Re: Holding Pens: Stiles
Derek watched as the boy glared daggers, then moved away, as far from Derek as possible.
That was human gratitude, he supposed, wryly.
"You're welcome," he muttered, dryly, and with a longsuffering sigh, turned away, heading out of the holding pens and back to the main house where he would pay for an ungrateful, untrained slave which was basically the opposite of what Laura had sent him to acquire.