Page 88 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“Thank you for reminding me that I shouldn’t expect anything less than monstrous behavior. There’s only one problem.”

I lifted the ball of fur between us as proof. She squirmed, so I let her down to roam. “Does she have a name?”

“She’s yours to name.” His voice was still edged with something hard. I turned to glare at him. He glared right back. Seconds ticked by so I arched a brow. At last, he gave a slow blink then turned away. “There’s a small crate and some other supplies. You can keep her in your room if you wish, or let her be a house dog. Whatever you desire.”

“Whatever I desire,” I murmured, repeating his words.

“How do you feel?” he asked, changing the subject. I was certain he was referring to last night.

“Pretty fucking fantastic.”

The puppy raced away, grabbed a nearby plant in her mouth, and ripped. I jerked forward and pulled her away, gently scolding her.

A chuckle sounded. “Already a menace. I like her.”

I snorted, bringing her back to the blanket where I settled her down, engaging her with a toy. “How about Goldie?” I mused.

“For a name? A bit cliche, don’t you think?”

“Hm…” My eyes darted around the room, searching for ideas. “Ivy, maybe?” Laurent grunted. “Okay…Bella? Lucy? Daisy?” Laurent scoffed at each one. But he was right. None of them were a match.

“How about naming her after something you love?”

My forehead scrunched. The little fluff ball was on her back now, snapping her sharp teeth at the toy I wiggled over her. “I love piano. A composer, maybe?”

“And math,” he added.

My eyes darted over to him before returning to the puppy. “And math.”

“What else?”

“Hm…swimming. Reading.”

“Any favorite book characters?”

“Maybe.” I considered a few, but none of them were quite right. A frown pulled at my lips. Who would have thought naming a puppy would be so hard?

Laurent’s hum caught my attention, as if he’d decided on something.

“What do you have?”

“Cinnamon,” he said. “Cinna for short.”

I opened my mouth to disagree, then stopped. I glanced down at her. “Cinnamon…”

“Because you love cinnamon rolls.”

A laugh burst from my chest. Was I really sitting here with Laurent contemplating dog names? I rubbed my hand down her soft belly. It bulged because she’d probably gorged herself on food. My heart melted. “I have always wanted a dog,” I whispered aloud, still not quite able to believe this. My eyes betrayed me and filled with tears. It was the first time they’d welled with emotion since the witches had taken me. I’d always been a cryer, but after they’d tortured me, there had been no tears left.

Now, they were back.

I wanted to hate Laurent so much. It’s like he’d known this would change everything between us, even more than giving me his blood. Like he’d simply been baking me things to butter me up, and this was his grand gesture.

“Cinnamon,” I whispered. She stopped and turned her little puppy head toward me. Our eyes met. “Oh, my God. Her eyes are the color of cinnamon, too.”

That’s how I knew it was perfect.

I swept Cinna up into my arms and cuddled her against me. I couldn’t stop looking at her, rubbing my cheek against her soft little head. A tear dripped down my nose and into her fur. Laurent’s gaze was on me, like a heavy weight. Regardless of how I felt about him, I stilled beneath his attention.