Page 23 of The Gods Order

“I do actually have something I’d like to slip in your drink one day. Some love potion Vullie whipped up.”

She frowns at his mischievous wink.

“I swear to warn you before I do it, though.”

“Not warn, Riven. You ask before you slip me some weird-ass shit.”

He groans, craning his neck back. “Fine. Fun sucker.”

She rolls her eyes as she brings her coffee to her lips. She tries to hide her grimace, but we all catch it. Creed shoves his chair back, grabs the kettle from the middle of the table, and stomps toward the sink. “That’s the last time I try something new,” he mutters.

“Oh, so you fucked the coffee up?” Kyzen asks, laughing at Creed’s scowl.

“I didn’t fuck it up. I infused some Maca root to give us a boost of energy today. How was I supposed to know it’d taste like shit?”

Thayla, Kyzen, and Riven fall into a fit of laughter while I stare at Creed, utterly confused. He spends more time in the kitchen and around herbs than the rest of us combined. He should absolutely know what anything he fixes tastes like.

What a baffling morning.

A knock at the front door silences the laughter instantly, and we all turn toward it. We know who it is, but their arrival is a sharp reminder of the conversations to come.

“I got it,” Kyzen says as he rises.

Thayla releases a long sigh and picks her mug back up, then scoffs when she remembers it tastes dreadful. A smirk crawls across my lips, and as if she senses it, her eyes flick up to mine.

My blood heats from her wink and smile.

“Damn, you don’t even have the coffee ready yet?” Sevryn asks as he barges into the kitchen like it’s his house. “What are you doing?”

“Fuck off. I’m fixing a new kettle now,” Creed grunts.

Riven, Kyzen, and Thayla snicker.

“Food’s done at least,” Havar says as he reaches across the table to pluck a piece of meat from the plate with his bare, grimy fingers.

Thank goodness Yemi smacks him.

Lack of sleep is affecting everyone’s judgment.

Slowly but surely, they all make their way to the table and start fixing their plates. Conversations move as smoothly as they can, but everyone feels the undercurrent in the air.

Thayla isn’t speaking unless spoken to. Her eyes roam over everyone, and she’ll laugh if something amuses her. She’s present but not participating.

She gives Creed a grateful smile and returns his kiss as he sets her mug in front of her. Her eyes drift shut as she inhales the scent of the proper cup of coffee.

“So are we going to talk about this shit or what?”

A glare crosses my brow, and every head snaps toward Sevryn.

He shrugs. “What? I was just addressing the issue. We all know we can’t say shit about going into that restricted room, so that means we’re discussing Thayla’s dad.”

“Thane.”

Her quick, cold correction drops a tense hush over the house. She flexes her fingers repeatedly before wrapping them around her mug and huffing.

“Or Val. The God of Boundaries. Whatever you want to address him as.”

“What do you want to address him as, Thay?” Lambrit asks, offering her a small, comforting smile.