Page 26 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

“Aye. Though my knowledge is limited. Not much is written of saints in books. But I remembered Koga mention blue flames. Just like yours.”

So, Koga knew the truth too? Who else did?

“Oh.” I rested more against the counter. Mainly for balance. My knees were a bit wobbly. “And how do you… um, feel about it?”

“Regardless of whatever power may flow through your veins, you’re still Evan to me.” Fane set aside the stirring spoon and looked at me. “A human I’m somewhat fond of. One I may even miss if he were to ever leave this realm.”

My chin wobbled, and a burning started in the backs of my eyes.

“You still shouldn’t put bacon in your green beans though.” Fane gathered a stack of bowls and placed them on the serving cart, along with silverware. “An unforgivable crime.”

I breathed out a laugh. He didn’t fool me one bit. He’d loved those bacon-infested green beans.

Steps neared the kitchen, and Fane and I turned toward the archway just as a cinnamon roll stepped through it.

“Hey, Ev.” Callum smiled. “I came to fetch you.”

“To fetch me, huh?” I asked, putting a hand on my hip.

His smile widened, and he approached. Then faltered in that approach as his gaze landed on the window. “There’s that strange-looking creature again. Why does it have blood all over its mouth?”

“First, that’s raspberry juice, not blood.” I grabbed his arm and patted it once. “And second, he’s not strange. He’s adorable.”

Callum scrutinized the arbordu. “I admit he is fairly endearing. Blood and all.”

Fane rolled his eyes. “The two of you should join your companions in the dining parlor. Nina and Cyan will be here shortly to help serve dinner.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I can stay and—”

“You do realize that I prepared and served all the meals long before you came here, yes?” Fane interjected with a flick of his hand. “Now, shoo, humans. You’ll only get in my way.”

“Okay, okay.” I put my hands up. “If you insist.”

With my arm looped around Callum’s, the two of us left the kitchen and headed toward the dining parlor. Voices filtered out into the corridor as we approached, as well as booming laughter.

Entering the parlor, the happy swirls in my chest intensified.

Lake sat crisscross on the rug in front of the fireplace playing with Oreo. The puppy gnawed at the bottom of his tunic and shook it violently as if it were a game of tug-o-war. Lake simply smiled and rolled the puppy to his back, tickling his chunky belly. Rowan stood against the wall beside them, one leg kicked back, and watched the two play.

The trio of knights sat at the large dining table, mugs of ale in front of them, along with pre-dinner snacks I’d made for them. Duke grabbed his mug and downed the contents, then slammed it back on the table with a hearty laugh in response to something Baden said.

“Lieutenant!” Duke motioned for Callum to approach. “Ya won’t believe what this reckless bastard did earlier today. Picked a fight with two axe-wielding demons.”

“Sparred with,” Baden corrected. “Not fought.”

Callum pecked a kiss to my cheek before walking over and sitting down, an eager gleam in his chocolate brown eyes. He loved hearing stories of their training. Loved sharing his own too. He and the demon with the spiky black hair I’d watched him train with before had become regular sparring buddies.

Maddox and Briar stood together near the hearth, their heads pressed close together as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. Briar caressed Maddox’s bicep, followed by Maddox brushing aside a strand of Briar’s bangs.

Their affection made my heart so happy. Both of them then aimed their soft smiles at me.

“Good,” Maddox said, his gaze on me as his hand fell from Briar’s hair. “You’re here. Now I don’t need to track you down myself.”

Excitement fluttered in my belly at the thought of him doing exactly that. In an attempt not to show that excitement though, I stuck up my nose at him and stepped toward the dining table to sit with Callum.

And stumbled.

“Easy, boy,” Draven said in his thick accent, grabbing my arm to stop me from face-planting on the hardwood floor.