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I scowled, and Mare took a quick step back.
“She won’t hurt you. She’s just tired and hungry. I’ll be out to make her something to eat soon.” He eased me toward the door to my bedroom while my mind reeled.
When he’d shut and locked the door behind us, trapping me in my room with him, his eyes fixated on the nearest wall. I growled at him as he studied one of the more gruesome paintings, wearing a wicked grin.
“Has Vevol been speaking to you, Gorgeous?” he mused.
I snapped my teeth at him for his use of the awful nickname he’d taken to calling me, earning a chuckle.
Damn him.
I snapped my teeth again and he held his arm out for me, his grin widening. “Go ahead. All yours.”
I withdrew quickly, and he snorted.
His attention moved back to my paintings, and I growled at him again even though it hadn’t done a damn thing thus far.
“I like your style,” he told me, his hand sliding into the fur on top of my head. “It’s much more fluid than mine, and it suits you.”
If I’d been in human form, I would’ve blushed.
It was probably the best compliment I’d ever received.
No one ever really saw my art on Earth, and that hadn’t changed since I came to Vevol. Priel’s experience was the opposite; his entire pack wore his art proudly, and the man himself was a walking advertisement.
He stepped up closer to the wall with the most gruesome painting, studying it more carefully. Not wanting to see his reactions, I huffed and walked over to my bed, collapsing on the mattress. When it suddenly caught fire, I yelped, jumping off of it and lunging away.
Priel put out the flames with a simple hand motion, and then gestured for me to go over to him. Ignoring the smell of burnt bedding, I reluctantly padded to his side.
“Vevol has been sending you warnings,” he told me, his voice no longer playful. “I recognize all of the fae in this painting. That’s no coincidence. And given the many brands she left on your skin, Vevol has clearly chosen you as a vehicle for her warnings.”
I scoffed.
He stroked my fur, and my body unconsciously moved closer to his.
The man hadn’t noticed the small details from my dreams of the two of us that had embedded themselves in my paintings yet, thankfully. Mostly, they were just small, hidden images of his tattoos. I hoped hewouldn’tnotice them. My mind tried to push me to illustrate the scenes in detail, but I’d managed to prevent myself from doing so. If I painted a large image of Priel making love to me, there wasn’t a damn chance I would ever move past my obsession with him.
“You see fae burning,” he murmured, walking over to another wall. “Hounds, even.”
I didn’t bother nodding.
The walls were proof enough of what I’d seen.
“Do the other women know?” He looked down at me.
I shook my head in a “no”.
“Hmm.” He moved to the next wall, which my bed rested against. It was a simple mattress with a large headboard. I’d pushed it forward enough to paint behind it ages ago, and never pushed it back, but it hid the shit I’d painted there anyway.
Imuchpreferred that he didn’t see that painting, but fought the urge to cover it with my body.
He studied the image silently before moving to the fourth. Relief coursed through me. He hadn’t noticed the brief bits and pieces of his tattoos embedded in the other paintings, which was a huge relief.
As long as he didn’t look behind the bed, I was in the clear.
He finally walked me into the bathroom, quiet and contemplative. When he stepped into the shower, I growled at him.
His lips curved upward in amusement. “I’m not going to make you shower, Gorgeous. I was going to catch myself on fire to clean my skin. It’s more effective than water, even if you don’tfeelquite as refreshed as if you took a real shower.”
