Page 198 of Barbi and the Villain

The moment I open the door to the lighthouse, a delicious smell of roast meat wafts toward me, making me salivate.

I am on autopilot as my feet lead me to the kitchen on the first floor where Nykander is arranging the dinner table with a variety of dishes. There are bowls filled with soup, roasted meat, and vegetables as well as warm bread.

“Come eat,” he says when he sees me stare at the food.

“Damn it, I am ravenous, Nyk,” I blurt out as I take a seat. I don’t even wait for him as I dig in, eating a mouthful of meat and washing it with soup. I take a little of each, stuffing my mouth as if this is the last meal I’m ever going to have. But with the way my body has been consuming energy recently, I doubt this will be enough.

“Easy, Barbs.” Nykander chuckles.

“You spend an entire day training and then eat slowly,” I mutter in between bites.

“How did the last round go?”

“The same.”

“Do not worry too much. It will happen,” he mentions as he pats me gently on the shoulder.

I glare at him, but it only serves to amuse him further.

My portion is not enough, and I finish everything within minutes. Nykander gives me seconds, then thirds.

“You certainly worked an appetite,” he jokes when he pours the last of the soup in my bowl.

“I’ve never eaten so much in my life,” I say, my mouth filled with food. I am the least ladylike woman in this moment, and if my mother saw me, she would have a fit. But if I am training like a soldier, then maybe I am allowed a respite from those socially constructed standards.

“I have dessert, too,” Nyk says.

“Chocolate?”

He shakes his head.

Taking the dishes from the table, he uses his tentacles to wash them in the sink while he extends his arm toward me.

“Feed, Barbs. You need it.”

I gulp down. Not only do I need it, but I crave it.

With how grueling the training has been lately, Nykander has fed me his blood daily. He rarely takes more than a few drops from me a day, saying I need all the energy to work.

Although his blood works wonders on my stamina, refreshing both my mind and body, the fact that he hasn’t fed directly from my neck in so long has put a damper on our growing intimacy.

We sleep together. We sometimes kiss. But we haven’t done more than that. Of course, the moment I hit the pillow, my eyes are closed, so it’s hard to muster up the energy for bedroom activities. Still, somehow I’d hoped that when we got here, we’d be able to move things along a bit faster.

Though I had been the one to suggest we take things slow, now I am the one who is impatient.

“You should go shower. I have already fed and walked the dogs. I even got Ander a new toy to chew on when I went into town,” he mentions with a smile. “I shall finish cleaning up and I will join you in bed.”

With that, he turns his back to me, effectively dismissing me.

I am too tired to pick a fight with him for his lack of attention. Dear Lord, but I’m becoming as needy as Ander, requiring words of affirmation every five seconds to know I am loved.

Speaking of love. Has Nykander ever said the words to me before?

My brows draw together as I try to remember.

I slowly walk up the stairs, wobbling every now and then from the ache in my muscles. When I reach the third floor and get inside the bathroom, I still have not found an answer to that question.

He has mentioned time and time again that he feels something for me, but has he defined that something?

---