Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(45)

There was only one person on the island who would wear that.

Sorcha nudged the door open the entire way and peered upwards. Outlined by the moon, the master of the isle stared back at her. His cloak made it impossible for her to guess where he was looking, but she could feel the heat of his gaze as if it was a physical touch.

“Good evening,” she said. Her words were biting and quick. He was the last person she wanted to see tonight.

“What is that?”

Sorcha blinked. “You must be more specific.”

“In your arms.”

“Oh,” she glanced down at Boggart, who tightened her hold upon Sorcha’s neck. “This is Boggart.”

“I know who it is, but why isn’t she glamoured?”

“You frightened her.”

“I frightened her?” he growled.

“That incessant knocking would frighten even the bravest of beasts.”

The fire cracked, an ember shooting across the room. Its light cast a brief glow across his features, revealing a glint in his eyes which made Sorcha shiver.

“But not you.” His voice was a physical caress, dancing down her spine until it curled her toes.

“I am neither man nor beast, sir. You’ll find women are far more difficult to frighten.”

She turned away from him. He was ruining all her plans! Now Boggart was too scared for bribery, and Macha knew how long it would take until Sorcha could get her information. The tiny creature was fragile.

Anger coursed through her veins until a flush burned her cheeks. She wanted to fly at him, to scratch at the ugly crystals marring his face and scream that he had no right. The ridiculous, pompous, overbearing ass that he was.

Through all her raging emotions, her hands remained gentle upon Boggart. She soothed the creature with soft circular motions and laid her on the bed.

“There, there,” she murmured. “You stay here and I’ll make him go away. Will that help?”

Boggart nodded.

“Good. Hide under the covers and I’ll come get you when he’s gone.”

This would be easy. It was exactly what Sorcha wanted, and now she had an excuse to usher him away. Hopefully, Boggart would then calm down, and Sorcha could sweet talk her for information about the very man she was forcing to leave.

She wiped her hands against her skirt and marched towards the door with renewed purpose.

“I’m afraid I must ask you to leave,” she said.

“No.”

He said the word as if it ended the argument. As if just by imperiously inserting himself into her life, he could dictate what he wanted, however he wanted it.

She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“No.”

“Might I ask why you are refusing to leave my doorstep even though I have requested that your presence no longer darken it?”

“This isle, and everything on it, is under my command. I do as I please.”

He moved to step over the threshold. Sorcha ground her teeth, the muscles of her jaw flexing in anger. “If you take one more step, I will activate every protection spell on this cursed hut and expel you from this room.”

His foot hovered just above the interior of her home. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would dare much, sir, against a man who seemingly does not understand boundaries. You must ask a woman if you may enter their abode, and when granted approval, you may do so. If they request you leave, then you remove yourself. As far as lording over all who linger on this isle, I must inquire who named you king. They must be sorely lacking in wits!”

If he continued, she would figure out how to activate those spells. She was no witch, but he had no way of knowing she was bluffing.

He inclined his head. “You are correct. My apologies, m’lady, I was out of line.”

Sorcha found herself incapable of words. This man never ceased to surprise her. He was an ass, of that she was certain, but she hadn’t expected an apology. Let alone an admission of guilt. Was he capable of self-reflection?

She cocked her head to the side, looking him up and down. “What did you say?”

“I have not been in court for many years. My manners are not what they used to be.” He swept his cloak to the side, crossed an arm over his waist, and bowed. “I humbly request your presence at dinner this evening.”

“I’m eating here.”

“The castle can offer much finer dining.”

“Be that as it may,” Sorcha gestured towards the fire, “dinner is already cooking.”

“Then as forward as it is, I request you allow me to stay. You need not provide food, merely company.”

Sorcha panicked. She didn’t want him to stay! How was she going to get Boggart to speak? Stammering, she pointed towards the bed. “I’m afraid Boggart is quite frightened of you. It wouldn’t be polite to allow you to stay when—”

“Boggart is not afraid of me.” The head of his cloak shook. “She’s afraid I plan to take you away from her, like I did her hag. Might I come in?”

“I— Why did you remove the hag?”

“She was dangerous. Her spells were reaching the castle and wreaking havoc among my people.”

“You were protecting the faeries?”

“That is my job. They take care of me, and I protect them.”