Page 14 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

Was this place really his?

The goblin stood at a liquor cabinet that I hadn’t spotted until just now. I moved into the living room, then hesitated, glancing back at the door. There was a mat for shoes. I kicked off my boots before making my way into the room. He walked over with two snifters, both filled with amber liquid. He handed me one.

I was surprised by the gesture until he opened his mouth, once again ruining everything. “Sit. Let’s talk.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me make you.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“I would. You know I would.”

“You’re insufferable!” I stomped over and sank onto the sofa, taking liberties with his pillows to messily arrange them around me. I grabbed a throw blanket to spread it over me. The goblin lifted an impatient brow while I got comfortable. “Is there a problem?” My voice came out extra sweet.

“Nope.” He chose a seat at the other end of the sectional and leaned back, comfortably spreading his muscled thighs while throwing an arm over the back. The moment those green eyes fell on me, a hot flush crept up my neck.

His eyes dropped to my chest as he said, “Interesting necklaces.”

Ignoring the statement, I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip. Warmth and flavor rushed over my tongue, down my throat, immediately dulling some of my irritation. My eyes darted up to him in surprise. I took another sip, savoring it before I swallowed. “This isn’t, like, poisoned or anything is it?”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, then took a sip of his own.

“What?” I groused. “You can’t blame me for wondering⁠—”

“What happened in that alley?”

“You’re joking, right?” He simply stared at me. “I don’t even know you! You expect me to just start answering questions after dragging me⁠—?!”

“Oh, pardon me for being so rude.” With careful movements, he set his drink on the side table and stood, offering me an exaggerated bow before reclaiming his seat. “My name is Bastian Croft. I would say it’s a pleasure, Eleanor, but then I’d be lying.”

I made a sound of disgust. “Ha ha ha, very cute little act. No one calls me Eleanor. It’s Elle, or it used to be before I stopped going by that. Do your friends call you Bas? Do you even have friends? Or does your charming personality drive everyone away before they get the chance?”

He stared at me, expression unchanging.

“Fine. Whatever.” I looked down at my drink and took a sip to calm my ire. Honestly, I didn’t care if it was poisoned. Death would be better than putting up with Bastian Croft.

What kind of name was that, anyway?

“You done with the sass, sugar?” I snorted, throwing him a glare. “Great. Fantastic. Glad we cleared that up. Now, tell me what happened in the alley.”

I didn’t owe him anything—certainly not an explanation—merely because he’d rescued me.

He must have sensed my refusal to talk because he added, “By all means, take your time. You aren’t leaving until I get answers.”

“Excuse me?” I sputtered, sitting up straighter. “You can’t… You can’t keep me here. I’ll leave when I want.” I glanced at the door, then back at him.

“Oh? And how do you plan to get home?”

“I’ll walk.”

“In the middle of the night? All the way back to West Cross?”

I opened and closed my mouth, because he had a point. “Fine. You win. I was ambushed, all right?”

“Gonna need more than that.”

My irritated growl could have rivaled his. But I gave in, telling him how I’d been on the phone. How I’d stepped outside for better reception, only to be ambushed. How I’d broken free, only to have my wrist broken. “And then you showed up, all dark knight and whatnot, and kidnapped me on your bike.”