Densel looked at her for a long time, a silence between them as he thought about the question.
Angel?
He?
How could anyone think so ludicrously of him? He was a Hellhound, and not only that.. He was a Shadow Hound. To him and no doubt to all the packs of the other 27 races in Tartarus and Hellion, his kind was not only the most lethal, but the most cruel.
Taeros. The very mention of his name was enough to bring most to their senses. Densel remembered walking the streets with women taking their children and literally fleeing. Men spat at him as though they were fearless, but a glance in their direction was all it took to make them leave.
She called him an angel.
It was so foolish.
So innocent.
So kind.
He waited till she spoke again the second time to answer the question she had asked before. No doubt had he delayed, she would have expected him not to answer.
"I'm a Hound, Princess." He said, wondering if she would seriously request he let her go at that. "Taeros didn't tell you anything? Seriously?" He lowered his eyes and muttered under his breath. "If I decide ever to hunt someone, I make Hannibal Lector look like a baby."
As he draped his jacket around her, he realized another truth- Never before had he had the chance to touch a lady like this. By human years, he appeared in his early twenties. But because he had been brought up by his pack, they had given him their trademark Taeros piercing, which even in his dreams haunted him with a sharp glimmer on his ear. Because of it, no decent women had ever come to him.
Assassins, yes.
Hunters, yes.
Pack negotiators, hell yes.
Whores, aplenty.
But women like Relia? Petite and gentle Relia, innocence abundant?
Hell NO.
He looked at her hand and almost took it in his absence of mind.
He shook himself internally.
"No, Princess." He said, and he licked the back of his teeth with his tongue, feeling the shapeliness of his canines. "I cannot go anywhere with you." He had to stand. He hadn't wanted to give himself such delusions.
For a moment there, it had seemed like there was a chance, a faint possibility..
No.
He would wake up and this would all be over. He couldn't risk anything. Not even the unknown. He was reckless and known to take risks, but not to such an alarming extent. He wouldn't open himself to her. He couldn't.
"I can't." He said to her. The words were final, they were firm and stern.
They were cold as hell and he felt it in his own bones.
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