Chapter 42
Evangeline
Three Weeks Later
It’s been ages since I’ve had multiple dishes going at the same time, and the thrill of it hits me like a shot of pure adrenaline.
I’m darting between the slow-cooked lemon-peppered chicken simmering to perfection, the creamy mushroom risotto demanding just the right stir, and the golden garlic knots puffing up in the oven, their buttery scent filling the kitchen.
Every counter is alive with color—fresh vegetables chopped and ready, and vibrant herbs waiting to be tossed in.
I didn’t realize just how much I missed this, missed creating meals from scratch, coaxing flavors together like an orchestra.
After weeks of nothing but berries, I swear, if I never see another one again, it’ll be too soon.
It’s been three weeks since we returned home, and so much has changed.
The land has flourished almost overnight, and the last traces of the curse faded until the air itself felt lighter.
In that first week, Rip kept his promise.
He supplied our kingdom with enough food to get us through.
We rationed it carefully, making sure every household had enough, while keeping a supply here at the castle for me to turn into meals.
And those meals? They were open to everyone, no questions asked.
I made sure of that before I even agreed to bring the food home with us.
I couldn’t have anyone going hungry while there was food to spare.
We wasted no time returning to our crops, hands in the soil once more.
With the earth magic flowing through so many of our fae, the crops grew back in record time.
What should have taken months happened in mere days.
Fresh greens, plump vegetables, and golden grains sprang from the ground like the land was eager to feed us again.
Soon, we had more than enough, and the need for rationing faded into a distant memory.
Some of the sick fae took longer to heal, but in the end, no one else succumbed to the curse.
I watched Niko carefully the first week, afraid that at any moment his veins would fill with inky darkness once again.
Except that never happened. He grew stronger by the day.
His appetite came back too, and not just for food.
For me. Me and Zephyr.
It’s been glorious, but I’ve never been so sore in my life.
It’s a good kind of sore, but I’ve worked muscles I didn’t even know I had, and I’m desperately feeling it now.
It’s not just one man who can’t keep his hands off me, but two.
It’s a good problem to have, but a girl has to rest her vagina occasionally.
Even if said vagina weeps when she’s not stuffed by one of her mates’ cocks.
It’s a struggle I never thought I would have.
Even now, pacing the kitchen like I’m trying to get all my steps in, Zephyr can’t keep his hands off me. It’s my fault, really. When Niko told us King Oziel and his wife, Isabelle, would be coming over for dinner, I jumped at the chance to cook for new people.
Zephyr asked if I needed help. I didn’t, but I took him up on his offer.
Which he did, at first, by cutting up the veggies and kneading dough for me.
But when the tasks ran out, he shadowed me.
His hand would caress my back, and sometimes he would kiss my temple, causing my stomach to erupt in butterflies.
“Are you done?” he purrs in my ear as I take the bread out, stomach growling with the need to taste.
“Yes, you impatient man, I’m done cooking dinner.
” I barely have time to put the hot tray down before Zephyr is spinning me around and crushing his lips against mine in a passionate kiss.
My knees buckle, but Zephyr wraps his arms around my waist, keeping me up.
I melt into him, lips parting as his tongue finds mine.
I can’t help the small moan that leaves my lips as I wrap my arms around his neck.
I’m lost to the kiss, lost to Zephyr, until a very audible—and fake—cough pulls me from my lust-induced haze. I break the kiss but don’t move far from Zephyr, who’s still holding me close to his chest. We turn as one to see Niko standing in the doorway with a boyish grin on his face.
“This scene looks familiar,” he teases. “I didn’t know helping you cook involved that. I regret not volunteering.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “It doesn’t. I finished dinner. Zephyr took it upon himself to distract me.”
“I wanted my dessert first,” he says, his voice unapologetic and deep, sending shivers down my spine. I’m completely spent, but I can’t help the flicker of arousal that starts low in my belly.
“As much as I would love to indulge in our dessert now, Oziel and Isabelle have arrived. My mother and Finnick are with them in the dining room.” There’s a tight set to his jaw, like he hoped this evening wouldn’t happen.
I can’t say I blame him. Oziel is…a lot. From the very short interaction I had with him upon my arrival, I know he’s not someone you want to cross. What kind of wife did Ender find for him who would keep up with his…eccentricities?
I can’t deny that I’m interested in meeting Isabelle, though.
“Well, it’s rude to keep them waiting.” I carefully untangle myself from Zephyr, who mutters something about having Oziel wait longer, but I ignore him. “Help me get the food out there. And remember, anything that doesn’t get eaten goes to the infirmary or a family in need. Nothing gets—”
“Wasted,” they say in unison.
I can’t help but smile. My men know me so well.
Finnick is speaking to an unfamiliar woman when we enter the dining room, placing the food down on the table. A waiter quickly swoops in, preparing all our plates. I still feel a little awkward having someone serve me, but I offer him a kind smile before glancing at our two guests.
King Oziel is a formidable presence in the room, dressed in all black with shadowy darkness surrounding him.
It pulses in time with his breathing as if it’s an extension of him.
He rests his hand on the back of a petite woman.
I can only make out her side profile, but she is hauntingly beautiful.
She’s also in black, an elaborate corset dress that contrasts with her pale skin.
Raven-black hair curls down her back, and when she laughs at something Finnick says, her throaty laugh sounds seductive.
Pouty red lips form a half smile. She’s holding a glass of wine, black stiletto nails clinking softly against the glass.
“Oziel,” Niko greets, breaking through whatever story Finnick is telling. The demon king and his wife turn as one, and I can’t help but bristle under the intense stares. “And you must be Queen Isabelle.” He smiles at her.
