“Oh,” he says. “I thought five foot seven would be taller.”
I grind my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t crack. Five foot seven was an optimistic estimate. A generous rounding up. Okay, it was a complete and utter lie.
I’m four foot something. Maybe five foot if I’m wearing boots with good soles. But I’m not about to admit that to this grinning giant.
I force a smile. It probably looks more like a grimace. “You coming in?”
The grin returns in full force. “Yeah! You’re cute.”
Something in my chest does a complicated thing. No one has called me cute for a long time.
I shove the feeling down. This isn’t about me being cute. This is about feeding a shadow king without having to get directly involved.
He steps into the hallway. I close the door behind him and pull the blindfold from my pocket.
His eyes widen when he sees it. “Oh wow. Kinky.”
“It’s my thing,” I say, holding it out.
“I’m into it.” He takes the blindfold and ties it over his eyes. I can’t reach his face without standing on my toes, and that would be humiliating, so I’m grateful he just does it himself.
The fabric settles into place. He’s grinning even wider now. Completely oblivious to what’s about to happen.
Guilt tries to surface. I crush it ruthlessly.
“This way,” I say, taking his hand.
I lead him through the flat. Into the living room. Toward the summoning circle.
Dis is standing now. Arms behind his back. Posture perfect. Looking every inch the ancient king he used to be.
He raises one elegant eyebrow when he sees us.
I put my finger to my lips. Give him the most threatening glare I can manage while simultaneously leading a blindfolded himbo across my living room.
Dis’s expression shifts to something that might be amusement. His mouth curves into the faintest suggestion of a smirk.
I glare harder.
The himbo is still grinning. Still completely unaware. Still trusting me to guide him safely.
I’m a terrible person.
I position him at the edge of the circle. Take a breath. And push.
He stumbles forward. The magical barrier that keeps supernatural beings trapped does absolutely nothing to stop human flesh going in. He walks right through it and stops in the centre, directly in front of Dis.
“Uh,” he says. “Where are we? This feels different.”
Dis is staring at him. Not with hunger or interest or any of the things I expected.
He’s staring with disdain. Complete and utter disdain.
Like I’ve just presented him with a pile of rotting garbage and expected him to be grateful.
Outrage flares hot in my chest. I just brought him food.I went through the mortifying process of creating a Grindr profile and lying about my height and luring a stranger to my flat and giving him a blindfold to put on.
And he’s looking at my offering like it’s beneath him.
