Especially the delicious flavours that existed in Cinderkeep.
Dumping the rag and citrus-scented disinfectant on the bench, I headed toward the fridge and opened it. The shelves groaned with food. Fresh melons and strawberries, roasted chicken, cold meats, colourful vegetables, protein shakes, and prepacked soups. My stomach snarled again as I opened the container holding pre-cut celery sticks, scooped up some hummus, and grabbed a handful of strawberries.
Devouring my little feast, I spied one of those earthen jars full of floral wine that I’d become rather fond of.
Excellent.
Plopping the last strawberry into my mouth, I grabbed the jar, nudged the fridge closed with my hip and went hunting for a glass.
Footsteps padded behind me, heavy and soft.
My heart pounded, delivering an instant headache as I whirled around and almost dropped the wine. “Haven’t you heard of employment laws?” I blurted. “I deserve a break and—” I exhaled heavily. “Oh, thank God, it’s just you.”
Whisper blinked, eyeing up the wine in my hands as if he knew exactly what I was doing—raiding his master’s supplies.
“Shoo.” I smiled. “This is for humans only.”
Moving past him, I tried one of the drawers, finding plates and bowls but no glasses.
Whisper followed me, pressing his nose against my hip.
“Are you hungry too?” I opened another drawer.
Aha!
Snatching a crystal glass, I uncorked the jar and splashed clear alcohol into it. Tart pear hit my nose. Perfect. That was one of my favourites. Where did Lucien and his prison guards get this stuff? If they sold them in supermarkets, I would definitely have a drinking problem because they were far too delicious.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I closed my eyes to enjoy the first mouthful and—
Fell on my ass as Whisper knocked me over.
Wine splashed all over me, soaking into my white shirt, turning it see-through and revealing—just like I didn’t like tight clothing—I didn’t like restrictive lingerie. The silk camisole I wore underneath plastered to my skin just like my shirt, making me shiver with icy shock.
“What are you doing, you silly thing?” Pushing the giant predator off me, I tried to climb to my feet, but Whisper pushed me again, his giant head against my wet chest, scooting me along the floor.
“Hey!”
He didn’t stop using me as a mop, pushing me around the island and toward another door in the distance that led to an area I hadn’t been bold enough to explore.
Backing away, Whisper gave me just enough time to stagger to my feet before grabbing the material of my linen trousers and jerking me forward.
I tripped.
My hand landed on his shoulder blades, feeling muscles working beneath sleek fur. “What’s wrong?” I asked, having no choice but to go where the panther yanked me. “Where the hell are you taking me?”
Whisper growled and carted me like a dead gazelle under the archway, down another corridor, and through a cracked open doorway.
I stumbled inside and froze.
Black damask covered the high walls, black velvet drapes blocked the falling dusk, and only a few lamps lit the space. Tucked against the far wall, with nothing else around it as if surrounded by a moat of darkness, was his bed.
“You can’t bring me in here,” I hissed, trying to wrench free from Whisper’s teeth. “This is his bedroom. He’ll kill me if—”
A masculine groan, long and low.
In the gloom, my eyes adjusted, locking onto Lucien Ashfall sitting in the middle of his black-shrouded bed. Cross-legged as if he’d been meditating, his hands clutched his knees until his knuckles turned white. Shirtless, his chin dug against his bare chest, his lean muscles etched with a golden glow, and a silver disc glinting over his heart.
Whisper pulled me forward.
