The Hunters

Chapter 13 part 1

I force myself not to smirk. Good lord. "How old is an adult werewolf thereabouts?"

"Technically? About 50, give or take. Dog years don't really apply to us since we live for ages."

My mouth falls open. If this is true, I am talking to what is basically an overgrown child.

That explains a hell of a lot.

"So you're like a werewolf puppy then?"

His smile turns sour, almost like a pout. "No."

"But you're quite a way off being an adult. Which must mean that technically you're a puppy," I say, genuinely curious. Does his vampire side mean that he's an adult earlier than a wolf?

He crosses his arms stubbornly over his chest, sulking at me. "You don't know anything."

Nevermind. He's definitely a child.

At just that moment, the bathroom door cracks open, revealing the royal pain in the arse peering through the gap. When he sees me, he sends me a sheepish grin. "You calm yet?"

My lips press together. "Why are you such a prat?"

The comment causes him to scowl unattractively as he steps out from behind the door. "I'll forgive you for throwing a vase at me since you were clearly stressed, but now that you know who and what I am, you should have figured out that you can't address me like that," he explains patronisingly. Smirking, he steps around me, but not before I grab his arm.

"I'm sorry, allow me to try something more fitting. I believe that that may have been inappropriate of me," I smile, hand on heart, feigning innocence.

"Of course," he smiles proudly, waiting.

I bow down, grinning. "Your royal Highness," his smirk grows as I rise.

"Why are you such a prat?"

I shut the door in his scowling face, leaving him with Kellen, who is now cackling indiscreetly.

What a tosser.

*****

"You, my friend, have a death wish," Becca huffs, stirring a pot of soup on a small stove.

"That's nothing. Just wait till he goes to sleep later. I'll get my payback."

She turns to me, eyes wide. Although the expression strikes me as far from fearful. "Ria, you can't! He's a prince, remember!"

"Yeah. And?"

She sighs. "You just need to be careful. You can't predict how he will react. He needs to be respected, you know."

Rolling my eyes, I stare at my nails. What gives him the right to drench me if I can't do the same back?

"She's not wrong, Ria," Alec steps through the doorway, clearly having tuned in to the conversation. "You haven't even seen him at his worst. And with the way you two talk, I'd say that was a miracle and a half."

"Oh yeah? He's an elf, for God's sake! What's he gonna do? Put me on the naughty list?"

Alec snorted loudly, covering his mouth to hide his grin. His sister, however, was not so impressed, wearing a look of displeasure. Lips pressed together, she shook her head. "You really need to start taking this situation more seriously. You're sister is missing! You can't keep hiding behind sarcasm. Especially when it involves someone like him."

My brows furrow. It's not the first time I've made jokes about him and as far as I could tell she's never had a problem with it before. Why the sudden change? I stare at her, dumbfounded as she turns back to the pot, stirring it with a newfound vigour. Alec must be thinking the same as I am; his eyes burn holes into her back. He noticed my gaze on him, shrugging in response to my unspoken question.