Chapter 8 Food For Thought #2
Her porcelain skin was almost translucent, whiter than snow, with the faintest blush of peach across her cheeks and lips.
A perfect cupid’s bow accentuated her mouth, and her hair was as white as moonlight.
It was also woven into a thick braid that fell over her armored shoulder.
But it was her eye that stole my breath.
Singular and centered in her forehead, framed by an intricate silver casting that blended into her skin like welded jewelry.
It wasn’t grotesque, no, if anything, it was mesmerizing.
A glass-encased gem of glacial blue that gleamed softly in the low light.
“Wow,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“You’re… stunning.” To my relief, her lips curved faintly.
“I’m Alex,” I said quickly, thrusting out my hand with an overenthusiastic smile.
It was almost as if I couldn’t help myself, like she emitted kind, friendly, happy vibes or something.
However, unlike her welcoming aura, her grasp was anything but.
Her fingers were freezing cold… literally.
In fact, the glacial contact made me gasp as icy particles formed where our skin met. I pulled back quickly, wiping my hand on my dress with an awkward laugh.
“I know who you are,” she replied smoothly before dropping a bombshell on me as she added, “The General mentions you often enough.”
The comment made my stomach dip, and my cheeks burn before I could stop them.
“He… er… does?” I asked, making her smirk, but instead of answering, she moved on.
“I’m Bronte,” she said, ignoring my fluster and tossing her thumb toward the broody fairy. “And this is Christos.”
The fairy-boy guard inclined his head, just barely acknowledging me. If he’d been any less interested, he might’ve fallen asleep standing up.
“Please, follow us,” Bronte added, gesturing down the hall. I exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the nerves that were crawling up my spine. I had no idea what the reason for this dinner was, but I had a feeling it wasn’t just about food.
The hallway beyond my suite was eerily quiet, every sound muffled by thick carpet and still air. My heels murmured softly as we walked, echoing like whispers in the vast emptiness. Yet when we stopped outside the elevator, I hesitated. It had been years since I’d seen one that still worked.
“How…?” I began, then thought better of it. Because if my hotel room had running power, it shouldn’t have surprised me. Still, the question lingered… how was The General keeping this place running?
“Everything’s been restored,” Bronte said softly, as if reading my thoughts. “You’ll find the city holds many secrets.”
Great. Just what I needed, more mysteries.
I stepped inside, my stomach flipping as the elevator began to descend.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the hum of technology until now, that faint vibration, the soft glow of light, and the illusion of normalcy.
But the closer we got to the lower floors, the tighter my chest felt.
Every passing second brought me closer to him and to the moment he’d see me in this dress.
The elevator chimed softly, and it could have been an alarm blaring for the way it made my heart jump.
“This way,” Bronte said, leading me through double doors and into a private dining space where I suddenly stopped dead.
The room was stunning. It was all rich contrasts, with dark mahogany paneling, slate polished floors, and low lighting that bathed the space in a golden warmth.
The air smelled faintly of spice, oak, and leather from the chairs surrounding a long, dark table draped with a deep red runner, candles flickering along its center.
It felt intimate, powerful, dangerous, and like the kind of place where secrets were traded instead of meals. And somewhere in that room of candlelight, I knew he’d be waiting.
It was obvious this had once been a grand restaurant. The kind of place where the clink of crystal glasses and soft music once filled the air. Now, though the years had dulled its edges, its beauty remained like a memory preserved in gold and shadow.
The last time I’d been somewhere like this was the night my parents had taken me out to celebrate my graduation. I could still remember ordering a filet mignon and laughing when my dad pretended to steal bites from my plate.
The thought made my chest ache.
And yet, as the rich aromas drifted from the kitchen, my mouth watered.
The scent of real food nearly made me dizzy with longing.
But then I forgot about the food entirely.
Because all three men at the table stood when I entered, and my heart jumped into my throat.
Because there he was, now dressed in all his finery…
The General.
Gone was the military uniform that usually cloaked him in authority.
In its place was a deep crimson doublet, the fabric heavy and rich, embroidered with intricate velvet detail along the cuffs and sleeves.
Gold buttons ran down the front, catching the candlelight and igniting reflections in his eyes.
Eyes that glowed faintly, like molten gold bleeding through the dark.
I froze under his gaze.
A gaze that looked like it wanted to…
Consume me whole.