11. Evelyn
11
Evelyn
“ O kay,” I said, tying an apron around my waist and taking charge. “We’re not summoning demons or battling Eris today—just dinner. How hard can it be?”
Chad raised his hand like a kid in class. “Define ‘dinner.’ Because if sandwiches count, I’m your guy.”
Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “This was a mistake.”
“It’s not a mistake,” I said, handing him a cutting board and a chef’s knife. “It’s a fun family bonding activity, and Mrs. Cook needed the night off. Chop chop, Professor.”
Lucien grumbled under his breath about being the only competent cook and how he should be running the whole operation, but he still took the knife and started chopping onions.
“Rafe,” I continued, pointing to the stove. “You’re on pasta duty. Just boil water and—”
“Boiling water?” Chad whined. “You’re giving him the easiest job. Are you playing favorites?”
“Of course not, puppy.” I ruffled his hair.
Rafe shrugged, his wings flicking slightly. “I’m fine with boiling water. It sounds…peaceful.”
“I’ll handle the meat. At least I know how to use fire,” Ryker said.
“Great,” I said, suppressing a laugh. “Just to be clear, you’ll use the stove, correct?”
Ryker’s lips quirked into a grin. “The grill, actually. I’ll make steaks.” His gaze lingered on me a moment too long before he finally turned toward the barbecue outside.
Chad whooped. “Now you’re talking. Steak and pasta.”
“And what about me?” Alister asked, crossing his arms.
“You’re on the sauce,” I said, handing him a wooden spoon. “You’ve lived for centuries. Surely, you’ve picked up a recipe or two.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Those skills didn’t extend to marinara.”
“Just let the creative juices flow, then,” I smirked.
“I must say, this is rather…plebeian,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll survive, Your Highness.”
When I returned from setting the table, the kitchen had quickly devolved into organized chaos. Rafe kept an eye on the pasta; his brow furrowed in intense concentration. Chad had appointed himself “supervisor”—which mostly involved standing around and making unhelpful commentary.
From outside, a thick cloud of smoke billowed past the window, accompanied by Ryker’s creative string of curses.
“Since you’re not doing anything,” Alister told Chad as he took the onions, garlic, and tomatoes Lucien had chopped and transferred them to his pan. “Why don’t you grab a bottle of wine from the cellar for us? It’s quite far, and I’ve already made my ten thousand steps today.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Chad said as he disappeared.
Lucien, meanwhile, had become unreasonably competitive with the rest of the vegetables. His chopping was so fast that it sounded like a drum roll.
“Are you…angry at the carrots?” I asked, leaning over his shoulder.
“They’re crooked,” he replied flatly.
I bit back a laugh. “They’re carrots, Lucien. They don’t need to be symmetrical.”
“They do if I’m cutting them.”
“Perfectionist,” I muttered, shaking my head fondly.
“I still don’t understand why we’re adding carrots. And our timing is all off. The pasta is practically cooked, and I’m still chopping,” he grumbled.
“Who cares? We’re all having fun. Right guys?”
The response was a little underwhelming.
Luckily, Chad was back with the bottle of wine.
“Oh, Chad, that’s white. We need red. Far-right, top shelf,” Alister told Chad.
“Sure thing,” Chad replied as he disappeared once more.
At some point, Alister abandoned the spoon and pulled me over to the stove. “Taste this,” he said, holding up the sauce-covered spoon. His other hand lightly brushed my waist as he waited for my verdict.
“It’s good,” I said. “Maybe just a pinch more salt.”
He nodded before scurrying away to look for salt.
As on cue, Chad swooped in, the red bottle of wine in hand, wrapping an arm around me and leaning closer.
“Hold on,” he said with a wicked grin. “Looks like you missed a spot.” Without hesitation, he gave my cheek a playful lick.
“Chad! Gross!” I teased, laughing as I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
“Just making sure I got all the sauce,” he said, straightening up and giving Alister a cheeky look. “And yeah, it’s definitely missing something, Your Highness.”
Alister rolled his eyes. “I’d say dignity, but that’s been long gone where you’re concerned.”
Chad winked. “I live to serve.”
Nearby, Rafe bumped my elbow gently, his eyes soft as he handed me a strand of spaghetti. “Try this. Is it ‘al dente’?”
I took a bite and nodded. “Perfect.”
“Oh no, Chad,” Alister sighed, inspecting the label. “Your other right.”
“Seriously?!” Chad whined. “This is the last time I’m going!” He stormed off again.
“I’m finally done with the carrots,” Lucien announced, setting his knife down with the precision of someone who had just conquered a great battle.
I glanced at the sauce and then at the pile of perfectly chopped carrots. “Hmm, the sauce is…kinda ready, but just toss them in. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Lucien froze, staring at me like I had suggested setting the kitchen on fire. “You want me to add raw carrots to the sauce?”
I shrugged. “They’ll soften. Probably.”
Lucien muttered something about culinary sacrilege but reluctantly dumped the carrots in, stirring with deep disapproval.
Just then, Ryker reappeared from outside, carrying a large platter stacked with what looked like medium rare steaks, sliced into smaller pieces. Alister rushed to it and stole a couple of pieces off the platter.
“If you eat one more bite, I’ll roast you,” Ryker warned, narrowing his eyes.
Alister shrugged, utterly unbothered. “This constitution requires replenishment,” he said smoothly. “Consider it quality control.”
Before Ryker could lunge at him, Chad stumbled back into the kitchen, slightly out of breath, with yet another red bottle of wine in hand.
Alister took the bottle, inspected the label, then grimaced. His gaze lifted to Chad. “It’ll do…I guess.”
By some miracle, we managed to pull together a decent dinner. The table was set, the food was plated, and everyone sat down with relief.
“Well,” I said, raising my glass of wine. “We didn’t burn the mansion down, and no one got roasted. I call that a win.”
“To teamwork,” Rafe said, lifting his glass.
“To never doing this again,” Lucien muttered, though his lips twitched with amusement.
Chad took a bite and made a face. “Why are the carrots so crunchy?”