“They are not girls. They are warriors. Make sure you don’t call them that to their face, or they’ll cook you into their famous potato stew.”
Audrey rolled her eyes.
“So dramatic.”
She looked around the hut, taking in as much as she could while trying to appear casual. Shelves lined the walls, packed with glass jars containing dried herbs, liquids in shades of amber, green, and deep purple, and fine powders that sparkled in the candlelight.
Candles burned in every corner. Crystals of different sizes and colors were scattered everywhere – clear quartz on the windowsill, deep blue stones on a shelf, blood-red garnetsarranged in a circle on a side table. Stones carved with strange symbols lay in patterns, and bundles of dried plants hung from the ceiling beams, filling the air with the fragrant scent of sage, rosemary, and mint.
Audrey placed the basket on the only corner of the table that wasn’t covered with supplies.
Morgath cleared the rest of the table, moving jars and vials to the shelves, then pulled up a chair for himself. He didn’t offer one to Audrey.
She raised an eyebrow.
“So, this is how it is when we’re not putting on a show.”
She found herself a chair and dragged it over, sitting down next to him.
Morgath scowled at her and moved several inches away before he began unpacking the basket. He pulled out thick slices of bread, cold roasted meat still on the bone, wedges of hard cheese, three apples, and a flask of water.
Audrey reached for a piece of bread, but Morgath’s eyes flicked to her.
“I don’t remember inviting you to eat with me.”
She pouted, making her lower lip tremble just slightly.
“But I’m starving. And I was nice enough to bring you your lunch.”
He shook his head and turned his attention to the food, tearing the meat with his hands. He ate quickly and efficiently, somehow managing to get the food through the jaw opening of the skull without making a mess.
Audrey helped herself to bread and cheese, watching him from the corner of her eye. He kept his gaze away from her, looking at his food, at the walls, at anything except where she sat beside him.
“Should I sit in your lap?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“No.”
She picked up a piece of meat and examined it.
“This is hard to pull from the bone. Will you do it for me?”
Morgath looked at her, and she saw his eyes drop to her chest before he caught himself. The blue velvet clung to her breasts, the neckline dipping low enough to show the curve of her cleavage. His gaze lingered there for just a heartbeat too long before he jerked his eyes back to her face and scoffed.
“I’m not feeding you.”
“Why not?” Audrey smiled sweetly. “You do it so well at dinner.”
Morgath wiped his hands on a cloth napkin, pushed his chair back, and stood.
“You should go.”
“But I’m not finished eating.”
“Hurry up, then leave. And don’t come here again.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is my sanctuary, and I’d like to keep it that way. If you’re not ill or hurt, you have no business being here.”
