I scowl. “Really?”
She lifts the lid, revealing perfectly golden croissants, layers crisp and delicate. And when she slowly, deliberately, breaks one open?—
The scent hits me like a punch to the chest.
A swirl of deep purple ube filling, smooth and rich, its earthy sweetness melding with the buttery dough.
I go very, very still.
Because this?
This is not fair.
She must see the way my nostrils flare slightly because she smirks. “New recipe.”
I say nothing.
She tilts her head. “You sure you don’t want to help me?”
I glare at her. Then at the croissant.
Then, grudgingly, I reach for it.
Her victorious little noise makes my teeth grind.
But the moment I take a bite, I know I’ve lost completely.
It’s soft and flaky, the filling smooth and just sweet enough, the layers shattering perfectly between my teeth.
Gods.
I would run through the Labyrinth all over again if this was at the end of it.
I chew slowly, deliberately, then level her with a flat stare.
“You’re an evil woman, Reyes.”
She beams. “So I’ve been told.”
I sigh. Deeply.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll build your damn display.”
She throws her hands up in victory. “Yes! I knew it!”
“But you’re helping.”
“Done.”
“And if you change your mind halfway through and decide you want a floating, spinning, levitating monstrosity?—”
“Thorne,” she says solemnly, resting a hand over her heart. “Would I ever do that to you?”
I stare at her.
She snickers.
I sigh again, shoving another croissant into my mouth.
