Page 81 of A Ballad of Beasts and Brothers

Shaye

"This… is… good," Ronan says between chews. From his hesitation to swallow the chocolatey bite, I know the birthday cake I made last night is shit. "You made this all by yourself?"

My entire face heats, but I nod, claiming the monstrosity. I dare a quick glance around the dining room table. Everyone else silently forks through their slices and I can sense their reluctance to finish their plates. I finally muster the strength to take a bite. It's grainy and dry and yet somehow mushy? I don't think I can swallow this morsel, let alone eat the entire slice, and I would feel eternally guilty if I let the rest of them power through it to spare my feelings. I turn to look at Nyx but before I have the chance to ask him what he thinks of it, he grimaces and discreetly spits the mouthful into his napkin and sets his fork on his plate.

"I can't eat this, Kitarni." He wipes the crumbs from his tongue.

"Nyx," Eris chides.

"I'm sorry, I really am, but I just can't stomach it." He pushes the plate away, looking queasy. "I'm too hungover to force myself to eat this."

"It's a great attempt for your first time alone," Finn smiles at me, though I can see the pain in his eyes. "With a little more practice, you'll be better than me!"

"Nyx is right," I throw my napkin on my mostly intact slice of cake. "This is shit."

"It's most certainly not shit," Eris encourages me, forcing herself to consume another bite for emphasis, but I twist my head to Atlas on my right. If anyone is going to be honest with me, it'll be him.

"It's shit, isn't it?" I question him. He's reclining in his seat, not having touched the slice I cut for him. He quietly blows the steam from his cup of coffee and meets my inquisitive stare.

"I haven't tried it yet."

"Then try it." I take my fork and stab through his piece of cake and hold it out to him.

There is a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slowly leans forward and claims the outstretched bite. My cheeks heat as I watch his lips slip from the fork.

"Well?" My voice comes out raspy, so I clear my throat and try again, "Well?"

He chews through the morsel before swallowing and I watch his neck bob and combat the thought of licking him chest to chin.

"Do you want me to be polite or honest?" he asks; his voice ripping me from my unapologetic stare of his neck.

"Honest, always."

He brings his cup of coffee to his lips and says, "It's not good."

I slam my hand to the table for emphasis. "See," my eyes sweep over the others, "it's not good." I scoot back and shoot up from my seat, beelining for the front door.

"Where are you going?" Nyx calls after me. I can hear him scrambling to catch up, playing the dutiful bodyguard role well.

I snatch my keys off the ring and slip my jacket on. "I'm going across the street to grab us some actual birthday cake."

"That's not necessary, Shaye," Finn says sweetly. "We'll have a cake when we get to my parents' house later today anyway."

I cannot accept this failure. Yes, I'm still new to the baking world, but that's all I have to offer Finn for his birthday. I don't have any money to my name here. I can't run around town on a shopping spree and nab up every gift Finn deserves. Hell, I can't even buy him a proper birthday cake from the bakery across the street. Defeated, I slowly hang my keys and shimmy out of my jacket but stop short when Atlas says, "Tell Helen to send me the bill."

"What did you say?" I whisper, attempting to fight the sadness constricting my throat.

He turns in his seat just enough for me to catch his line of sight. "I said, tell Helen to send me the bill. Get whatever you want in there."

What he isn't saying, but I see in his eyes, is he knows how much this means to me and he'll do whatever he can to make it happen.

"Thank you." I grab my keys once more and Nyx and I slip out the door.

Once we cross the street and open the door to the bakery, the little golden bell rings to announce our arrival and the smell of the pastries fills my nostrils. Chocolate, vanilla, apple, blueberry, raspberry, caramel – you think of a flavor, Helen probably has it available.

Treats might be my favorite place in the city, not because of the delicious desserts, but because it looks like it was plucked straight out of a fairytale. Red and white checkered tile floors, a glass case that runs the length of the shop filled to the brim with whatever baked good your heart desires, and a handful of two-top white tables with green velvet chairs tucked underneath. Glass chandeliers hover above and folded boxes varying in sizes line the floating wooden shelves up and down the wall. If I could sit in here all day, eating pastries and drinking coffee, while watching people go about their daily routines through the massive windows overlooking the park and the Harland House, I would.

Today though, I ignore the tempting apple turnovers and raspberry filled cupcakes, and head straight to the checkout stand to see if Helen can be my birthday cake salvation.

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