Incredibly, it appeared that she meant the vicious monstrosity.
Cuan maintained his grip on his swords. “Where in the name of the Shining Ones did that creature come from?”
“Motley fetched him from the human world for me. And Angus is a Pomeranian, not a creature.” The woman held out the demonic fluff ball for his inspection. “He’s my dog.”
Cuan stared at the creature. ‘Dog’ was not the first word that sprang to mind. If pressed, he might have guessed that it was an unholy cross between a crocodile and a fox. Or possibly that it was the physical manifestation of pure primordial chaos. With teeth.
If this was what passed for a hound in the human realm, it was an even more dark and terrible place than he’d ever thought.
“You can come down from there,” the woman added, glancing up at him. “Angus is all bark and no bite. Well. Mostly. Anyway, he won’t hurt you.”
Angus fixed Cuan with a glare that clearly stated: I will rip out your innards and feast on your liver.
Nonetheless, Cuan released his swords, allowing the blades to dissolve back into the ether. His lady was fond of the horrifying beast, and it seemed to be a loyal—not to mention effective—guardian. He would just have to live with it. And invest in an armored codpiece.
He descended from his impromptu defensive fort, keeping a wary eye on the creature. “You met Motley?”
The woman nodded, still hugging the growling Angus. “He turned up after you passed out. He’s the one who fetched the healer. Aodhan.”
“Ah. That explains things.” Cuan offered her a wry smile, gesturing at his side. “I was wondering why I’d woken up alive.”
The woman’s eyes flicked down his torso. She cleared her throat, gaze jerking up to his face. “Um, maybe you should put a shirt on?”
She was concerned for his comfort? It was only the slightest hint of sentiment, yet it kindled a flicker of hope within his heart. Perhaps she was starting to see him as more than an unwanted captor.
“I thank you for your concern, but I am not cold.” It belatedly occurred to him that she might be chilled. “Are you not comfortable, my lady? You could warm yourself in my bed furs while I build up the fire.”
“Oh, things are hot enough around here already,” she muttered, sounding like she was talking to herself. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, as though he was an opponent in a duel. “But I’ll feel a lot more comfortable if you cover up.”
Puzzled, he glanced down at himself, wondering if perhaps he was still smeared in unpleasant bodily fluids. He could see nothing untoward about his appearance. Which made him wonder why he wasn’t plastered with his own blood.
A faint echo of his dream stirred at the back of his mind. “Did you…wash me?”
The warm flush to her cheeks deepened. She spun on her heel, putting her back to him. “Look, just put something on. Anything. Please.”
This abruptly seemed like an excellent idea. His imagination was supplying an all-too-clear vision of her soft hands running over his skin, and his leather trousers were very close fitting.
Down, he commanded his eager body, gritting his teeth.
He had to remember that she’d been torn from her home and thrown into a strange new place. And as if that wasn’t enough, she had seen him in animal form, savage and slavering. Displaying bestial urges in front of her wouldn’t help to win her trust.
He pulled a fresh tunic over his head, tugging it down. “My sincere apologies, my lady. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. Is this better?”
She nodded, although for some peculiar reason her eyes kept drifting to his biceps. “It’ll, uh, have to do. I’m Tamsin, by the way.”
“Tamsin,” he repeated, savoring the music of her name. “Tamsin. It is my honor. I am Cuan, unseelie high sidhe sworn to the court of Lady Maeve.”
“I know.” She bit her lip. “Listen, Cuan. Aodhan said that there’s some kind of spell on me, that means I’ll die if I go back home. Is that true?”
“Unlike Aodhan, I am no scholar of magic. But as far as I know…yes. Tithing is an ancient and powerful ritual. You are bound to our realm now.”
Angus was struggling in Tamsin’s arms, small paws scrabbling for freedom. Tamsin bent to release her pet, and Cuan braced himself—but the fluffy orange terror didn’t immediately lunge for his tenderest parts. The dog did, however, give his groin a narrow-eyed, lingering stare before trotting off to sniff at the discarded bed covers. Cuan had an uneasy certainty that the animal was waiting for his guard to drop. And that it was very, very patient.
Tamsin’s eyes followed her pet as it nosed around the room, but Cuan had a sense that her thoughts were elsewhere. She hugged herself, hands rubbing at her arms as though cold. The worry weighing down the corners of her mouth made his heart hurt. He would have traded away his own soul to see her smile.
He sought for comforting words, since he had no magic to ease her troubled mind. “I know that this is all strange and new to you now, but I promise, in time you will wonder how you could ever have lived anywhere else. The fae realms offer far more wonders than your ugly human world. This is a blessing, not a curse.”
She shook her head in a sharp arc of denial. “Can you undo it? The tithe magic, I mean. That elf woman gave me to you. Does that mean you can set me free?”