Chapter 14 #2
His whole mate thing had cinched us closer than ever and I had more and more trouble hiding from him.
I shook with the longing not to hide, even while I feared his reaction.
This morning wasn't the worst my illness continually swung at me, but it was more than anyone had ever seen.
I searched his face for horror, anger, or worse–pity.
“Sorry.”
He quirked up one side of his mouth; the move so familiar it felt like coming home. “For what?”
For the mess I made. For having a body that wouldn't cooperate. For making him clean it all up. For keeping secrets from him.
I settled on an easier truth. “For saying you're too happy all the time.”
That was as close as I would come to addressing my illness without losing him.
If I said it out loud to him, that's all I would become. Wasn’t it proof enough that even after that glorious nap, I still felt like someone had tossed me in a ditch?
I hadn't told Evie and Maggie for the same reason.
As soon as my Aunt found out, I became a burden and she withdrew. I would die if Declan did the same.
“I didn’t know it bothered you.”
My heart broke a little as pain pulsed in my left hand, my knee. “It doesn’t. I would have to fight to be that most days. You don’t need someone cranky like me ruining your life.”
Surely, he understood becoming mates was impossible without me having to spell it out. His face sobered into something close to serious but he relaxed his body and I found I didn’t want to move. Now we were definitely talking about being more than friends, even if neither of us would say it.
“I like you the way you are. I wouldn’t have hung around you for so long if I didn’t.”
“That’s not true, Declan. You can be infinitely nice. You mucked out Evie’s horse stalls for an entire month when she was sick, when she could have just gotten a servant to do it.”
The straight lines of his face were dead serious. “What if they didn’t take proper care of Greg?”
“He’s a horse,” I said.
Wait… was I comparing myself to a horse?
“You’re acting like it’s a burden to cherish the things I care about,” his tone grew a touch exasperated. He wouldn’t even get angry about this. My temper boiled at the sun setting.
“It’s just a lot of responsibility when…” What in the seven hells was I trying to say? “...when they…” What was the grossest horse disease I had ever heard a stable boy talk about in the kitchens? “...get rain rot.”
Kill me. I was surely a fucking genius. I needed this conversation to end before it got so far away from me that I said something stupid, like comparing myself to a horse.
Wait. Too late. I was so used to hiding what was wrong with me, I couldn’t even formulate the right words to let anyone in.
The throb of misery across my body wasn’t making it any easier.
Declan pursed his mouth, thinking, as if he was actually treating this like a real conversation. I had to admire the depth of his willingness to believe I was an adult and had my shit together in any way, shape, or form.
He sat up and I slid down again. Right on top of the anaconda I had been promising myself I absolutely would not think about. His eyes glowed softly, scattering shadows about the room.
“I would still ride a horse with rain rot.”
My face combusted and a giggle burst out of me. This was completely absurd. Shoving him back onto the bed, I crawled off him. Stiff, sore, but determined that I would make it to the washroom and ignore the groan I heard from the messy bed.
I took an extra draught of willow bark and that had to be enough to be functional. The family was in the kitchen when I arrived. Anise was nowhere to be seen.
“She’s still at Marco’s,” Eilie supplied when I asked. “We don’t fetch her unless the house is burning.” She squinted at me. “You’re not planning on burning down the house again, are you?”
I had to sit down. The willow bark only got me to the kitchen.
“Don’t pretend you’re not excited to redecorate and claim that room as your own,” Briggs chastised.
“I guess no lessons today,” I said.
Briggs snapped her fingers. “You can make us a Locot cake. Declan will need one for the winner of his little contest.”
Dread filled my belly. I lost all muscle memory for baking after I left my human village.
On purpose. A decent bread was as close to an oven as I had come since then.
I didn’t want to fall back into that expectation because, even though I was good at it, baking wasn’t something I loved.
It was a way for small-minded men to put me in my place.
With pain still edging my vision, I wasn’t sure if my hands would hold a spoon.
“I can’t. I don’t know the recipe.”
The groans around the table hurt more than I would have thought. My hands knotted together. Did I want this motley crew to like me?
“Declan knows it!” Briggs shouted as she dragged him to the table when he walked into the kitchen.
“Declan knows where to get something to eat?” he said good-naturedly, prying himself from his sister’s grip to grab a cup of crocotta.
Briggs badgered him. “Momma taught you how to make Locot cake.”
“Because Declan would eat a whole one himself and she was tired of having to do it again,” Cosomo said.
“I bet Fallon’s will be amazing.” Eilie chimed in. “She probably doesn’t even need your help.”
With that kind of faith, I really didn’t want to disappoint them. A cup of crocotta appeared before me. I wrapped my hands around the vessel, wanting to redeem myself somehow for the pickles, the bread, the snapping at him.
“Maybe you can show me.” That was as close to asking for help as I would come.
He narrowed his eyes at me, always attentive. I didn’t know if I was going to get another lecture about taking a break but he said, “Of course, Honey.”
Declan untangled himself from his siblings long enough to make us brunch while Briggs filled him in on what the patrols had found so far, which was not a whole lot. Apparently, the bacon scent didn't survive entering a portal.
“We’ll find them,” Declan said with absolute assurance.
