Page 56 of Her Dark Promise

“Don’t patronize me, witch.”

I smirked. “Back to the name-calling, hunter?”

“I don’t see a reason to call you anything other than what you are.”

I didn’t have a witty retort because he was right.

Bastian had since thrown a towel over his shoulder, curly black hair falling over his eyes, wanting to go back to cooking. Actively dismissing me, yet I found myself coming closer to him. When I was a foot away, he asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“What are you cooking for us tonight?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He had something brewing over the stove, a bundle of rosemary and thyme were tied together with twine next tochopped vegetables set to the side, and he was currently washing some fresh raspberries, blueberries, and pears.

He ignored me. I sighed and walked over to stand next to him, and he stilled with the knife in hand, halfway cutting through one of the pears. He set the knife down and moved over to the large stone oven to pull out a fresh loaf of bread. I sniffed the air as the smell permeated the room. He set the bread down and then checked on whatever was boiling in the pot.

It was obvious that he was doing his best to ignore me, but I wouldn’t make it so easy for him.

“Did your mother teach you how to cook?” He didn’t reply, and we stood there in silence for a few moments. The only sound was our breathing until I surprised myself and said absentmindedly, “My mother didn’t have to do anything related to keeping up with the castle. But she loved to make ustarte bourdaloue.”

I had turned away from him as I thought about the last time Mother had baked for us, and before I could spiral into despair, he said, “I loved watching her cook in the kitchen. She would always show me each step she did and why she did it. What spices went with what foods. It was the only time…” He seemed to come back to his senses and proceeded to go back to ignoring me.

I rolled my eyes and eyed a bowl of cream on the other side of him. I smiled to myself and reached past him, brushing my breasts against his arm. I placed my finger in some of the cream that he made for dinner and brought it to my lips, sucking it off. I made a little moaning sound which made Bastian lean toward me involuntarily.

“Tell me something. Did you suck on your fingers last night? Could you still taste me on them?”

He looked away, but I looked down at his pants as they began to swell and then smirked up at him. “I don’t even have to touchyou to get a reaction out of you. You want to bend me over this counter and take me, don’t you?”

“You would let me, wouldn’t you?”

I swallowed, praying my nerves weren’t visible. He was getting too good at saying just the right thing.

“I wouldn’t.”

It was his turn to smirk and lean forward into my side, whispering in my ear, “Tell me, if I put my hands under your dress, would you be dripping?” He ground his hardened length against my body.

I returned to stare at him and we both knew it was true.

“Do you want me to touch you? Admit it.”

“No,” he snapped, as if all his senses had come back to him. “What you do to my body…it’s magic.”

I bared my teeth at him. “I already told you that I don’t do—”

“Maybe it isn’t something you’re doing, but it’s something about you. Something I have no control of.” His voice began to edge with frustration. “When I’m around you, I feel like I don’t even know who I am. You make me hate myself.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the words rested on my tongue. In an instant, I felt every shattering emotion I’d buried for years. Once upon a time, I was alone, seeking acceptance wherever I could find it. I was weak then, but not now. Why did his words burn me so much?

“Anything else you need, your grace?”

I gripped his chin with a strength he didn’t see coming, squeezing the bone and forcing him to look me dead in the eyes.

“Father didn’t raise a good boy, did he? Good boys don’t disobey or give in to fleshy temptations. Good boys follow the rules.” I laughed richly. “You don’t even know who you are, but I’ll show you.”

I pushed his chin away from me, and a muscle in his jaw ticked.

I walked back up the stairs into the dining hall, ran my hands down the red silk chemise with nothing on underneath that hugged my curves, my nipples peeking through the fabric, and leaned my hips against the edge of the table, hands resting at my sides, waiting for Callum to enter as it was sunset. I didn’t have to wait long to hear the sound of footsteps outside the door, until it was opening to reveal both Soren and my little bird. They both stopped and stared at me, most likely confused that I had arrived before them.

“Run along, scholar, I don’t think you’ll want to partake in the game I am about to play with your brother.”

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