“I want,” I said, clearing my throat when my voice came out too gruff.
She smiled again. “Good. I made too much anyway.”
I watched as she poured the sauce over the pasta and stirred.
“Grab some plates?” She pointed to a cabinet.
I was helpless to disobey her. She was feeding me. Did she have any idea how important that was to a shifter?
Moira dished me up an obscene amount of pasta. “Wine’s on the coffee table.”
I took her dish from her and carried both over. She gave me a grateful smile and sank onto the couch with a soft sigh.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
She wore a pair of leggings and a long off-shoulder sweater. Her hair was loose and hanging all the way to her waist. Moira tucked her bare feet under her thighs and reached for her bowl. “I’m fine, really. Recently, I’ve used much more magic than usual. It caught up to me.”
She dug into her food with gusto. I poured us both a glass of wine and pushed one over to her.
Her grateful smile tugged at my heart. I took a bite of the pasta and almost moaned. Did she have magic in her fingers or something? This was fucking delicious.
I felt her watching me as I ate with single-minded purpose. She chuckled when I finished. “There’s plenty more. Eat as much as you want.”
A smart man would never argue over a statement like that. I filled another bowl and sat back down. “Where’d you learn to cook?”
“Trial and error and plenty of time. I always felt cooking and baking are labors of love. With time and proper practice, all you can do is get better.”
“This is amazing,” I said. “Mind giving me the recipe?”
“For Sarah?” she asked softly.
I blinked, realizing I hadn’t even thought of Sarah. Why did I keep forgetting about her? It was like she wasn’t even there. Sarah used to be the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last thing I thought about when going to sleep at night. “Um. No,” I said sheepishly. “For Vicki.”
Moira let out a soft snort. “She’s going to be so mad my pasta is better than hers.”
My hand paused in the act of shoveling another bite in. “You’ve had Vicki’s pasta?”
Her eyes widened just a hair, just enough to tell me she’d said something she shouldn’t have. “I have,” she said slowly, “during my last visit.”
My eyes narrowed. I could call her on it. I probably should. But she had fed me pasta, and she made cookies—a lot of them, and was it so wrong to just want some peace and some delicious food while in the company of a beautiful woman?
If this was wrong, I never wanted to be right.
I chose to do what every reasonable man confronted with a dilemma like mine would do.
I shut the fuck up.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Iwas so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. Taking ownership of that spell had taken something out of me, something so vital I was struggling to do anything. Food helped a little, offering me a small bump of energy I could use to get through the day, so I’d taken to eating like a horse. If it was available and I could digest it, I ate it.
My grocery bill had all but doubled. Not a big deal, but I knew this couldn’t last forever. I needed blood, and I wasn’t sure I should take Cernunnos’s anymore. His power had run out far too fast, and that disturbed me. He was the most powerful fae in the world, minus Evie, and you’d think that would give me a boost.
I’d managed about four weeks before the fatigue had slowly set in again. Not too much better than being on human blood. I finished my bowl and eyed the stove, wishing I didn’t have to get up for more food, when Ethan took my dish and refilled it.
“Thanks.”
