Slade tilted his head, and I got the distinct impression he was surprised. “Absolutely. The one who attacked us in the car was not the same one who spelled the house. You couldn’t smell the differences in their magical energy?”
I stared at him, before turning to Hunter, who appeared amused. “Uh, no. I didn’t know you could smell the difference in magic. It’s all just stinky rotten eggs to me.”
Slade huffed, and crinkled his brow like that was news to him. “Interesting.”
Hunter’s rumble of laughter was a nice distraction, easing up the remaining tension from Finley’s dramatic exit.
Deciding it was time for a subject change, I asked, “Did anyone find our phones from where we were attacked? Or… my jacket maybe?”
I’d been trying not to think about—or mourn—the amazing custom jacket Kellan had given me on the day we’d been kidnapped. It hurt too much. I especially hadn’t thought about my pretty pink Ducati Penigale V4R motorbike. That, I already knew was toast.
“Yes, I found your phone in one battered piece, but your jacket was shredded by the blast,” Hunter said as he pushed to his feet, pausing when Florence hurried in the room, a huge pot in her hands.
“Sorry about the delay,” she burst out, sounding harried. “We couldn’t find the bay leaves for the beef stew. Gerald almost tore the pantry to pieces.”
I reached out to remove the tray from the center of the table to make room for the gorgeous, burnt-orange ceramic pot, with a notched lid so the ladle could fit. “You’re not late at all, Flo,” I told her as I forced a smile. “We’ve been more than well fed on the starters. Thank you.”
She patted my arm and whipped the tray off me so quickly italmostfelt like magic. A second later, my wine was filled, alongwith both alpha’s whiskey glasses, and while she spared a glance at the spot where Finley’s half-drunk beer remained, she didn’t ask where he was.
No shifter could have missed his outburst.
By the time Florence placed the matching orange bowls next to the stew, Hunter had retrieved my phone, and a spark of joy lit up my insides as he placed the device into my hand. “Sorry, I haven’t had time to get you a new one, but it still works if you… want to read the messages.”
He knew exactly why I wanted this phone—for a piece of Kellan.
Hunter retrieved his newly filled whiskey glass, theMINEflashing at me from his right hand, and I sighed with more contentment than I really had any right to feel. Slade added to that feeling when he reached out to fill a bowl, focusing on the meatier chunks, and then placed it right in front of me. “Thank you,” I whispered, finding it hard to believe this was my life.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to these alphas or the way they made mefeelwith the simplest of gestures. Slade nodded, sipping his whiskey as well. “You need to eat.”
Both alphas were once again content to drink and watch me eat, which should have felt odd, but it just didn’t. Life had been a fucking adventure the past few weeks, and I was just along for the ride.
The first bite of stew almost blew my mind. Compared to what I’d made in our prison house, this was a masterpiece of flavor and texture. Every part of it seasoned perfectly, every flavor evenly balanced and fulfilling. “Holy shit,” I gasped, scooping up another chunk of meat. “You guys have to try this dish. It’s literally lifechanging.”
Hunter leaned over, and my entire body stilled except for the frantic flutter of a pulse in my neck. He brushed his thumb across my lips, catching a drop of stew I must have missed, andwhen he brought that thumb to his mouth and tasted it, my lower half clenched embarrassingly hard.
Feeling any sort of arousal when Kellan was unconscious had me mentally slapping myself. But my hormones did not get the same memo. Or my wolf.
We just continued staring at his sinful mouth.
“You’re right,” Hunter rumbled with a smirk. “Lifechanging.”
Well, fuck a shifter.
Hunter was about to have me moaning, and it would have nothing to do with food.
To keep from embarrassing myself, I dove back into the stew, shoveling in spoonfuls until my stomach started to protest. “Are you two going to eat?” I finally asked, taking a break. “You don’t grow and maintain heights and muscles like yours without needing sustenance. What are you both? Six foot eight?”
When Slade smiled, it had almost the same effect as Hunter’s little stew trick. “I’m just over six-nine and Hunter is six-six. Poor little guy.”
My spoon hovered mid-air, halfway to my mouth. “It’s weird when you make jokes. You know that, right? I can never tell if you’re serious or not.”
Hunter grunted out a dry laugh. “He’s serious,” he said. “He does consider me alittle guy.”
I tried not to laugh too, but it was impossible in the face of these alphas.
Who knew they’d be so funny? Certainly not me.
Needing to stay busy or I was going to throw myself over the table and into one of their laps, I lifted the lid off the pot and grabbed two bowls for them. I made sure Slade’s was mostly filled with liquid and beef, while Hunter was always happy with a mix of meat and rabbit food.
