Page 107 of Monsters in Love

Ugh.

Enough of this.

Removing a layer of clothing might be foolish around these creatures, but she doubted her gown’s thick embroidery and frustratingly long sleeves would stop a demon’s claws. At least without that layer she could move more easily. With a sigh of relief, she shrugged out of the overskirt—which still left two layers of cotton covering her skin.

She stretched, appreciating her increased range of movement.

Free of the weight, able to freely roll her shoulders, she crept to the curtain and pulled it aside.

The largest of the creatures was alone in the center of the room. He was sitting awkwardly on a wooden box too small for his frame, parked before a tiny iron stove. His leathery wings were tucked together at his back, the ends resting on the floor. A thin curl of smoke drifted to the rafters above. Huge shoulders hunched forward, it stirred a cracked pot and flipped a biscuit over on a heated stone slab.

Was the monster making herbreakfast?

A tiny gasp escaped her.

His enormous ears perked up, swiveling to her direction.

“You are awake,” he rumbled quietly, without taking his gaze from the stove. “Are you hungry?”

“I…” Belle drew in a breath. “Yes, I think I am.”

Straightening her shoulders, she left the relative comfort of the nook and pulled the curtain closed behind her. The longer her sister was able to rest, the better. Belle would also ensure there was food left over. For now, she’d eat and hopefully get some answers from their host.

She crossed to the stove and found a small stool positioned across the fire from the creature. She paused beside the piece, unsure if she should sit or wait for a more explicit invitation.

Was there etiquette for sharing breakfast with a demon?

“Tea?” he asked in that low rumble.

Gods, why did that tone do things to her insides?

Clearing her throat, she said, “Please.” She slowly took a seat on the stool and accepted a clay mug full of steaming liquid. The vessel looked tiny in his hand, but was perfectly normal in her palm. Perhaps she was foolish to take drinks from a demon, but if this massive creature wanted to harm her, he’d hardly need to trick her with a hot beverage.

She inhaled deeply, letting the soothing scent fill her senses, and glanced at him over the rim of the cup. “How is there tea here?”

He rolled his shoulders. “There’s lots of things down here.”

“Or up,” she said, offering a tiny smile.

His mouth flickered upward at the edges. “As the case might be.”

Taking a sip, she studied her surroundings. A box of supplies sat to the side of the stove, and a small pile of books lay beside the window. The light pouring through the stained glass had grown brighter, and an almost exact replica of the pattern stretched across the floor in a straight line.

“My goodness,” she gasped. “Is it noon?”

“Nearly,” the creature grunted.

Gods. She’d slept for hours.

She searched the room, needing to locate the second creature. “Where… where is your smaller friend?”

“Out seeking supplies,” her host rumbled. “Here.”

Her gaze snapped back to the creature to find him offering her a biscuit with a make-shift pair of wooden tongs. Steam rose from the freshly-cooked piece. It might be too hot for many to touch, but her fingers were tough from years spent baking rolls

“Thank you.” She took the biscuit carefully and cradled it between her hands.

It was oddly familiar, this experience of sitting beside a fire and eating stone cakes beside an enormous male. She’d made these exact biscuits with Thomas when he worked long days in the fields—and she’d been able to escape her mother’s kitchen. Simple and quick to make, he’d declared the cakes ideal for a farmer and had insisted she teach him the recipe.

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