Page 55 of Savage Throne


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A rapid knock on the door sent me straightening up and hauling the covers up to Kirill’s chest. He groaned as I accidentally hit him in the solar plexus.

“Shit! Sorry,” I muttered, stepping away, my cheeks flaming scarlet as Doctor Petrov and his army of burly nurses came in.

“Ah, Miss Madison. I need to check a few things, if you don’t mind?”

“That’s fine. I was just leaving.” Grabbing my book from the window, I hurried toward the door, feeling like everyone knew what had just happened. I was a grown adult, and Kirill was the boss, but I felt like a shamed schoolgirl as I hightailed it out the door. Maybe it was being back in Woodhaven, but I couldn’t help feeling like a naughty teenager.

“Don’t go far, Princess,” Kirill called to me as I made it to the dark hall and sagged against the wall, my heart racing and palms sweating.

What was this man doing to me? I couldn’t recognize myself, but at the same time, I was finally the person I’d been waiting to be. I hurried toward my room with the taste of Kirill’s ownership still coating my mouth.

* * *

Kirill recovered quickly.The look in his eyes told me what I should expect once he was back on his feet. It never failed to thrill me.

I tried to stay out of reach. Dr Petrov had warned me about the risk of infection, or what pushing himself too far when he was still healing could do inside him, and I didn’t want to take that risk. Unfortunately, Kirill seemed deaf to all advice that went against what he wanted, which was to corner me somewhere quiet, or hunt me down and have his wicked way.

I had to admit as the days passed and the frustration built; I cared less and less about him getting injured, too. It had been a blip, seeing him so weak and hurt. The real Kirill was burly and strong. Nothing could defeat him, or at least, that was the image of him I had in my head, and it wasn’t easy to shake.

Tonight, he was joining us for dinner in the dining room for the first time, and Olga had decided it was a good chance to put my newly found cooking skills to the test. She’d been forcing me to learn more wifely skills at her competent side, and I went along with it to have something to do and to make her happy. Tonight, I’d made a simple chicken casserole for a strange assortment of found family we’d gathered in Woodhaven.

Olga, Max, and Ivan took their seats around the table, and Kirill was already there, having made his way slowly downstairs. His warm look stole my breath when I came in carrying the plates of dinner.

“Here it is, and don’t blame me if it’s horrible. Olga wouldn’t help,” I muttered, as I went around placing the plates down and running back to the kitchen for more before settling myself at the table.

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious, Princess, since you’ve made it.” Kirill picked his fork up first, and I watched nervously as he cut a piece of casserole and put it in his mouth. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was, seeing him eat something I’d made that wasn’t a sandwich.

He chewed slowly, and then nodded.“Delicious, Molly,” he pronounced.

A smile flooded my face, and I was proud of my efforts. Olga patted my hand and gave me a rare smile before digging in. I cut my a piece for myself. I couldn’t help watching the other reactions.

“Very good, Mallory,” Max smiled, after looking quickly at Kirill.

Ivan was also looking at Kirill and gave me a smile as he chewed quickly. “Excellent.”He cut another piece, this time even bigger, and nearly swallowed it whole.

“Hey! Slow down. There’s more in the kitchen. You don’t have to rush.”

The sound of cutlery falling sharply caught my attention. Olga was drinking her glass of water, her fork abandoned on her plate. She put down her glass and let out a sigh.“Have you tried it?”

Right, I should eat too. I cut a piece and took a bite. Salt flooded my tongue and made me shudder. There was a horrible aftertaste of something acidic as well. I immediately spat it into my napkin.

“That’s horrible!” I looked around at everyone else.

Olga was nibbling on the black bread and had pushed her plate aside. Kirill had eaten most of his, as had Max and Ivan.

I stared at them, shocked. “How can you eat it?”

“Because, Princess, you made it, and it’s perfect,” Kirill soothed.

I turned to look at him. “Are you terrorizing everyone to eat this horrible dish?”

He held his hands up. “I haven’t said a word.”

“Like you need to speak to scare people into doing what you want!”

Kirill smirked. “The real question is, why doesn’t it work with you?”

Ivan was the first to start laughing. His big booming chuckle melted the tension at the table. “Mallory, I’m sure you’re good at many things, but cooking isn’t one of them.”

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