Evaline:
The moment we stepped inside the kitchen, I was hit with the familiar scent of herbs, flour, and the lingering warmth of the ovens.
All of the kitchen staff had already retired for the night which left the massive space eerily quiet.
Alpha Kieran finally released my wrist and moved to lean against the counter, watching me expectantly.
I was still pretty much at a loss about what was happening. "You do realize you could just order a servant to make you something, right?"
"Yeah." He replied with that lazy smile still playing on his lips. "But this is more fun."
I hated how my stomach flipped at that. I knew better than to read too much into his words. Also, I was aware of the mistake I just made - I was a servant too.
I didn’t move for a while and stood there while he just kept watching me. His deep green eyes were heavy-lidded, intense in a way that made my breath hitch.
Something was so wrong here... and dangerously so.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away. "Fine," I muttered. "But don’t complain if it’s terrible."
His chuckle was low and smooth as he spoke, "I wouldn’t dare."
I exhaled slowly and turned toward the pantry to gather ingredients. But even as I moved around the kitchen, even as I tried to ignore the way his gaze was following my every movement... I couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was going to change everything.
As I collected the ingredients I needed, he settled down on one of the high stools near the counter. He kept watching me with a lazy interest. His slightly unfocused gaze made it clear that he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, but his sharpness wasn’t entirely dulled.
A voice at the back of my head kept reminding me that I shouldn’t be here... with him. Yet, something about the way he looked at me made it hard to resist the moment. There was no outright hatred, instead, he looked intrigued.
And it was rare - being in the presence of one of the brothers and not feeling like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be shoved off.
"Can you make something quick?" He asked, pulling me out of the depths of my wandering thoughts.
I hesitated before nodding. "I can."
I reached for the ingredients. My hands working on their own as I prepared a simple but filling meal. The scent of freshly chopped herbs and sizzling butter soon filled the air, mixing with the faint traces of his intoxicating scent.
"You don’t hate me the way your brothers do," I said before I could stop myself.
And much to my surprise, he chuckled before asking, "And what makes you think that?"
"You don’t glare at me like you want me dead," I muttered as I stirred the pot. "You dragged me here to cook instead of throwing me back into my chamber. That’s something, isn’t it?"
"Maybe I just wanted food." His lips curved into a smirk. "And you seemed like the perfect little kitchen maid."
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from reacting. I wasn’t a fool. He was teasing me. But at least it wasn’t cruel. Not yet.
Silence settled between us for a moment before he suddenly asked, "Why were you sneaking around so late at night?"
I immediately went stiff and my grip on the spoon tightened.
I could lie. I should lie. But my thoughts had been so tangled that, before I could stop myself, the truth was slipping past my lips.
"The academy’s entrance exam..."
His expression shifted, but just barely. He tilted his head in the slightest and his eyes narrowed in the faintest. Yet, despite how carefully he concealed his emotions, I knew I had surprised him.
"Hmm," he mused. "And why would you be interested in that?"
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I knew better to expose myself. I knew I should brush it off. But something about him made me feel like he already knew.
I turned back to the pot and stared at the simmering broth as if it held the answers to all my problems. "I want to be safe," I finally admitted softly. "I want a future. And Silver Moon Academy is the best place for that."
He said nothing, letting me continue.
"I heard it before," I went on in a much steadier voice. "You and your brothers protect your students. If I become a student, then you’ll have to protect me, too. Or at the very least, you won’t kill me."
I finally looked up at him. I was expecting to see an amused look on his face, but his expression remained unreadable.
"So that’s your plan," he finally said while leaning back against the counter.
"Yes." I exhaled. "Or at least it would be... if I even knew how to get in."
He hummed softly as his gaze flickered to the meal I was plating. "How do you plan on getting admitted?"
I paused at the question. This was the problem - I had no idea.
I didn’t know where the entrance forms were kept, how to submit them, or what the exams even entailed. The more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.
As I failed to answer, silence took over the kitchen, making the air feel heavier.
I finished cooking and quickly presented the food to him. Without a word, he picked up his fork and started eating. I was unable to tell what he was thinking, and it unsettled me.
I had just exposed my wild plan to one of the brothers. Had I just made things worse for myself? Had I signed my own death warrant?
The tension in my shoulders didn’t ease even as he spoke again, taking me by surpise by the compliment. "You are a good cook."
"...Thank you."
He continued eating until his plate was nearly empty. Then, just as I began thinking that the conversation had ended, he set down his fork and leaned forward.
"I’ll help you."