Page 29 of Hateful Prince
“Dieter? Are you serious? He wouldn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. He’s a fucking mouth breather. He once asked me why they call my realm Hades.”
“If you’re really that worried about it, we can leave right now. Grab your girl and let’s go.”
The temptation to do exactly that had been so strong I’d nearly given in more than once. But the problem was, someone set me up, and if I took her now, I may lose her all over again. I had to deal with the threat first, then we’d see about going home.
“No.”
“All right, then. You’re just going to have to put up with me. And trust that I know how to do my godsdamned job. You know, the same one I’ve been doing for millennia.”
I heaved a sigh. “I asked you one fucking question, and we’ve been here arguing for the last ten minutes.”
“Six. But who’s counting? Now, come on. I have some belly rubs to collect.”
He trotted down the hall, his little nails click-clacking on the hardwood.
I followed him belatedly. Not because I didn’t want to see Dahlia, but because I did. And I didn’t think I could take another of her rejections. I poured my heart out to her, and she’d shut down. Accused me of using her as a stand-in for someone else.
As if I wouldn’t recognize my own soulmate. Fuck, even when I didn’t know my damn name, my soul still cried out for her.
“Asshole, sit,” I hissed as he reached the partially open music room door. The last thing I needed was for her to see me spying on her.
Thank fuck, the pup did as I commanded. That was the thing about him. When I really meant it, he listened.
The heavily ornamented strains of the piano rang out, and I couldn’t help myself as I peered into the room. Hook sat at the piano, rocking on the bench, eyes closed as he played while Dahlia sat near him and scribbled in her notebook.
“Of course he’d choose the Sarabande from Bach’s fifth French suite,” I muttered under my breath.
Maybe I should shove him out of his seat and show her how well my fingers worked those keys. A little Chopin. Maybe some Rachmaninoff. I had the hands for it.
“You sound jealous.”
“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”
“Hey, everyone needs someone to hold up the mirror and call them on their shit. I’m just being a good friend. One might say, your best friend.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t find it in my heart to disagree. Instead I squatted down beside him so I could give him a few conciliatory ear scritches. “Good boy,” I grumbled.
“Aren’t you gonna go in there?”
I wanted to, but a big part of me also wanted her to come to me first. Something in me needed to know I was chosen. The devil take it, she was ruining me.
My palm was on the door, the urge to go get her like he asked burning through me. I could go inside, snag her by the wrist, drag her down to the underworld, and make her my queen all over again. But would she ever love me if I did that?
Asshole whined and turned big dark eyes on me. “You took away her choice once before. We saw how well that turned out. Maybe don’t make that mistake again.”
The scent of burning wood hit my nose, and I released the doorframe with a muttered curse, grimacing a little at the seared handprint.
“She’ll come to me. She will.”
Asshole pawed at my leg, asking me to pick him up. I scooped him into my arms, and immediately, the pup licked my chin. “That’s right. That’s some big dog energy.”
I’d never admit it out loud, but his reassurance eased some of the ache in my heart as I forced myself to walk away from the only thing I’d ever truly wanted.
Chapter
Nine
DAHLIA