I don’t respond to Talon. Instead, I answer Echo’s question. “Saint Winnifred’s.”
He scribbles down the name and swiftly stands, walking off.
“Here you go, doll. You get stuck into that,” the one cooking says.
I look down at the huge plate of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and hash browns. I can practically feel myself drooling at the sight.
I look up at the cook, my memory finally catching up. “Thank you, er… Clutch?”
He gives me a lopsided grin, twirling the toothpick in his mouth. “You got it,” he says with a cheeky wink. “Anytime, doll. It’s been a while since I cooked like that.”
I pick up the knife and fork, and the overwhelming hunger takes over. I cut into a pancake and shove a huge piece into my mouth. My eyes close, and I can’t help the moan that escapes.
When I open them again, I notice no one else is eating. Instead, they’re all watching me in rapt fascination.
I quickly set the knife and fork down. “I’m sorry. I should wait for the rest of you,” I say awkwardly.
Clutch moves around the table, handing a large glass filled with a deep red liquid to each member.
“Do you not eat breakfast?” I ask Lucian.
Clutch hands him his glass.
“We start the day with a nutritious drink,” Lucian says.
I look at the glass. “Like beets?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes. Now eat,” he orders.
I nod, giving him a small smile, and continue to eat. I try not to shovel it in like an animal, but I can still feel their eyes on me with every mouthful. I push the thought aside. I need food. I need to eat.
After I reach the point where I can’t physically take another bite, I set the knife and fork down, and a loud belch slips out of me.
My eyes widen in horror. “Shit, sorry,” I mutter, clapping a hand over my mouth.
Only Clutch seems amused. The rest stare back at me, unreadable. Content? Judging? I can’t tell.
I look to Lucian. “I think maybe I should go back to the room now. Leave everyone in peace,” I say softly.
“You don’t have to, but if that is what you wish,” he replies.
I glance at the others. Still not talking. The silence speaks volumes.
I’m not wanted here. Not welcome.
Lucian follows my gaze. “I will be back. There are things I would like to discuss,” he says firmly.
We both stand, and the scrape of a chair dragging roughly across the stone floor has me turning.
Hex stands, glaring angrily at Lucian. “We voted,” he spits. “You have until midnight tomorrow.”
All of them—except Clutch and Cain—give a tight nod.
Tomorrow at midnight. To do what?
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVELYNN
