Page 20 of Scaled Hearts

“N-no,” she stumbles over her words, shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her. “No, it’s fine, I can...I can still handle it.” She can’t tear her gaze from me and I find myself pleased by this.

I shouldn’t care what she thinks of me. She’s going to be my mate whether she wants it or not. Still. Something about her makes me feel for her. Iwanther to like me. It irks at me that I feel this way so I dismiss my thoughts and instead, I bring my hands together, murmuring an incantation.

Instantly, the ashes around us form themselves back into bones, stitching themselves back together into skeletal forms, then taking on a ghostly appearance.

“O’ servants, arise!” I command them and they follow my orders, beginning to shuffle about to start tidying up my cave. Might as well make my mate comfortable.

A few also start cleaning the table, wiping it down and setting it up for dinner with flatware and plates. The plates are made of bronze, with etched designs, inlaid with red rubals. The flatware is silver, crafted with ornate swirls on the ends. It came from a band of travelers who hoped to loot my cave for more riches.

I glance back to see Kelly backing up into a corner as the servants work. “Are you frightened?” I tilt my head.

“Are they going to harm us?”

“No. Those who were foolish enough to attempt to steal from my horde have been burned for their crimes. They are now forced to serve me for all eternity, at my command.”

Kelly lets out a little shudder and wraps her arms around herself. “I see.”

The servants work methodically as I watch, amused at their efficiency. Thieves make the best servants. Especially dead ones.

I clap my hands and one of them goes over to a large crate, digging through and producing a few garments. Kelly is busy watching one who is tidying the coins into stacks and when the ghostly servant approaches, she lets out a scream of fright. My heart leaps into my chest at her scream.

Don’t be foolish. She’s just jumpy. Your servants won’t hurt her, I remind myself. The ghostly apparition holds out an elegant, sage green dress to her. She looks it over, glancing at me.

“It’s for you,” I offer. “You look cold.”

She stares at me for several beats and then takes the dress, slipping it on over her body. I briefly mourn the loss of her naked figure but she looks just as good in the dress as she does without clothing.

The dress has long, belled sleeves and a low neckline. It covers her breasts but shows just enough to titillate me. The stiff material of the top cups each mound and wraps around her waist in a corset style. It flows out from around her waist, down to her feet. The material is covered in tiny, intricately embroidered flowers in white, yellow and soft pink. It’s a bit of an older style, from a few decades back but she still looks stunning in it.

I don’t know if I want to keep it on her or rip it off and take her right here and now. I can’t tear my eyes away

. Instead of lingering, I turn away, watching my servants bring me a pair of tight-fitting trousers and a flowing robe, both in black. I leave the robe open to expose the fine hairs of my chest.

I’m then draped in several black and gold chains and a crown of black gold—with green zanthenite that matches my mate’s ring—is placed on my head.

I am the master of my domain and this makes me look even more imposing. I hold myself up, showing Kelly my final look.

“What do you think?” I ask, turning in a circle.

I can see the way her pupils dilate as she looks at me, I notice the flush on her cheeks and the rise and fall of her breasts, the deep breath she takes.

“You look fine,” she says, turning away from me to study a painting that one of the servants was in the process of hanging.

“You will address me properly,” I say, voice low. “I am your mate!” I clench my fists, my ire rising. She needs to learn her place; she needs to pay me the respect I deserve.

I saved her from her pathetic life, offered her a way to help her sister and a lifetime of wealth and comfort. The least she could do is show her gratitude!

“Of course, Master,” she says, drawling the word out and curtsying with an exaggerated flounce in her skirts. I roll my eyes.

“Just Angurus,” I inform her. She doesn’t need to act high and mighty with me but I don’t like her sarcasm either.

“Of course, Angurus,” she amends. Her teeth may be clenched, her posture stiff but I find that I like the way she says my name. It almost sounds like a purr, coming from her. I fight the urge to bend her over the table right here and now and take her from behind.

“Careful,” I warn her. “You might not like what I do if you keep up with your attitude.” I don’t need her to know that I desire her more with each snappy comeback. I want to put her in her place, remind her of who she belongs to.

She shuts up, crossing her arms. Her frown displeases me so I turn my attention to the table. It’s empty, which simply won’t do. I press my palms together, summoning my magic.

The table fills dish by dish with soups, meats, breads, sweets and puddings. I also conjure a bottle of wine, along with two goblets full at each of our place settings. Kelly eyes the table, eyes wide.

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