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Nothing had ever felt so good.
We made our way to the kitchen afterward, and I sat on the countertop while he cooked for me, at his insistence. All he’d put on was a pair of underwear, and all I had on was another one of the loose dresses that were a few sizes too big.
Laith had some vegetables sizzling in a pan in mere moments, and I was watching him cook in utter fascination. He moved so smoothly, and with way more confidence than I ever had, even while cutting vegetables and grating herbs. I stumbled; he glided.
“You’re a good cook,” I told him.
He lifted an eyebrow at me, somehow managing to keep chopping the oval-shaped vegetable whose name I had never learned. “I only cooked for you once.”
“It was the best meal I’ve ever had,” I admitted, leaning up against the shelves behind me. They were strong enough not to budge despite my weight. “But the way you move tells me that this one will be just as good.”
His response—a simple smirk—had me fighting a grin of my own. “At least I don’t over-salt everything.”
“You can never have too much salt,” I corrected. “And you had a teacher; I was just throwing things in a pot in an attempt to create a meal. I had to lie about knowing how to cook to even get that job.”
His smirk vanished, and he focused on the plate. “Well, you know what happened if I made a mistake while learning to cook.”
I flinched at the memories that came back to mind.
Fuck, his mother had been cruel.
“The world is better off without her in it,” I finally said.
“In the Night Court, taking a life is the worst offense anyone or anything can commit. You know that.” He continued cooking. His voice was harsh, but I knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel. He was just… guilty. And maybe sad.
“Well where I’m from, if someone deserves to die, people team up and kill them. There’s probably a ton of money up for grabs by now, for anyone who can take out one of the Kings of Disaster. Especially the fire one. Problem is that they’re pretty much impossible to kill.”
Laith frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The leaders of my land took down an asshole who had corrupted our magic or something. When they killed him, they took his magic. It overwhelmed them, and they went insane. People in my town were always talking about trying to hunt down the fire king and kill him. If we’d had water magic, I’m sure they would’ve already tried—and probably lost their lives doing so. What’s the point of life if you know it’s never going to end, you know?”
I snagged a vegetable chunk from the pan, swearing at its heat and tossing it between my hands a few times.
“Idon’tknow that. Life is valuable to us, here.” He was shaking his head as he watched me toss the vegetable, trying not to burn my fingers any more than they already were.
Finally, the damn thing was cooled enough that I popped it into my mouth. Laith’s gaze lingered on me as I chewed, nodding in approval. “It’s just different, there,” I finally said. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt at home here.”
“You were ripped from your land and dragged here on a ship,” he reminded me, throwing some more veggies in the pan and stirring everything as he added more seasonings. “Since you’ve been free, you decided to stay at an inn while you let yourself fade to nothingness. What about that would make you feel at home?”
I shrugged. “No point in spending my last days trying to purchase a house. It’s not as if I could’ve done anything else to contribute to your society. Other than prostitution, which I wasn’t interested in, given the shitty memories it would stir up. I didn’t escape only to hand my freedom over to whichever bastard has the money to purchase time with—”
Laith’s magic swelled, cutting me off and flooding my veins.
My eyes shut as every part of me throbbed with need.
“Shit,” I managed.
Laith muttered a few curses. It took a few minutes, but his magic finally faded, and then I could breathe. The throbbing in my lady parts didn’t vanish immediately, but it did relax.
“Sorry,” he grumbled at me.
“It’s alright. Your magic is difficult to control.” I reached toward the pan, and he swatted my hand away with the wide, flat wooden stirrer he’d been using.
“You’re going to burn yourself again,” he chided.
“I’ll survive.” I reached again, and he slid my ass across the counter before I could grab anything. “Damn you,” I grumbled, smacking him lightly on the shoulder.
He caught my hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to my palm. “I should have better control than I do,” he said, as he stepped back to the stove and resumed cooking.
