My lips form a tight line. I only fed him a few hours ago. He’s not getting any more.
“I can’t have us both tracking cum around the cottage.”
The hound tilts his head and whines.
“We both need a wash.”
He digs his paws into the floor and growls.
“Yes, even you,” I say.
He shakes his coat, splattering cum across the rest of the floors, the walls, and even the kitchen cabinet. Afterward, he gives me a happy bark as though to tell me he’s clean.
My jaw clenches, and I have to stop my nostrils from flaring.
“If you understand that washing equals bathing, then you must also understand that dirtying walls is bad.” I wag my finger.
He barks a denial.
“You either get clean or get out.” I point at the door.
The hound gazes up at me through puppy dog eyes but makes no move toward the exit. I take that as a reluctant apology.
“Alright then,” I say. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”
He walks at my side, his gaze fixed on my face. He’s either scrutinizing my mood or wondering why I’m covered in this thick, glistening liquid.
I push the bathroom door open. “Yeah, I know I look strange.”
The hound steps inside and barks a question.
“There’s this guy,” I say. “Actually, he’s a monster.”
He lowers himself onto his haunches the way children do when listening to a story.
My gaze darts to the tall window, where the Boogie Man stood earlier in the morning. My heart sinks a little when I find that patch of the garden empty.
There’s no sign of him. Not even in the distant trees. Not even in the sky.
What did I expect when he now has what he wanted? I won’t see the winged bastard until the next time he’s horny and needs to cum.
With a sigh, I peel off my dress and toss it in the laundry basket.
The hound barks at me to continue my story.
“Maybe he isn’t a monster,” I mutter. “He’s the husband of our coven’s founder and was supposed to have died in the twelfth century but something happened to keep him alive.”
He cocks his head.
“Yeah, I know it’s strange, but he must have gained Unseelie powers because he’s invisible to everyone except me.” My throat thickens. “And Norbert, who he murdered.”
The hound whines.
“Don’t worry.” I run my fingers through his damp fur. “The Boogie Man won’t hurt you. I’ll protect you with my life.”
He shakes his head, his deep-green eyes hardening with offense.
“You’ll protect me?”