Declan put his hand on Briggs’ shoulder, and Briggs relaxed. Seeing Declan repeat the motion reminded me of all the times Ward had done the same to him. It was like watching my life in a magic mirror. Nothing quite made sense.
“Now for cake!” Declan exclaimed, and everyone clapped.
Setting out the baking supplies, they were ridiculously simple. First, silk nut flour he let me smell before measuring it into a bowl. He handed it to me to coat the golden berries and pine nuts. I gripped the spoon to fold them and the world wobbled with a spike through my hand.
He dropped the cast-iron pan and rushed to my side. His eyes glowed as he flashed them at his siblings.
“Get out, you heathens. We’ll let you know when cake is ready.”
They listened to him with more speed than I thought possible, slamming the door shut against the cold. I allowed myself a small misery party over the fact that I couldn’t even stir today. This morning had been all about me and I desperately wanted to even the scales.
I had taken Declan for granted when he showed up as a bright spot in every day.
I could admit that I was selfish. His indomitable nature recharged me, despite my freak-out in the pantry.
But this whole affair had me so curious about all the things I had never asked.
The homecoming, the testing looks everyone gave him.
I wanted to know what lay beyond the sunshine he beamed to all of us.
“Thanks for this,” I said.
Sleeves rolled up, hands covered in flour, I forgot whether I was talking about his forearms or the cake he was teaching me.
“It’s a tradition for kids to make this one, so I’m sure you can pick it up without my help. Not that I mind. In your kitchen is always exactly where I want to be.”
My face heated at the mild suggestiveness of his words. Sometimes my brain was a complete slut. Declan’s amused smile didn’t make it any better.
“Teaching kids to bake is a tradition I can get behind. I didn’t know what to expect from Nightfell, but it’s surprisingly lovely.” I wouldn’t exactly say progressive. “And they seem to love you here. I can’t imagine why you ever left.”
He mixed in the water next. “I’m glad you like it. This place sticks to your bones in a good and bad way. But Nightfell needed me to see what the rest of the Harrowlands held.”
I tried to get comfortable and then not to object when he slid a cushion under my wide ass like it was part of the recipe. “What did you find when you traveled out there?”
I couldn’t imagine voluntarily leaving my home for good. The move to Evie’s Keep had been traumatic enough. If it hadn't come with custard toast and a happily ever after, I don’t think I would have made it.
Declan huffed out a breath. “That everywhere I went, there I was. It was good to see more, learn more, do more, but I only answered those questions about myself - myself. It didn’t really matter where I did that.
And this place turned out to be no better or worse than any other territory I visited. ”
That wasn’t true when the last position he ended up in held him captive, but I took his point. There was no slowing down once I left our village and Evie let me cook for her. I put just as much pressure on myself in her kitchen as I had in my bakery.
“Did you find what Nightfell needed?” I asked.
“I think it needed me. Old places are strange like that. Only when you miss them does their magic return.”
“Nightfell does seem like it comes with expectations. Or am I reading it wrong?”
His hunted expression flashed for only a second as he poured the cake mixture into a pan. “What do you mean?”
“Everyone looks at you in a certain way.” Any further description defied me, but it itched my thoughts.
Now his grin was way too wide. He shoved the cake into the oven rather hard. “There were expectations everywhere. The Brothers expected me to be a good guard dog and nothing more.”
Evie told me the Brothers of Zophiel had offered him as a sacrifice to the Queen of Flesh.
And that was terrible, but I noticed he used it to not answer the question.
It took a moment for my brain to catch up, because it was so far-fetched I couldn’t quite believe it, but I thought Declan was keeping something from me.
“If you use a bit of your magic, we can try some before the rest of them get back.”
I wandered over to the oven, rested enough to find a little energy. Using Anise’s lessons, I focused on each ingredient to bake them to perfection in half the time. Pulling apart the pieces was getting much easier.
Declan took it out of the oven and I pronounced it done when a knife went through it cleanly. He cut a big wedge, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. Still, he held it out to me first.
I waved my hands. “Pass. I don't want to try it. I've had hundreds of cakes, thousands.”
He wafted the cake under my nose. “But you haven't had this one.”
“It does smell delicious,” I said, a bit of my own drool sliding out of my mouth.
“Then stop being stubborn and enjoy yourself.”
He popped a hand right on my boob. My mouth dropped open in surprise-o-rage and a slice of heaven slid into it.
My brain couldn't process Declan's broad palm covering my now sensitive nipple or the confection melting in my mouth.
There wasn't much available for him to grab.
Perhaps he was aiming for my ribcage. But, nope, he brushed a thumb directly over my nipple a few times before he dropped his hand.
I staggered back. Finally tasting the cake without my brain scrambling, by the six heavens, it was fantastic.
Unfortunately, his hand on my chest was even sweeter.
How I felt anything through one of my bad days was beyond me. But I started to realize the sparks of lust Declan inexplicably ignited burned hotter because of our friendship. His caring now layered with something I was starting to crave more than that cake.
That he didn’t spill whatever was going on here didn’t hurt that much.
He wasn’t obligated to share all his secrets with me.
We weren’t in an actual relationship, even with the bond.
Though I thought we were in a real friendship.
I wasn’t sure when I started wanting more, but as he slipped another piece of cake into my mouth, I realized I was always going to be hungry.