or Vili will start Ragnarök," he replied.

Layla blinked a few times and then burst out laughing. "That makes no sense. I'm no one, Arne. I don't stop the likes of Vili. I stand behind the people that do and make sure they have everything they need."

"The Norns don't lie. They said it was you. That it could be no one else." His golden eyes narrowed. "And you will come and help us even if I have to hurl your very fine and stubborn ass over my shoulder and carry you all the way to Finnmark myself."

"You wouldn't dare." Though Layla suddenly kind of wanted to see if he would.

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