“Sure.” I opened the tin back up and took two out. “This is Hazel’s recipe,” I said, wanting to fill the silence. “True Scottish shortbread.” A thought tugged me. “I asked her about adding vanilla, and she smacked me with a wooden spoon.” My lips curved at the memory.
Spending time in Hazel’s cottage had been a breath of fresh air. The woman was a lot of things, but she knew how to make a damned good shortbread.
Ethan said nothing, only put the cookie to his mouth and took a small bite. The flash of his teeth and the crumble of the shortbread into his mouth made me swallow and look away.
Good gods. I needed to find that silent penis sooner rather than later.
But I couldn’t help myself. I looked at him again and saw he’d closed his eyes as he chewed. His throat worked as he swallowed.
Alright. Shit. That made it worse.
Cookies were not supposed to be erotic.
I shoved the entire cookie into my mouth so I couldn’t say anything stupid like, “Take me now, you big handsome powerful beast.”
Seriously. I needed to get a grip.
Ethan focused on those cookies like a soldier focused on the battlefield, with intense concentration and attention to detail. Every bite was planned, but his enjoyment was obvious. He ate all three cookies slowly and in silence.
By the time he finished the last cookie, I was about to leap out of my skin and right on top of him. Keeping a stoic face and pretending I was completely unaffected required using all my skills.
“Those were delicious, Moira. Thank you.”
I passed the tin back over, even though I might die if this fucker tortured me by eating another cookie. “Want some more?”
Was that amusement sparkling in his eyes? I watched him warily.
“Maybe when I’m ready to leave. For now, I am sated.” He turned to me, spearing me with that beautiful dark gaze. “With food, at least.”
Holy fucking hell. Was Ethanflirtingwith me?
He looked away and exhaled a deep breath.
No. He wasn’t. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Where is Thorvin?” he asked.
If I lied, I suspected he would know. He was not as flippant as the other Lords. I pointed to another mound behind and to the left of me.
Ethan didn’t catch it at first, but when he did, he froze. Violence sparked over his face. “Do I dare ask why one of my Lords is in a grave?”
I stayed perfectly still, feeling like a mouse hiding from a predator. “Not a grave,” I said quietly. “A punishment.”
Ethan jerked his attention away from where Thorvin lay. “Elaborate,” he snapped.
“Thorvin delayed asking Evie for help until it was almost too late. When she arrived and saw his territory in this state—” I swept my hand across to encompass the destruction of the land, “she was understandably furious.”
Ethan’s granite jaw tightened. “And she thought that gave her the right to punish one of my Lords?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Evie is a goddess. She is very close to being Mother Earth, Gaia, whatever the hell you want to call her. It hurts her when the earth dies. Thorvin made a deliberate decision not to call her. So yes, she thought he deserved punishment.”
His irises ringed with magic the color of burnt gold touched by a tinge of that delicious, dark blue. “And what do you think?” His beast rode his voice, turning the already deep timbre into something rough and violent.
I thought I wanted to take him by the collar, push him to the ground, and do terrible things to him. “I agree with her. He is responsible for everyone in this territory, and we know the magic can infect its inhabitants. If allowed to spread, it’s possible he would have harmed or even killed the people who rely on him to help them.”
His fingers elongated into claws. I braced myself, waiting for him to leap toward me, but he turned away and stalked toward Thorvin’s makeshift shelter. When he went to his knees and shoved his claws into the ground, I rose and walked over.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I warned him.
