And again. However many times she required me to walk the path.
Wriggling into a cross-legged position, she reached for the clear box.
I snatched it before she could claim it. Placing it between my legs, I smirked. “What will you give me for this?” Knowing her, she would have picked out precisely five pancakes, all slightly burnt, “with a crisp,” as she would describe it, and then scurried away to eat by herself. And I wanted her to stay. To spend a morning with us. To talk.
She huffed with frustration, but inspected the three plastic containers she had collected on her way here, one after another.
Her love of pastries was unparalleled. I suspected she would become the first person to break out of Ilasall’s prison if you so much as dangled the bait of a chocolate croissant in front of her.
The lid on the yellow box snapped in place, and she reluctantly offered the treats to me. “You can have these.”
I passed her two pancakes in exchange. Four muffins the shade of dark walnut—chocolate—filled the box she had given me. The slightly bitter aroma wafted up my nostrils, and my speech ability abandoned me.
I had often taken a bite of Kali’s pastries whenever they were chocolate. It had been my favorite flavor since I was a little kid.
And she remembered. Even after three months of separation.
Noticing me staring at her in awe, she swiftly erased her smile and devoured the first pancake in four large bites.
Leaning down, Zion clamped his teeth around the other one she was holding and bit off two-thirds.
She gawked at him. At the inch of the fluffy goodness remaining in her grasp. Then back at him.
Growling a war cry, she leaped on him, swatting his arms away and attempting to pluck the pancake sticking out of his mouth. They tumbled onto the blanket, fighting, crumbs flying everywhere, both choking as they failed to swallow the baked batter they were furiously chewing.
With Zion on his back, she straddled him, and I couldn’t help it anymore—I cracked up. The brawl had dissolved the last tension freezing the atmosphere surrounding us, and I yearned for it to remain like this forever, their joy and bickering a constant in our lives.
This was exactly how I wished our mornings would look like.
Catching her fists, Zion inhaled the last piece of the pancake, his body shaking with glee.
Hopping off, she punched his shoulder. “You owe me now.”
He gestured at his groin. “I can pay you in sausage.” And laughed at her as she shot him a dirty look.
She eyed the box sitting between my thighs. “I want another pancake. I didn’t get to eat my second one.”
“Not so fast.” I moved the food container behind my back, out of her sight. “I want a deal.”
“Another bargain,” she puffed out her indignation.
As many as she required.
Her circumstances in Ilasall had taught her to view the fulfillment of her wishes as transactions. Ilasall supplied the black-banded with necessities to ensure their workforce did not starve, but not a drop more. It’d had left her with no other choice but to providefavors, to sell her body in a trade for whatever she was in need of at the time.
With the concept of giving or accepting something without reciprocation foreign to her, deals had become her specialty. Uprooting a deeply ingrained belief was going to take time, sosometimes, indulging her seemed to be a more effective tactic than giving out promises.
“Stay with us for breakfast,” I said. “Don’t run off.”
She fussed with her boots’ laces, wrapping the strings around her fingers. “That’s a steep price for one pancake.”
To sweeten the deal, I jerked my chin to Zion. “I’ll throw him in too.”
Zion perked up. “Ooh, I’m a valuable asset to have. Have you seen my ass? It’s worth a thousand pancakes. You should say yes.”
Kali shook her head. “You’re selling yourself too low. Your ass is worth at least ten years’ worth of pancakes, not a mere thousand.”
He bopped her nose. “Gods, you’re cute.” Rolling onto his stomach, he rested his chin in his palms. “I’m so happy we took you for ourselves.”
