Page 101 of The Blood Witch

“Puppy, put it down, you don’t have to?—”

The last of it went into Jasper’s mouth.

“He doesn’t have to, what?” Fey asked, turning on Alastair, eyes flaring. He was acutely aware of the knife still clutched in her hand.

Jasper, sweet stupid Jasper, swallowed hard, his eyes watering. And then he did the most remarkable thing.

He held out his plate for seconds.

“More,” he requested, unshed tears in his eyes. “Please.”

“For Goddess's sake,” Alastair muttered, watching in horror as Fey took the plate, grinning. She shot him a smug look before turning back to the dish, ready to serve up another slice. “Witchling, have some compassion. You cannot make him eat any more of that.”

“You are such a brat,” Fey informed him. “He liked it. And it’s not bad at all. I’m sure it’s fine.”

To demonstrate, she took a fork from the counter and cut a bite off for herself. “It’s just a little burnt, is all.”

She brought the fork to her mouth, and the moment her mouth closed around it, her face changed. A shudder went through her body before she pivoted, leaning over the sink to spit it out.

“It’s revolting,” she gasped, turning on the tap to wash her mouth and spit water back into the sink. “Jasper, you ate that?”

He did. He ate an entire slice. Alastair watched, amazed, as the Wolf just shrugged.

“You made it,” he said, by way of explanation.

Fucking remarkable.

Still leaning over the sink, Fey groaned. “Why was it so salty?”

“I wondered about that, too,” Jasper admitted.

Sighing, Alastair scooped up the meal, glass dish and all, and dropped it in the trash. He needed a drink. Uncorking a bottle of red wine, he poured a glass for himself and a particularly full one for Fey.She took it from him with a small murmur of thanks, gulping some down immediately to wash the taste from her mouth.

“There’s beer, if you’d like,” he informed Jasper, nodding toward the icebox. The Wolf didn’t hesitate. Tearing the cap off, he downed his first one in one go, stopping to catch his breath for a moment before opening another.

“Alastair, you’ll need to cook later, but my appetite is ruined,” Fey said, taking a sip of her wine.

Alastair chuckled. “Anything for you, Witchling.” He set his own glass of wine down, reaching out to take hers as well. “But I can think of a way we can work up an appetite…”

He pulled her toward him, brushing her hair out of her face.

Goddess, he loved the way she responded to him. Fey’s pupils widened and her breathing quickened. Just a few touches were all it took to have her panting for him.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, licking her lips in anticipation.

“Oh, I have all sorts of things in mind,” he promised her. “Provided you haven’t actually poisoned our guest.”

Leaning against the counter, Jasper chuckled.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, boss, I’m fine,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“Good,” Alastair said. Running his hands over Fey’s body one last time, he stepped back, turning toward Jasper. “Because you owe me an apology, puppy.”

“For what?” Fey asked, irritation in her voice.

“Stay out of this, Witchling,” Alastair warned, ignoring Fey’s exasperation. He took a step toward him, enjoying the fear that crept into Jasper’s eyes.

“Did you think you could call me out like that, in my own club, without any consequences?”

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