“No one important,” Ethan said airily. Which summed up pretty much everyone in existence, in Faerie and the Mortal Realm. Ethan didn’t have family, he didn’t really have friends, except one or two bizarre pseudo-friendships. So to him, no one was important. Certainly not prey. Prey was only worth death and pain. There for his amusement and to satisfy his hunger.
A deadly snarl issues from low in his chest as Rowan invaded his personal space. That was something Ethan despised. Oh, he would crowd right into another person’s space, but to do the same to him? It was one way to rile the wolf.
And so the hand not holding Rowan’s wrist came up and cracked across the pooka’s face, smacking his cheek and catching his nose to make it bleed. “Now someone’s bleeding,” he said with an animalistic laugh, and he licked the tiny trail of blood from the palm of his hand.