“Your house?”

The narrow hallway seemed even smaller now that Itarus was standing here.

I gaped at him. “What do you mean your house? I was assigned to The Cottage.”

He stood silent, both hands in his pockets. Clear blue clashed against burnt copper, as we stared each other down, neither of us wanting to back down.

He let out a soft snarl, breaking eye contact first. “The old man… I knew he was planning something.” He sighed through that perfect nose and loosened his tie with one hand.

He closed the distance between us, his long legs gobbling up the short walk and all I could do was clutch the door frame harder. I wanted to run, I hated feeling like prey but when it came to Itarus…

He stopped, leaving only a hairsbreadth of space between us as he lowered his face to mine.

“Listen up,” he pressed a cool finger to my forehead and pushed it back. If I wasn’t gripping the doorway I would’ve fell backwards.

His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t realized his strength. “Sorry," he rasped and for the first time I saw that cool demeanor slip into something real... something human. "I-I didn’t mean to push that hard." He took a step back as if the distance could keep me safe. "I forget how fragile you mortals are.” And just as quick as it had left, that posture of cool indifference was back.

What...what kind of lame ass apology was that?

He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, it seems like the old man schemed us into this,” he motioned to his room and then to my room, “and until I figure out just what the hell is going on I suggest you live like a mouse. Quiet and out of my sight.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked.

Jerk.

“Why should I?” I tipped my head upwards, making my gaze as insolent as I could.

“What?” the word grumbled out of his throat.

“Why. Should. I?” I bit off each word, the fear leaching away into anger. Who did this prick think he was telling me to live like a mouse.

His gaze crushed me, those eyes of the summer sea turning into an unforgiving winter. The air around me even seemed to drop a couple of degrees.

“You must not want to live a long life.” He snarled softly.

I snorted, throwing him an equally icy glare. “Yeah, maybe not if that means having to live longer with you. Trust me, I don’t enjoy having to share the same space as you either."

Itarus smirked. “Oh really?” He inched closer and my feet moved back out of survival. Our dance at the engagement party came to mind, being pressed flushed against him and I didn’t want another recreation of that night right now.

“Is that why your heart sounds like it’s going to burst out of your chest every time I come near?”

I scrambled for words. “That’s because…it’s not you okay. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Right,” he drawled, arching an eyebrow up. He stopped his advance and clicked his tongue instead.

“Did you have dinner?”

“What?”

What was this sudden change in conversation?

“I said- Did you have dinner?” he drew out the words, slower than necessary.

I fought back the urge to roll my eyes.

“No… I slept through it,” I admitted, and he took in my sleep tousled hair and rumpled clothes with a look of disdain.

“You look like hell,” he quipped, and I did roll my eyes at him.

“There’s dinner downstairs. Go eat.” A soft, quiet command.

Just when I thought I was getting a handle on the jerk, he goes and says something like this.

Was this him trying to be nice? But then I wondered, why did it feel like I was a sheep being fattened before slaughter?

I narrowed my eyes at him, and the suspicion must’ve shown because he grumbled, “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it or anything. The last thing I need is a dead fiance."

I made a noise of annoyance with my throat and sidestepped him to get downstairs. It wasn’t worth it to bother with him when there was food waiting for me.

I didn’t look back as I walked down the stairs.