Chapter 20 Prince Sloth #2
She hopped off the bed and crossed the room to accept the plate and peered into the dishes I’d uncovered.
Stewed meat, fried potatoes, some vegetable mash laden with butter, dinner rolls, sautéed greens with almonds, and dessert.
“Chocolate cake? Bless you, Wicked thing.”
I watched in bemused silence as she grabbed the dessert first and tossed a few other dinner items onto a smaller dish.
Her priorities were horridly skewed yet somehow endearing.
Once we’d piled our plates high, we sat cross-legged on the floor and placed our meals haphazardly before us.
She practically bounced in place.
“Are you about to combust?”
“Maybe. How many people get to say they’ve had a pirate picnic? This is much more fun than our last meal together at the inn. Mental shield building was interesting, but it doesn’t really stand up to this.”
I snorted. I’d never met someone who could find thrills and adventure simply by eating on the floor of an old ship.
She made the mundane magic.
“If we survive, we’ll send letters to all your fictional friends to share the news.”
“Even Logan Blaze?”
She was baiting me, and even being fully aware, I still glowered.
Cursed dragon shifter and his dimples.
“Only if I get to deliver it personally to him.”
“Mm.”
Her mouth curved in wicked delight. Point one to Lore.
Outside, the storm that had been threatening finally howled, and the ship rocked with the rhythm of the waves, making our little dining area feel like a teetering stage. At least neither of us appeared to be seasick.
A hint of laughter danced in her expression as I tried to skewer a runaway potato that rolled dangerously close to the plate’s rim.
I swore and stabbed down, finally spearing the cursed thing.
I shifted my gaze to her, one brow arching in playful challenge.
“Something amusing, Peaches?”
“Not in the slightest.”
My magic clicked with the lie.
Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she eagerly dug into the rich, velvety slice of chocolate cake before her, leaving her dinner untouched.
I was glad the food and her “pirate picnic” brought her a bit of happiness. She needed to maintain that lightheartedness, or the dark book would eventually obliterate all that was good in her.
A flash of my nightmares crossed my mind.
Lore’s eyes pitch black, the realms burning…
Worry dug its claws into me. While we’d received some news of the Liber Noctem in the last story, this one had no new leads.
I loathed sitting still and waiting for it to come hunting us.
Xavier was not on the ship, and I felt trapped here. An overwhelming sense of claustrophobia rose inside me, one I’d never felt before in my existence.
I needed to—
“Oh, my gods.” She took another bite and danced in place. “This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
The room suddenly felt stuffy.
I tugged at the collar of my shirt, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to my skin. As a Prince of Sin, I wasn’t prone to illness, but I almost swore I was feverish.
Lore took another bite and moaned.
I flicked my gaze toward the window. Its panes were sealed tight.
I released a sigh. I’d need to endure the stifling warmth that seemed to intensify with every passing moment.
I shifted my attention back to my own meal, analyzing the same worries I continued to cycle through from earlier, when Lore released another sound of pleasure.
I stared as she licked the frosting from her fork, her eyes closed in rapture.
Cake was certainly good, but I’d never had something that good.
I forced myself to slice into the meat, ignoring the show. I turned my attention inward, still mulling over the tattoo.
If the Liber Noctem—
“Mm. Gods. It’s so good.”
Lore tossed her head back and seemed to have an out-of-body experience.
Whatever I’d been mentally sorting through vanished as my focus zeroed in on the dreamweaver.
My attention skimmed down the long line of her neck, arched elegantly. The position made my mind spin with other scenarios, far less innocent in nature.
I had no business looking at her, but every time she made that cursed sound, it did something to my pulse.
I imagined an ice bath, a frozen lake, a room with no windows.
Lore scooped another bit of cake onto her fork, and the way she licked the frosting shattered my control.
Her attention flicked to mine as she repeated the motion.
She had my undivided attention.
The air around us seemed to thicken, becoming almost tangible.
I breathed in deeply to steady my pulse, and the aroma of cocoa and sugar that enveloped the room added to the already intoxicating atmosphere.
My blood heated as she moaned again, louder this time.
The crew would think all sorts of lurid things were happening in here if she kept that up.
I’d have to ensure she had baked goods when she returned home. Though I’d need to have her house soundproofed first.
“I had no idea I’d be having dinner and a show.”
She rolled her eyes but kept the charade up.
