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“Looks like love,” Dane joked.
“Mind your tongue, mortal.”
The boy raised a brow. Humiliation burned at the back of Christian’s neck. She was making a spectacle of both of them.
“You’re hurting me!” He wasn’t, but her dramatic cry lured Dane closer.
Christian shot him a threatening look and bared his teeth, making it clear that any interference on the matter of him and his mate would not be tolerated. The young man had been around long enough to understand their laws and immediately backed up, choosing to ignore Delilah’s hysterical pleas and listen to Christian’s warning growl.
Dane shook his head. “I see she’s experienced your full, ruthless charm.”
Christian snarled, not appreciating his snide commentary. Half-brother or not, there was no love lost between them. The boy didn’t belong on the farm, and it was against Christian’s recommendation that the bishop allowed him and his mute sister to stay—a sister who was now deranged and would likely need to be put down after her unlawful transition.
Irritated, he dragged his mate away from the barn, unsure how to convince her that she could not carry on in such a manner. “This behavior is unacceptable.” In time, she would appreciate having an adamant male who was as resolute and enduring as he.
Dane called after him, “Your mother’s looking for you, by the way.”
The last thing he needed to think about during a time like this was his mother.
The moment the compulsion wore off, Delilah kicked her legs out, flinging her feet off the ground and swinging her head toward his face. He hauled her back, this time hoisting her onto his shoulder.
“Oomph! Put me down!” She kicked and screamed, raining punches onto his back.
“You’re behaving like a feral cat.” Christian lugged her back to the house.
Eventually, Delilah’s frantic kicking gave way to feeble swats and pitiful pleading. “Please, don’t do this. I have no money.”
“I don’t want money.”
“Then what? Are you going to kill me? Sell me? I’ll run. I’ll never stop fighting you.”
“Your life is incredibly important to me, pintura. Once you calm down, I’ll explain our situation, but first, you must settle yourself.”
She squirmed and elbowed him in the kidney. He grunted, but refused to let her go.
“Put. Me. Down.”
Growing tired of her endless opposition, he doubled his pace. Once in the house, he slammed the front door and locked it. Taking her back upstairs to the bedroom, he deposited her on the bed. She immediately sprang forward, but he pointed a finger at her and gave an unbreakable command.
“Stay!”
“I’m not a fucking dog!”
He lunged forward, losing his patience. “I grow tired of your filthy language and insolence. Sit down and be silent.”
She dropped her weight onto the bed. Her jaw trembled, and he immediately wanted to apologize but thought it might be better to show strength at the moment. Still, he silently relieved her of any compulsion, preferring that she follow his command out of honor and respect rather than force.
“Do not move from that bed.” He’d never known a female could have such a filthy mouth.
He left the room and slammed the door, swinging out his hand at the last moment to compel the latch to lock. Her footsteps rushed after him, followed by her heavy pounding on the wood. “Let me out of here!”
He tipped his head back, surprised to find a strange crick in his neck. Was that tension?
He debated what to do with her. A wooden door was no obstacle for an immortal and she would soon realize that.
The pounding stopped and he listened as drawers opened and closed. She rummaged through his personal belongings, pacing and banging on the walls, slamming into his furniture and throwing items against the door.
When his patience wore thin, he yanked the knob. Delilah blinked up at him, the metal doorknob, now detached from the hardware, filled her fist. Beveled grooves and imprints from her palm marked the walls. She hurled the doorknob at him and he ducked.
“You’re breaking my house.”
She kicked the dresser and it slammed into the adjacent wall. “Let me out of here.”
“I will when I have your word you’ll behave yourself.”
She snatched his hat off the floor. “I’ll shred it,” she threatened. “I’ll destroy everything you own unless you let me go.”
He chuckled, amused that she assumed her value was equivalent to that of a hat or a house or any other possession he might claim. “There are countless hats in the world, pintura, but only one of you.”
Panting, she dropped the hat to the floor and stomped on the crown with her bare foot, crushing the shape. The motion jostled her loose breast under her gown, and he found himself distracted.
Recalling the way her nipples wore metal rings, his mind drifted to a wild fantasy, which was all he could enjoy at the moment with her despising him as she did. His body hardened and he took a step forward, tapping the underside of her chin with his finger as she glared up at him and seethed.
