Isellta cleared his throat. “Umm. Hello?”
Mark Caten didn’t wake up.
I can’t go over there and touch him.
He tilted his head.
But maybe that would work.
Isellta straightened his shoulders and approached the bed. As he had expected, the magic pushed them apart, shoving Mark Caten and all his blankets off the bed.
“arrraaahhff!” Mark Caten slapped his hands onto the bed and pushed himself up.
“Hello.” said Isellta.
Mark bleared a death-dealing glare at him. “Oh. Cupcake’s little boy toy.”
Isellta took a breath to speak.
Mark held up a hand. “Wait. Don’t even say it. Let me guess. You’re going to say something like this:” He cleared his throat. “‘Oh, please great and glorious sun god! Set my darling Cupcake Queen and me free so we can return to our kingdom in the sky and make love all day and all night to the sounds of crickets and cicadas.”
“Um. I don’t want to go back with her, but I would like it if you set us free.”
“Aww, you’re so nice. You ‘would like it’. No wonder Preyuna has the hots for you. But don’t get over-excited, boy. She’s mine. She may play lover with you and play dress up the fey with you, but Preyuna is all mine.” An obnoxious smile greased its way across his face. “So, give up. I’m not going to let her leave me.”
Isellta nodded. “I understand that. I can see those lines. They match up perfectly.”
“Of course, they do.”
“But I am not yours to keep. Let me go.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” He slapped the bed. “Oh, hold on one moment….Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Isellta blinked his confusion. “Umm. Did I say something funny?”
“Obviously. Yeah, I’m not going to have naked fun time with you. You aren’t my type. I like my women to be full of fire and anger. You are not a woman and you’re too soft and squishy to meet my angry lover needs. But! You belonged to Olessa. That makes you mine. I may not have any use for you, but you are mine.”
He smirked and Isellta quietly reconsidered his Don’t Kill thoughts. “So, get yourself a subscription to Reader’s Digest because you’re going to be here for a very long time.”
“Please. I need you to release me. My Robin is going to—-”
He yawned, a large, over-the-top yawn. “It’s so quiet in here.”
“—-come here on Sunday. This Sunday.”
“Yep. So quiet.” He tried to climb into his bed, but the magic pushed him back onto the floor.
Isellta tilted his head.
I can use this to my advantage.
He walked around to the other side of the bed.
Mark Caten stood.
Only to be pushed up against the wall as Isellta came too close.
“Let Her Majesty and I go. With our teleport abilities intact. With no stipulations. With no—-”
Mark Caten glared at him. ‘You think you can push me around like this, you puny, rat-filled muppet? I am a god.”
“I don’t know if that is true. Or if you’re just being overly imaginative.”
Mark Caten’s mouth dropped open.
“But the fact is: I do have you pinned against a wall. If I force myself to come too close, the pressure from the magical barrier will snap your bones. This is not an exaggeration. It is simple truth.”
“You filthy, scuzzy little whore.”
“You think you can bully me. You think you can make me bend and snap to your will. You won’t. I am Mark Freakin’ Caten. No one tells me what to do. Especially not a little strand of pink cotton candy fluff like you.”
Cotton candy fluff? Cotton. Candy. Fluff.
Cotton is for clothes. How can it be candy? That doesn’t make any sense. Do they boil it in sugar and chocolate?
He stuck the tip of his tongue out.
That sounds awful. But humans routinely don’t make sense. So, maybe they do eat it like that.
I’ll never understand them.
“Please. I’d rather not hurt you. If we can just discuss this and come to a reasonable agreement.”
“Well, that’s wonderfully civilized of you, but there’s a problem. I know what I want. I will not yield. I don’t care what you want. I don’t care if your scarred vampire is your one true love, your one hope for happiness, or whatever trite tripe trope you want to use. I don’t care.”
“Then, she was right about you. I thought that maybe she was wrong. Maybe—-”
“And I don’t fall into guilt traps. So, shut it, whore, and get your skinny little self out of my room.”
Isellta’s wings flared out. “I am not a whore.”
“Really? How many times have you done it with her? Four? Five? times?”
“But…I’ve never been with anyone else.”
“How many times have you done it out of love or lust or whatever drives a fey to bed?”
His wings flattened.
“How many times have you done it for some favor?”
Isellta backed away from him.
“You sure you aren’t a whore?” His gaze traveled down Isellta’s outfit. “You sure dress like one.”
Isellta shuddered and left the room.