It wasn’t my finest attempt to lead us away from dangerous waters, and Lore seemed only too pleased that she’d distracted me so thoroughly.
“Don’t be boring, Your Highness.”
I raised a brow as she dug into the rich chocolate cake with abandon.
She took another bite, slowly savoring the creamy frosting and moist layers before letting out another soft groan of pleasure.
It took me far too long to realize she was doing it to distract me from my darkening thoughts.
And I’d only just caught onto her little game.
“Here.” She scooped up a generous portion with her fork and held it out to me, chocolate smudging her fingertips. “Taste this.”
Her gaze sparkled with impish challenge, daring me to break my rigid nature for once. I might be analytical, but I was far from boring.
I leaned forward, accepting the offered bit of cake as she watched, a mischievous smile playing across her lips.
The cake melted on my tongue, decadently sweet and utterly delicious.
It really was damn good.
“Was that an actual groan of pleasure, Lord Stoic?” she teased. “Should we throw a party and invite all one of your friends to celebrate?”
“Bold of you to assume I have any friends.”
She barked a laugh, then clapped a hand over her mouth and snorted. The sound was filled with unmitigated joy, and I couldn’t help but laugh too.
I leaned in closer, feeling the warmth radiating from her as I gently swiped my thumb across her soft, inviting lower lip.
Her breath caught in her throat, the sound a subtle gasp of surprise mixed with anticipation as her gaze cut to my mouth and lingered.
With a wicked smile of my own, I revealed the smudge of rich, dark chocolate I’d stolen from her lips, holding it up for her to see before slowly sucking it off my finger, savoring the sweet taste that lingered there.
She tracked the movements intently, her throat visibly moving with each swallow, clearly caught off guard by my unexpected response.
She wasn’t the only one who could employ distraction tactics.
“Well?” She finally managed to wrench her attention back up to my eyes. “What do you think? Is it the most delicious cake you’ve ever had?”
“It tastes divine, but I prefer peaches.”
A hint of pink crept into her cheeks as I watched her struggle to regain her composure. A wave of satisfaction surged through me with her flustered reaction.
She’d started this, and—while she’d bested me for a while before I’d caught on—I’d finally matched her wit for wit.
Just when I thought I’d won… whatever this game was, she swiped a bit of frosting off the cake, then planted a dollop on my lips.
With lightning-fast reflexes, I held on to her wrist and licked the rest of the frosting off her fingertips. Her breathing turned short and ragged.
She was right where I wanted her.
We should focus on the practical issues we faced, but I found my gaze drifting to the mashed vegetables on my plate.
Before I could think twice, I scooped up a spoonful and launched it across the short distance between us.
She let out a high-pitched squeal, instinctively ducking, but not fast enough—the greenish mush splattered against her cheek.
A thick glob clung to her skin before slowly sliding down, leaving a trail on the front of her dress. “Ugh!”
I pointed my spoon at her in challenge.
“If we’re going to play this imprudent game, I promise you, I will win.”
She gave me an exasperated look.
“Only you would sneak imprudent into the same sentence as game,” she quipped, then jumped to her feet and returned fire.
A buttered roll hit me in the chest and slid down my fighting leathers. I stared at the greasy streak and slowly lifted my gaze to the beaming woman before me.
“This means war, dreamweaver.”
Before I could get to my own feet, Lore lobbed an herbed potato at me.
I swore roundly as she raced across the room and dove behind the bed, taking cover.
I was a patient male. The moment she popped her head up, I slung another spoonful of mash at her, the hit landing directly on her other cheek. She was a formidable opponent. I dodged around the desk, mindful of the treasure chest, and took another hit.
Soon we were both covered in mashed vegetables, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d had half as much fun.
Hours after our food fight, after we’d cleaned up and practiced Lore’s magic and tried to figure out what this test could be, she’d fallen into a deep sleep.
She curled up on her side on the large bed, her dark hair spilling over the pillow. One arm was folded beneath her cheek as she slept.
Her chest rose and fell with each gentle breath.
She looked so peaceful, so free of the worry we’d felt earlier today.
I didn’t usually wish for things, finding it foolish and not practical, but I found myself hoping it wouldn’t be the last time she’d look so at ease.
I took the soft comforter from the end of the bed and draped it over her, feeling an odd tug in my chest.
There was no use in denying that her presence was magnetic, not just to the first mate of this ship. It also drew me in with an inexplicable pull.