“Must be.” Her voice is pure sin. Everything about this woman exudes sex, danger, and confidence.
“Apologies for our lateness,” Oziel says, a slight smirk on his lips. “My wife decided to stab me before we left our home. Seemed rude to come covered in blood.”
The wife in question just rolls her eyes, as if she didn’t just admit to stabbing him. “I warned him multiple times. I simply had to get my point across.”
“And did she ever,” he purrs, licking his lips. “Don’t be too sad on my behalf, though. I was greatly compensated for the minor injury.” The way he looks at her while he speaks tells me just how he was compensated. Apparently stabbing is a kink now. Who knew?
Wanting to shift the conversation, I move forward and offer my hand to Isabelle. “Hi, I’m Evangeline. Another Grym Hollow refugee.”
At first, she makes no attempts to take my hand, and I awkwardly start to pull away. At the last second, she takes it and offers me a smile I think is genuine.
“Pleasure to meet you, Evangeline. And congratulations on getting out of that shithole and managing to snag yourself two husbands,” she says.
I don’t know how to respond, so I just smile awkwardly.
“Let’s sit. Evangeline prepared dinner for us.” Zephyr gestures to the dining room table.
“Evangeline is a terrific chef. I should know, she lets me taste test everything,” Finnick says proudly as he takes a seat at a tiny table placed on top of the larger table. A special plate is made for him.
I watch with a tight knot in my stomach as Isabelle and Oziel settle into their seats, each placing a neatly folded napkin across their lap.
Isabelle leans toward him, her lips brushing close to his ear as she murmurs something too soft for me to catch.
He gives a single, deliberate nod before they both reach for their utensils. My pulse quickens.
Isabelle takes the first bite of the risotto, chewing far too slowly for my liking. Does that mean she hates it? Did I screw up our meeting before we even began?
Thankfully, my fears are soon put to rest when she looks up through her thick, dark lashes and smiles at me. “This is far better than the food our chefs make. Please teach our staff your ways. I fear I won’t be satisfied with their mediocre meals any longer.”
I let out a sigh of relief, finally relaxing.
Dinner runs smoothly as the room fills with small talk.
Most of the questions are for Isabelle and me about Grym Hollow.
It’s strange to talk about a place I lived my entire life, knowing I’ll never go back.
I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for my first home.
That’s where I had many wonderful years with my parents.
But Niko and Zephyr are my future, and I can’t imagine being anywhere but here now.
After some time, we finish our meal, and the leftovers are quickly swept away, getting packaged up for the infirmary. “So,” Zephyr starts, eyes fixed on Oziel. “Shall we discuss the reason you’re here?”
“Ah, yes, that.” Oziel sips on a blood-red wine, glancing down at his wife.
“It’s quite the revelation my wife discovered from the Nephilim my people took after the battle on the beach.
A revelation that will change everything.
We also discovered a new ability I believe is unique to my wife, but I’ll let that remain a mystery for a little longer. ”
A hush settles over the table, the air thick with unspoken tension.
“And what revelation is that?” Niko’s fingers curl warmly around mine.
On my other side, Zephyr claims my free hand, the heat of his touch grounding me.
Their presence is a comfort, yet beneath it all, a faint, uneasy current lingers, whispering that something is not quite right.
I want to know what ability Isabelle has, but they are being tight-lipped about it.
“That is for my wife to tell,” Oziel says as everyone’s attention fixes on Isabelle.
The demon queen doesn’t waver under our stares. In fact, she sits up taller, as if used to commanding a room full of people. Perhaps she is. Her gaze drifts from person to person before landing on me. “I heard you were able to speak to a Nephilim.”
I nod. “That’s how we learned about the ancient well and where the Nephilim were hiding out.”
“And when you spoke to the Nephilim, it was as if you were pulled into its memory?”
“Yeah, I mean at first, I think we were speaking. But then I felt like I was a bystander in its memory, and the creature wasn’t happy about it.”
“No, they never are,” she says. “The Nephilim the demons captured was very reluctant to speak with me.
It was difficult slipping into its mind, but I managed, albeit only for a short while.
It was enough, though. The memory I stumbled upon was one I saw before.
An intense battle. In all honesty, it was more of a bloodbath than anything.
Mescos was fighting against the Nephilim, and watching the battle play out were two people.
“One of them was Gadreel,” Isabelle says. Both Niko and Zephyr tense at the name.
“Who is Gadreel?” I raise a brow, not wanting to be left out of the loop.
“Gadreel is the leader of the Nephilim,” Oziel explains. “He’s far more intelligent than the others. Has abilities they don’t have. He’s ruthless and incredibly dangerous.” He sounds more awed than nervous about Gadreel.
“And he wasn’t alone,” Isabelle adds, and my attention snaps back to her.
“I couldn’t make out who the person was last time.
Their back was to me, and I was preoccupied with a woman screaming at the unknown creature to stop.
That was when the memory faded. But this time, I saw the man turn around. I saw his face. A familiar face.”
Something in my gut twists. A warning I already know I’ll regret ignoring. But I have to know. My voice is low, urgent. “Who did you see, Isabelle?”
Her eyes lock onto mine, unblinking, as if bracing for the blow she’s about to deliver. Her fingers tighten around her glass, and the faint tremor in her grip tells me she’s just as shaken, which only adds to my own nerves.
When she finally speaks, her voice is steady, but the words hit like a blade to the ribs.
“The creature that turned…” Her breath hitches. “It was The Guardian.”
The room seems to stop breathing. My pulse thunders in my ears, but Isabelle isn’t finished.
She swallows hard, her next confession dropping like a death knell.
“Ender was working with Gadreel.”