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“With this necklace, my tail is invisible.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Very useful for acquiring things unnoticed.”
My jaw drops. “Who did you steal from?” I hiss, gaze sweeping the room. “What if they find out?”
He sits back in his chair and gives me an unbothered look. “Even if they do, what can they do to me? I am a—”
“Dear,” I say loudly, cutting him off as a Dwarf walks up to us. His face strikingly similar to the man at the bar. He smiles widely. “Hi, I’m Olmar. My father says you’re staying with us this evening.” Ah, that makes sense. He’s the innkeeper’s son. “Here you are, good sir and lovely lady,” he says, giving me a wink.
Aurdyn growls low and the Dwarf takes a healthy step back.
I kick him under the table and his head snaps to me. “What was that for?” He gives me an indignant look. “Why did you kick me?”
I stop short of facepalming myself and plaster a saccharine smile on my face. “Nothing darling. My foot accidentally slipped.”
He narrows his eyes, but remains silent.
I turn to the Dwarf and offer a polite grin. “I’m Mary and this is my husband, Jon.”
Aurdyn huffs, but I do my best to ignore him.
“Lovely to meet you, fair Mary,” Olmar flashes a winning smile. “We do not get many humans in these parts. And definitely not many as beautiful as you.” He waggles his brows at Aurdyn. “You’re a lucky man, Jon.”
I wince inwardly. Apparently, Olmar loves flirting with danger.
Aurdyn glares at the Dwarf. If looks could kill, I’m certain Olmar would be dead a thousand times over by now.
His face pales as he sets two bowls of soup down before us, hands shaking as he does so. It seems he may have just realized how foolish it was to rile my “husband.” When he sets the mead tankards on the table, I lift my gaze to him. “Uh… is there any way we could have some water instead?”
His face twists in a grimace. “I doubt you’d like the water here.” He pushes the mead closer. “Trust me.”
The last thing we need is to fall ill, so I thank him for the meal and the mead and he quickly disappears back into the crowd.
As soon as he’s gone, I give Aurdyn a pointed look. “Could you please stop growling at everyone?”
“I will if they stop eyeing you like you’re a tasty morsel,” he grumbles.
“What do you care if they look at me?”
“What sort of male would not be upset about another gazing lustily upon his mate?”
While I appreciate him trying to protect me, it’s going to draw attention. “We’re notactuallymarried,” I counter.
“Theydo not know that, my darlingMary,” he emphasizes my fake name and gestures angrily toward the bar. “As far as they are concerned,youare my mate andtheyare disrespecting both of us and the sanctity of our union by staring at you thus.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And what sort of name is Jon?”
“A human one,” I say pointedly.
“It sounds like the name of a simpleton,” he grumbles. “Not a warrior.”
“My grandfather’s name was Jon.” I struggle to hide my annoyance. “And you’re supposed to be a laborer, not a warrior, remember?”
He huffs out another wisp of smoke.
“And stop doing that?” I hiss. “You’re going to give yourself away with all that smoke coming out of your nostrils.”
Aurdyn leans in. “And just how do you expect me to do that? It’s not as if I can control it.”
“Maybe try acting happy instead of annoyed?” I say pointedly.
He growls low in his throat.
