Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure what I’d find. Maybe an open fire or something to match the rest of the castle’s medieval feel?
But this kitchen looks super modern, like something out of a restaurant. There are shiny stainless steel countertops, every appliance you could want, and several large double sinks. Plus, if I’m right. . . that’s a walk-in fridge in the back. For the first time in hours, I smile.
I crack the door and grin wider. Oh, hell yeah. It is a well-stocked walk-in with everything from a small supermarket’s worth of fresh fruit and vegetables, along with a lot of other stuff. Meat, eggs, fish. And desserts. Cake. Cheesecakes of several varieties. Damn. Someone’s got a sweet tooth.
Putting a hand on my rumbly stomach, I know I’m not really in the mood for anything sweet, so I pull back out of the fridge and turn around. Right beside the walk-in, I thought I saw—yep, a small pantry area full of all sorts of artisan-looking breads. Perfect.
I grab some fluffy sourdough and head back into the fridge for some cold cuts and mayo. Finally, in the cool basement kitchen, I make myself a sandwich.
Right as I open my mouth and take a bite, guess who shows up in the doorway?
That’s right. Big asshole with wings and a tail.
I only choke a little on my bite, but then, determined to be cool after our last interaction, continue chewing and don’t hurry at all.
He stays in the doorway, a dark silhouette in the otherwise brightly lit room. “I’m glad you’re making yourself at home,” he says.
I can’t read him. For once, he’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look upset, either.
If it was Michael, my ex, he’d be sending some sort of signal that he was still mad at me for my outburst earlier. That was what he called it when I did or said anything he didn’t like. An outburst. His subtle, not-so-subtle way of keeping me in line so I was the perfect little girlfriend who worked her ass off to please him at all times.
I arch an eyebrow and catch even more of an attitude, determined never to be that weak woman ever again.
“I got hungry,” I say, my mouth half-full of food. Another thing that Michael hated. Half-masticated food should never be seen.
He was a guy who had a lot of shoulds and should-nots for the women he dated.
I take another big bite of my sandwich.
Remus only tilts his head and watches me with what looks like interest. “I’m curious to learn all about your wants and desires. I realize it may be. . . difficult for me to always. . .” His eyes stay on me, but I feel the reticence in his manner as he tries to say what he’s trying to say, something I can sense is unusual.
I swallow my bite. “What’s difficult?” I ask a little less belligerently. Maybe all the wine in my system is softening me a little toward him. And knowing that if it was Michael, he’d be doubling down on the assholery.
“My acquaintance with humans has been in very particular contexts. I think I may need to. . . alter some of my ways. I might not always know how. Is it fair to ask for patience? I really do want to get to know you.”
I let out a deep breath. I didn’t expect this. “What context was that?”
He shrugs. “Battle.”
My eyebrows go up. I don’t know what I expected of a being thousands of years old. That he just hung out at this castle the whole time? But him being a warrior. . . My eyes track over his gigantic shoulders and huge, muscled thighs. Yeah, that makes sense.
“What kind of battles? Cause I’ve never heard of you, and I feel like the history books might have made mention of someone as, uh, unique as you.”
His grin comes back, cracking wide as he laughs.
“Oh, I’m sure you know my work. My brothers and I were there with Hannibal of Carthage, Alexander, Ceasar, and Genghis Khan. Anywhere blood was to be spilled and power to be gained, we were there to shape the destinies of men.”
I stop chewing and just barely manage to swallow my food. Uhhhh. “So you like. . . spilling blood?”
His grin goes wide, teeth a little menacing as his gaze gets a faraway haziness to it. “Armies marching as far as the eye could see, the smell of adrenaline and battle fury in the air as men are roused to war. And then, all that pent-up energy finally released with the first arrow launched and the clash of warriors or infantrymen. Then comes chaos, barely leashed as the tide turns back and forth as men fight for their lives and other foolish notions like nation and honor. In truth, they were merely pawns in a far more glorious game.”