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He could be pissed off for whatever the hell reason he wanted.
Odin stepped away from her and approached Hunter, bringing his arms up to cage him in with his hands at either side of the doorframe. It effectively blocked out the rest of the room, forcing all of Hunter’s attention on him and him alone.
“Madam Moon is going to help you get ready,” Odin told him softly, keeping his voice low, “and you’re going to be good and let her. This party is important. Nothing can go wrong.”
“If you’re worried about that,” Hunter held his gaze unflinchingly, “then leave me behind.”
He cocked his head. “Threatening to cause trouble, Huntsman?”
Hunter didn’t reply, but that was answer enough.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about trying to escape?” Odin leaned in so that his mouth was right next to his ear. “Where we’re going, that wouldn’t be in your best interest at all.”
He hesitated and then asked, “Where are we going?”
“Faraway Mansion.”
Hunter pulled back with an exhale, searching Odin’s eyes as if trying to see if it was a jest.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“The Octu Gala.”
“You remember it.” Odin couldn’t recall if Hunter had ever attended. That event was always meant to bolster the family in the eye of the public, and even from a young age, Odin had been forced to make the rounds, appeasing the guests and dazzling them with his cool charms. It’d been boring as all hell. “Have you ever been?”
Hunter shook his head.
“I wish I could tell you that it’s your lucky night, but…”
“I’m a prisoner, and you’re taking me to the one place where someone who wants to kill me even more than you will be,” Hunter finished for him.
“Sticking with that story that Isa wants you dead?” Even if it were the truth, Frost wouldn’t risk it on a night like tonight. Appearances, and all that.
“He didn’t let me go, Snow. If he sees me—”
“Stay close.” He dropped one of his arms, looping it around Hunter’s waist to ease him in. Surprisingly, the Huntsman didn’t resist. “Stay close and behave. I promise, if you do those two things, I won’t let anything happen to you tonight.”
“I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Hunter demanded. He was nervous, though, and it showed.
Odin was tempted to consider that he might be telling the truth where Isa was concerned, but he couldn’t afford to waver now. If he let Hunter sit out because it would be uncomfortable or even a little dangerous, he’d be doing exactly what Corbi had warned.
He wouldn’t allow the Huntsman to play him again. He wasn’t an eighteen-year-old boy anymore.
Odin forced his expression to harden some. “You have two options. Come to the party with me, where I’ll keep you safe. Or stay here and come…” He lowered his gaze down pointedly.
Hunter shoved him away and quickly moved past him before Odin could regain his upper hand. He went straight to the bed and grabbed the suit pants.
“Wait,” Odin stopped him before he could try to slip them on beneath the towel. The second drawer of the dresser had an assortment of boxers and boxer briefs, and he selected a bright red pair and held them out to Hunter, waiting for the man to give in and come over to take them. “Change in the bathroom.”
Just because he wasn’t going to cater to him and leave him behind didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed by the half-naked Huntsman and the people staring.
Hunter lifted a brow, and it annoyed Odin that he didn’t seem to mind the four women standing in the room with them, none of whom were doing an excellent job of keeping their hungry gazes lowered.
Odin sent a glare toward the three helpers against the wall, and they all startled and instantly dropped their eyes to the floor.
“Don’t be so possessive, boss,” Moon suggested silkily. “He’s skinnier than your usual type, but we can all see what you find so…appealing about him.” She licked her lips.
“Hunter,” Odin repeated, “change in the bathroom.”
