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“So, you’re telling me”—I eat another piece of tart and chew thoughtfully—“the things in the walls which I can’t see arranged adate nightfor us?”

“I do not know what sort of a night that is,” Fenrother says. The table makes another splintering sound as I lick the tines of the fork. “But I know I like to watch you eat.”

“I don’t think I can eat this entire tart to your order. It isn’t good for humans to just eat sweets,” I say, eyeing the rest of the crisp pastry and filling.

I mean, I probably would, if my life depended on it.

“Eat,” Fenrother snarls, the noise going straight to my core.

Maybe my life does depend on it.

I consume another forkful, and as before, it’s even more delicious than the last, eliciting further noises of approval. I’m acutely aware of the destruction being wrought to the tabletop at Fenrother’s end, but I’m also equally intrigued as to what he’s going to do about it.

He ordered me to eat after all.

I get to about the halfway point in the tart, and I know I can’t possibly fit any more in, good though it is. It seems like Fenrother has won this one. I lay the fork down and pat my stomach.

“I can’t possibly eat another bite.”

“I can,” Fenrother growls.

ALICE

Imight have been doing what he asked, but perhaps I took it too far. Fenrother’s eyes have gone from sparkling to darkness as he pulls his claws free, one by one, from the table. His gaze is hungrier than anything I’ve ever seen, his scales rippling in the flickering light of the fire. His tail is uncustomarily still, and his wings appear to have expanded exponentially.

He breathes audibly.

I may have overdone things. I didn’t mean to tease him in any way. He knows nothing, and all I’m doing is riling him up.

Actions have consequences, Alice.

I know, right here and right now, I am going to regret the consequences of my actions. Or, at least, my head is going to regret them. My body on the other hand has distinctly other ideas.

With the slow, jerky movements of a hunting cat, Fenrother rounds the end of the table and moves towards me. I consider running, but he is one enormous predator who will catch me probably before I trip over this stupid dress and go flying.

“The text mentioned something else females like,” he says. “Other than eating.”

He breaks off a piece of the tart and wolfs it down like he’s a creature starved.

“What?” I’m interested, afraid, and strangely, strangely, I’m…turned on?

“It’s about putting my mouth on yours.” He flashes me a set of teeth which would not be out of place on a great white shark. “Females like it.”

“Females like it if it’s done properly,” I counter.

That stops him in his tracks.

“Have you put your mouth on another male before?” Fenrother growls, his eyes glittering with menace.

I contemplate my answer. I don’t want to be untruthful, even if the number of kisses I’ve had is not numerous.

“Yes,” I say, folding my arms, teasing the beast once again. “So, I know how.”

A snarl steals through Fenrother’s chest, and for a second, I think he’s going to demand names and addresses. Instead he throws his shoulders back and glares.

“Show me.”

“That isnothow this works, Fenrother,” I say, exasperated.