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“The Dominus is busy at the moment and has requested he not be disturbed for any reason other than—”
“This is an emergency, damn it!” he cut her off. “Get him on the phone right now, Loni, or I swear you’ll have to explain to him later why I’m injured.”
Her blank exterior fractured a bit, just enough for him to see the crack. “Are you threatening to harm yourself right now, Mr. Thorn?”
“Call it whatever the fuck you want to,” he said, “so long as you call Snow in the process.” When she still made no moves to follow his order, he switched tactics. “Come on, Loni. You owe me one for what happened back at the Faraway Mansion. Do this, and we’ll be even, yeah? You’ve got to see the benefit of making me your friend instead of your enemy.”
She hesitated. He’d never asked her to do anything before, and he doubted she’d been given explicit instructions not to contact Odin if Hunter wanted to speak with him. Most likely, she would have already if she hadn’t been told not to bother him, which only intensified the anxious feeling in Hunter’s gut.
What the hell was Snow doing that he couldn’t be bothered?
“One minute, Mr. Thorn.” Loni’s image vanished from the screen, and for a second, Hunter was left staring at nothing but black.
He waited, impatience surmounting until finally, a strong voice spoke through the box.
“Huntsman,” Odin sounded slightly annoyed but otherwise all right, “what’s wrong?”
“How bad is it?” he demanded, not bothering with semantics, letting out a warning growl when he was met with silence. “You left blood all over the pillow, Snow, don’t bother denying it.”
“Are you concerned for me?” His voice dropped an octave, pleased.
“I’ll hang up.”
“You’re the one who pushed for this call,” Odin reminded, then sighed. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”
“Did you see a doctor?”
“No need.”
“At least tell me you cleaned the wound. It was a lot of blood. Head injuries are no joke.”
“Don’t worry,” Odin said. “I won’t die on you and leave you trapped, Huntsman.” Someone called for him in the background. “Wait for me.”
The call ended with a click, and Hunter clenched his jaw in frustration. Bastard. What the hell else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could leave.
He was tempted to bang on the door again just to annoy Loni, but throwing a tantrum like a child would get him nowhere. Ironic too, considering he was older than Odin, yet he was the one considering such juvenile acts to blow off steam.
Snow had left abruptly the other day, but Hunter had just assumed it was more of the same old territory fights or a minor scuffle within the Brumal. From the looks of the blood stain and the sounds of things, however, whatever was going on out there, it was much bigger than he’d first believed.
Instead of being trapped in this room, he should be out there help—
Hunter came to an abrupt stop. What the hell had he been about to think just now?
When they’d been younger, and he’d first been assigned to Odin’s private security detail, he’d been elated. In his mind, it was a chance to gaze at the Brumal Prince without the risk of being caught. He’d have a good enough excuse, after all, could easily claim he was just watching out for signs of trouble.
And he had done that as well. He’d been the first to step forward if anyone even remotely shady had entered the same room as Odin Snow, let alone dared approach him. Hell, he’d paid such good attention to the details; it’d gotten to the point where he knew all of Snow’s ticks, knew exactly when he wasn’t comfortable around someone, even when he outwardly faked it.
Hunter had been disgustingly obsessed.
But that had been then, and this was now. The Odin he’d known in the past had been dangerous, wicked, sure, but he’d also been kind and gentle where Hunter was concerned. He’d taken time out of his schedule to ask Hunter about his day, his likes…The Snow Dominus he knew now was brash and aggressive. Harsh and possessive. As a teen, he’d had Hunter eating scraps out of the palm of his hand, but as an adult…
He pressed a hand to his chest and inhaled slowly, trying to sort through these feelings. It would be great if he could blame it on biology, on being a Whisper simply reacting to a Shout, but he knew better. What they were didn’t dictate their emotions.
The idea of Odin out there, in danger, alone…
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. What if the bastard got himself killed? Or maimed? What if he came back to him missing a limb or an eye or with his face slashed? Hunter had seen all of those things happen to other members of the Brumal when he’d been working for them in the past. Of course, Odin was different, stronger. Powerful. But he wasn’t invincible.
He thought about his promise before signing off, letting him know he wouldn’t leave him trapped. Was that what this was? Hunter had a crush, maybe, sure. But was the true root of these feelings fear for himself instead of the Dominus?
