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She bit her lip, looking away, and snatched her hand out of my grip.
“A pickpocket at the train station,” she muttered, glancing up at me from under her lowered brows. “He tried to steal my ticket.”
“Oh, no,” the priestess said sympathetically, making me jerk. I was so focused on Scarlett, I almost forgot she was still there, watching our interaction. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
Scarlett shook her head, giving the priestess a grim smile that looked really out of place on her sweet face, and yet, did things to me. Things that soon would become painfully obvious to anyone who looked at my pants if I didn’t get a grip.
Why was this woman making me act like I was a young buck with hormones all abuzz? It was embarrassing.
“You should be asking how muchIhurthimfor trying to steal from me,” Scarlett said, her voice vicious and low. “I think I knocked out a tooth. He’ll remember me every time he tries to bite off a piece of meat. Bastard.”
I chuckled, not even trying to hide my reaction, because I was so focused on keeping my cock from sliding free. Scarlett gave me a sharp look, her grim smile replaced by an angry frown. “Why are you just standing there, laughing at me? Don’t we have somewhere to be?Why are you late?”
The way she spoke that last question gave me pause. For a moment, she looked not just angry, but also scared. Yet that look flashed on and off her face, making me think I only imagined it. I couldn’t dwell on it, either way, because my initial daze had worn off enough for reason to come back.
And I had to tell her. There was no way around it.
“Well, uh, you see…” I started, glancing helplessly at the priestess, who pursed her lips and leaned back with her arms folded, making it plain she wouldn’t help me. “I… That is… I didn’t even want to apply!” I burst out.
Scarlett’s face paled, but she said nothing, watching me with that angry scowl. I continued, determined to deal with it fast so I could go home.
Without her.For some reason, that thought wasn’t as appealing now that I actually saw her. When she had been just a faceless human bride, I could cast her aside without a thought. Now? I felt a pang of reluctance.
But it had to be done, so I plowed on.
“I did it on a dare, and before I could take it back, they told me I had a match. But I… I’m too young to get married!”
Scarlett looked confused as she cocked her head to the side and gave me a quick once-over. Her voice was hoarse when she asked, “How old are you?”
I sighed and scratched the back of my head, feeling really sheepish. I knew how my answer would sound to her. But it wasn’t my fault human lifespans were so short compared to ours.
“Fifty-four. But,” I raised a finger when she drew in a big breath, probably getting ready to yell at me, “that’s like barely a quarter of my lifespan! It’s like… like… How longdohumans live?” I asked, turning to the priestess.
“Eighty years if we’re lucky,” she said, her eyebrow twitching. I couldn’t tell whether she was amused or displeased at this point.
“Thank you. So it’s as if you got married at twenty,” I said, pointing a triumphant finger at Scarlett. For some reason, I was eager to make her see my point and not think badly of me, even though I would never see her again. Which wasridiculous.
“I am twenty-six,” she said in a low voice that sounded calm but really wasn’t. The fur at the base of my tail stood on end at the sound of it. It was… predatory.
Also freakishly hot. And terrifying.
“Well, still young by human standards, eh?” I said, unsure what she meant by telling me her age.
Scarlett shot me an icy look and straightened even more. And holy shit, I was significantly taller than her, but suddenly, I felt small as she glared at me. “A lot of people marry at twenty even if I didn’t. It’s an appropriate age for marriage, so it must be something else. Spit it out,groom.Just say it.”
My tail flicked with agitation as I pressed my lips together, very reluctant to just “spit it out”. Playing for time, I raked my eyes over her frame once more and noticed with a jolt that her hands, balled into tight fists, were trembling. The right one was bleeding, a small rivulet of blood slithering down the back of her palm.
“I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.”
I stared at her trembling hand, watching as a drop of blood reached her bent knuckle and hung precariously off it. Her skin under the red was white from how hard she clenched her palm, and the sight made a sharp pang pierce my chest. I refused to look up at Scarlett’s face, terrified of her expression.
Because she should be relieved, right? No human in her right mind would want a big, furry monster. She even called me a furball, which clearly meant she opposed to my appearance. And I wasn’t a good husband material, anyway.
She should be happy, but the fur down my back bristled with the electrifying awareness that she was as far from glad as a person could be, and it baffled me.
I looked up in time to see a grimace of fury settle on Scarlett’s dainty face. “I don’t accept this,” she said, her nostrils flaring with sharp breaths. “Try again, furball.”
I frowned, staring at her body, which vibrated visibly. She was so tense, I could see a muscle in her jaw jumping, her shoulders hunched protectively, posture leaning forward, like she was ready to fight me.
