Red's Demise

Confusing Males

Red

The cold floors of the Manor were silent under my bare feet. The massive house was somehow silent despite the many sleeping bodies in it. MK crept beside me, his predatory eyes scanning every dark corner and empty hallway.

Dread followed me up the stairs with every step I took. I had been all too comfortable in Ivar's stall. The only problem was that I don't remember how I had ended up down there.

A couple of hours ago, I was drinking in the tavern while watching the local harlots debate whether it was worth the risk to pet MK or not. I got too comfortable, apparently, as I woke up in Ivar's stall with a pounding headache and the urgent need to empty my stomach.

MK seemed less than pleased about sleeping in the barn and so despite Ivar's vehement protest, I peeled myself from the hay-covered floor and made my journey back to my room.

It was clear why my inner alarm bells had been going off as I finally made it to the top floor of the manor.

"And where have you been all night," Ezekiel stood, with his arms crossed, outside of his office.

MK gave the grumpy male a mix between a growl and huff. To which said grumpy male didn't even bother to acknowledge. His green eyes remained zeroed in on me.

His nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed even more on me. Did he just smell me?

"You reek of ale," he scowled at my disheveled appearance.

I truly must've been a sight. My loose-fitting tan pants were covered with straw. One pant leg was tucked into my shin-high boot, while the other covered the other boot. My loose-fitting grey blouse was half-tucked half-hanging over my pants.

If my outfit hadn't made it apparent, I was off-duty tonight. So I chose to spend some coins at the tavern in my most comfortable clothing. Though the clothing definitely would've only gotten in the way, had I been ambushed, I trusted that MK could've handled whatever was thrown our way.

So unlike my usual attire, I let loose. Which I had, admittedly, been doing quite often this past month. Though my usual fears and worries about relaxing were less prevalent with MK around.

The predator never left my side and was always prepared. I found it comforting. To which, I will forever be grateful to the feline... Or male... Or whatever the damn thing is.

"I'm beginning to worry that your abilities are beginning to decline with the lack of work I'm giving you," Ezekiel pondered out loud, though his roving eyes remained on me.

I felt a challenge bubbling in my chest, though a sneaking thought reminded me that that is what he would want. To counter him. To curse him. To challenge him.

The comment was easy to roll off before I gave him a disinterested look as if to say are you done?

I tried to steady myself as we had a stare-off, but it was evident that the ale from earlier still kept a firm grip on my body as I swayed slightly.

His green eyes didn't miss that either. And I suppose it was because of my disheveled state that he backed down. Though I know he would never admit it.

"Clean yourself up. Physically and mentally. Can't have people thinking that the Royal Assassin is as unhinged as rumor says."

His words were harsh.

And had they come from anybody else, I would've slit their throat.

However, through the liberty of whatever confusing-fucking-relationship we shared, he was entitled to call me out.