80. Angélique
80
Angélique
W hen I wake up, I’m surrounded by comfortable warmth. Elhyor is wrapped around me as if he’s scared I could run away.
I’ve thought about it a few times to be honest—running away, I mean—since we got married, but every time something has been holding me back. It was his support against my father, the help he was willing to give to save Léandre without asking any questions, the fact we’re still trying to find Brice because of all of that, and yet he hasn’t even made Léandre feel like any of this was his fault. Plus, it’s the way he acts with me every day.
I know that he cares. I know that he wants to help and support me, but he knows I won’t bend—or maybe only over his desk—and that I’m a fighter. He doesn’t ask that I stay inside the archives with Cassiopé, where I would be safe. He let me be there in Versailles. He’s letting me help with the warriors’ training.
To him, I’m not just a weapon and it feels good.
It doesn’t hurt that I see stars when we have sex, either.
I kiss the hand that is currently holding my shoulder and slowly untangle myself from his embrace.
It feels good, but I can’t forget that a few hours ago, I was sweating like a pig on his desk and that there is only so much one can do with a washcloth.
I need a shower, one that is as warm as the embrace I just left, but that will also soothe my aching muscles.
I should be used to being sore with the amount of work out I’m used to doing, but no, it feels like I’m discovering new muscles each time I let Elhyor play with me.
I turn on the shower, slip out of Elhyor’s sweater before hiding it on the side, and then I slip under the warm water.
It doesn’t take long before the arms that were wrapped around me in bed do the same under the shower.
He doesn’t try anything else, though. He only grabs the shower gel and lathers me with it slowly. He takes his time like it’s something normal, and I can’t help the feeling that it would be nice to wake up every day this way.
Even if we actually only woke up from a nap and my belly is already crying for dinner.
Once we’re both showered and dressed again, he grabs my hand and pulls me after him. So, we go to the kitchen.
He bypasses everyone, and we end up inside the kitchen.
It’s a far cry from the last time we were there together.
First, this time we’re not alone, and even if everyone seems to have gotten used to the fact that I married Elhyor, there is no way to hide that some of his people still aren’t completely on board with our wedding.
I can see the sneer or the side glances in the kitchen, even if Elhyor doesn’t seem to see them or care about them at all.
The second thing that’s different is that Elhyor doesn’t seem to want to give up on my hand.
The last thing is the fact—and I’m a bit disappointed about that one—that I highly doubt Elhyor is about to cook for me this time. The cooks are here, and I don’t think they would take too well with him meddling with their pans and pots while they’re still using them.
They’re almost done though, so… maybe I could ask?
Or maybe not, seeing as the oldest lady in the kitchen seems to be the one looking at me with the darkest eyes.
I shouldn’t have worried though because he just brings me to the door of the freezer and pulls two boxes with his name on it.
Does he get preferential treatment—meals—because he’s the boss here?
I want to ask all of that, but as fast as Elhyor pulled me here, he pulls me after him in another corner where I can see there are a few of those fancy multitask cookers. He opens the door of one, stuff the two boxes there and presses on ten before closing the door.
I realize ten wasn’t the time but the kind of program when steam starts to be visible inside the cooker and there is a beep only a couple seconds after.
Elhyor gets the boxes out of the cooker, and still without a word, walks me out of the kitchen.
There are almost fewer people in the cafeteria than inside the kitchen, so Elhyor doesn’t have to look for an empty table for long and only then does he release my hand.
He opens the boxes, and delicious steam evaporates from the boxes.
Inside, there’s something I’ve never seen. Two white buns are in each of the boxes, and the scent is divine. From what I can smell, they’re probably stuffed with some meat and spices because it perfumes the air already and we still haven’t broken them.
Elhyor does just that with one, and inside it looks like caramelized meat. I’m salivating at the sight and grab one for myself, only to backtrack when I touch the bun because I burned my fingers.
“Damn it!”
Why didn’t I think it could be hot? It is steaming hot, after all, but I trusted the fact that Elhyor had grabbed it without trouble, but the man is a freaking dragon. He can’t be burned with fire, of course, he’s not going to get burned with a bun.
“Careful, Little Devil,” Elhyor says. “I rather like those hands.”
He winks before catching my arm above my wrist, palm up.
“At least, it’ll be useful for something,” he adds as he looks at the reddened skin of my hand.
“I don’t see how, me, burning myself could be useful,” I say with a pout. I know I’m being difficult, but I’m still a bit sleepy and the dark looks in the kitchen kinda made me grumpy, too.
Elhyor seems amused at my antics, but still he keeps my hand over the table between us and very seriously he tells me, “Shift your hand.”
What?
But I don’t even know how I managed to shift the last time when I got down from the top of Notre Dame. How the fuck does he expect me to shift just my hand?
He seems to see the panic in my eyes and his thumb starts moving from side to side on my forearm in a soothing way.
“Breathe, Little Devil, you can do it. I’m going to be with you all along.”
“But here Elhyor? Really?” I ask, taken aback. I’m sure my panic sneaks into my words.
It’s not that I don’t want to try, but with my luck I’m gonna shift and end up with my own two feet in the delicious-looking buns.
“It’s as good as anywhere else,” he says with a shrug.
”But I’ve never willingly shifted,” I whisper-shout at him. I don’t want anyone to hear me. Since the event on le parvis, they all think I’m badass, but somehow I don’t think anyone would think the same if they knew I don’t know how to shift.
“You still haven’t tried to shift on your own?” Elhyor asks.
Somehow I was expecting him to be surprised, maybe disappointed, but the only thing I see in his eyes is understanding, and I feel like I don’t deserve that man.
I could have tried to shift on my own if I’m a bit honest with myself, I could have found time between the training with the warriors and the time in the archives, but I’ve been too much of a coward and that’s all on me.
Elhyor’s stares at me for a while and I don’t really know what he is thinking right now so I wait.
“Eat first, it should be at a normal temperature now, but after that we’re going in the gardens and you’ll learn how to shift,” he says when he finally talks again, “and tomorrow morning we’re going to start shifting training.”
I’m about to argue, but he stops me.
“They’ve been training without you before you arrived; they’re going to manage if you’re not there a couple hours every day.”