Page 148 of Facade

“Does that mean you want to be with me too?” His look was hopeful.

My mouth quirked to the side as I contemplated.

“I guess.” I didn’t try to hide my smile this time. Throw him a bone, so to speak. Does he actually gnaw on bones? Mama wouldn’t approve of that—

He lurched forward, slamming his mouth against mine.

“Lyra…” he murmured against me.

“Hmm?”

“Will you pull away from me again? Just a little?”

I froze, my eyes popping open as I pulled back. “I ain’t doing no kinky Werewolf shit with you—”

“No! Nothing like that. It’s just the tease of the hunt,” he sulked, caressing my arm. “I haven’t had a good hunt in three days. And Captain Gideon said I can’t shift on the ship.” He frowned, the expression making him look even younger. Speaking of which, I still hadn’t asked how old he was. Oh well.

“That sounds kinky.” I crossed my arms.

“I just haven’t been able to stretch my legs. I get antsy when I can’t shift.” He waited, but I only shrugged. Not my problem you’re a Werewolf.

His face fell.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. The timing was bad too and—”

I darted around the island in the middle of the room. His gaze snapped after me, and the growl that followed made heat pool low in my stomach.

The misshapen loaf of bread-dough-thing was a masterpiece—only a little burnt on the sides, and I’m realizing now, I probably should've cut off some of the stems from the herbs.

No matter!

The soup…er…. stew—we’ll go with a fancier name: the veloute was steaming. Not sure I remember anything being so brown and dirty. Maybe we should've peeled the potatoes’ skins. I tsked, looking at the stack I’d pulled from. Thaddeus should really get a new cook. I’m starting to think these weren’t even washed.

Still no sign of that cook, speaking of. I’ll have to give him a piece of my mind when he gets back.

Brax gave me a lopsided smile as he attempted to clean up our mess. I rolled my eyes. These mini hunts of his will be a nuisance. Maybe next time I could just give him a good scratch behind the ears—

“What the hell have you done to my kitchen!”

The angry little cook braced his arms in the doorway, his face almost as red as Brax’s eyes. Shirt untucked, breeches sagging, and a stench wafting from him that could fend off a skur.

“I should be asking you what’s happened to this kitchen,” I scowled, pointing the wooden spoon at him. “How can anyone cook anything in these conditions? I’ll be reporting you to Thaddeus.”

“What?!” He screeched, then launched for me.

Brax was there in an instant, snarling like a mutt with rabies. He threw the sad creature into the oil we’d spilled, where the remaining flour fell off the counter, coating him. A broken sound left his mouth as he turned red as a pepper, thrashing about like a child. Sad really. All that fancy gold, and Thaddeus couldn’t even afford good help.

Bells clanged on deck.

“What’s that?” I looked to Brax, but he only shrugged.

We left the angry little man behind, slipping around in the oil and cursing us as we made our way to the main deck.

Sailors ran around shouting, their accents too thick to understand. So I looked for Captain Gideon. I ran into the brute instead.

He raised a dark brow as he looked Brax and me over.

“Do I even want to know what you two have been up to?”