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Face pinched with confusion, Kai sets the lid down on the tabletop, and he moves onto the second dome.
Lid number two comes off.
Pancakes. Chocolate chip. Oozy brown chunks are melted in the flattened shapes.
Number three. Scrambled eggs topped with melted cheese.
And the fourth; a huge, round chocolate cake. From its height, I can tell it has at least five layers. The icing on the outside is dark, rich, and shiny. On top, there are eight dollops of frosting with a ripe strawberry on each one.
For several seconds, Kai and I gape at the table in silence.
Armand, that son of a bitch.
He actually did it.
My stomach projects another disgruntled rumble, and the organ twists to the point of painful. Crossing my arms, I try not to double over as I grimace through the cramp.
“That unbelievable asshole,” I mumble through gritted teeth.
After giving me a sympathetic lift of his mouth with understanding in his eyes, Kai paces around the other side of the table.
He thoughtfully scrutinizes the buffet. “Perhaps this is the test.”
“I don’t think so.” My mouth waters as I stare at the cake. “Armand is taunting me. Chocolate is my favorite. I could survive on the stuff and be totally happy never having anything else. On my birthday, Zander used to have the kitchen staff shower me with chocolate everything. Pancakes, muffins, cupcakes, drinks. Chocolate soups, even.” I lick my dry lips and accept the disappointment of this moment. “I can’t eat this food.”
“Why not?”
Throwing my hands up, I huff because the answer is obvious. “I’m hungry, but I’m not a fool. It’s probably poisoned or something.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” After laying his sword on the tabletop, Kai grabs a hunk of the cake. Just digs into it with his bare hands.
“What are you doing?” I squeak.
I can see exactly what he’s doing, but it’s so idiotic, I can’t believe he’d be that careless.
His eyes twinkle with rebellious excitement. “Finding out.”
“No.”
“Yes.” He shoves the messy bite into his mouth.
“Kai, don’t!” I shout, but it’s too late.
Ro
Kai chews vigorously, then he swallows before going back for more without a shred of caution.
With my jaw hanging open, I look at him like he’s lost his mind and his manners. Although, I’m not sure what his manners were like in the first place. Maybe he’s used to eating without utensils.
He is a warrior, after all.
But I know he’s smart enough to know better than to do this. We have every reason to assume the food isn’t safe.
As he finishes a large portion of the cake, I study his face for signs of trouble.
He’s not flushed with distress, flinching from pain, or foaming at the mouth.
“Kai?” I’m so tense, waiting for him to drop dead, and a place deep inside my chest aches from the devastation I feel at the mere idea of a world without him in it.
