Page 108 of A Trial of the Heart

Lydia, the lead kitchen staff member, was the first to speak. “Skylar.” She stood up straight, matching my height with her shoulders back and head held high. I could see her nostrils slightly flare as a look of surprise flashed over her expression before quickly fading away.

“Good morning,” I said softly, trying to smile. “Or maybe afternoon?”

Lydia glanced at the other kitchen staff as they began whispering to each other with quick nods.

“That’s enough,” Lydia snapped. Her hazel eyes as sharp as the knives she wielded. I would have probably mistaken her for a Silver Meadows warrior if she didn’t have flour constantly splattered on her face and apron.

“My lady,” she said, turning toward me with a bow of her head.

My lady?Okay, what was going on? I stared blankly at her with an arched brow, unsure of what to do or say in reply.

“Would you like us to cook you something or to clear the kitchens?” Lydia asked, her head still bent low.

“Y-you don’t have to leave your workstations,” I stammered, not wanting to put anyone out of place. “Please don’t feel obligated to do something just for me. I was coming in to prepare a meal like I’ve done every day this past week. You don’t have to leave on my account.”

Lydia straightened and whipped her head around. “Clear out. Lady Skylar wishes to utilize the kitchen.” She returned to me, giving me a kind smile and another bow as the others filed out behind her. “We’re just cleaning up from breakfast, my lady. It’s no trouble at all. If you or High Prince Daxton need anything, alert us, and we’ll happily oblige your request.” With that final comment, she gave me a nod and swiftly exited through the kitchen’s back doors with the rest of the staff.

That was strange.

Right on cue, my stomach rumbled. I quickly brushed off their odd behavior and started creating one of my favorite breakfast dishes. It was pirozhki time.

I snacked on apple slices while my hands kneaded the dough before placing it near the heat of the burning stovetop to rise. I would have killed to have this kitchen back home. It was an absolute dream. Once the dough began proving, I got to work dicing onions and garlic, combining them with the browning meat, needing one hour for the dough to rise before I began filling the pastries. The spices were added next, allowing the flavors to soak into the meat and fill the space with a delicious chili scent that made me think of Julia and Solace.

My back was turned to the swinging door, but I knew who was standing in the opening before I even turned around. The scent of pine with a touch of burning wildfire and open sky drifted across the spice-filled air of the kitchen. My heart raced as goosebumps danced across my arms with anticipation.

“I seem to have not fulfilled my promise to you,” Daxton purred. His voice was heavy, dark, and full of sultry promises. My toes curled in response.

I pivoted to face him, accidentally dropping the spatula. My eyes widened as I swallowed a heavy wave of need that pulsed through me like a thundering storm, making me forget all my reasons for leaving his bed.

Shirtless, Daxton casually leaned against the doorway with his large arms crossed in front of his chiseled chest. My eyes scanned his perfect body, lingering on the loose, low-hanging pants that rested just below his hips, intersecting the deep V in his lower abdomen that my eyes could not waver from. The ache between my thighs pulsed with a demand to have him inside me.

“Ahhh-hem,” he announced, clearing his voice. “Myeyesare up here, Spitfire.” I blushed and quickly tilted my gaze, biting my lower lip to keep myself steady. Dammit, I could feel the wetness building between my thighs already. “Fuck, Skylar,” Daxton cursed in a low voice that made the hairs on my neck stand straight. His muscles flexed as he inhaled a full breath, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back.

“What?” I playfully asked, bending down to pick up the spatula I dropped on the floor.

“You’re enjoying this. Aren’t you?” He groaned, opening his slitted eyes with a devilish smile. “You know … I should be scolding you for leaving the bed without me releasing you. Yet here I find you barefoot in my kitchen,” he paused, looking me over, “and still wearing my shirt?” He arched his brow. “Unfair.”

“There weren’t many options for me to change into. Or would you prefer I was naked in your kitchen? Is that the better choice?” I asked him with a mischievous smirk.

“Shifty little shifter,” Daxton snickered with a spirited heat dancing in his eyes. “I’m already arranging for your things to be brought toourroom if you don’t have any objections to the idea.”

“Our room?” I stilled, turning off the flames to allow the meat to cool before stuffing it into the dough. “Our?” A serene smile spanned my face.

Daxton uncrossed his arms, pushed away from the doorway, and sat himself on the other side of the kitchen island. Leaning forward onto his elbows, he rested his chin on his knuckles, giving me a swaggering half-grin that told me more than it should.

“Didn’t miss that one, did you?” I shook my head, giggling at how casual this all seemed when, in reality, it was the exact opposite. “Regardless of our bond not being sealed or the trials, you are my mate, Skylar. I won’t hide my feelings for you any longer. In fact, I refuse to do it.”

“Good,” I answered. “It’s about damn time. Minaeve can go kick rocks barefoot for all I care.” His chuckle put me at ease. “We’ll overcome anything together,” I added in a more serious tone.

He flashed me a full, unencumbered smile and, in a silver flash of light, reappeared next to me. He wrapped one arm around my waist while the other tilted my chin upward between his finger and thumb. His ever-watchful gray eyes scanned over the features of my face before bending to kiss my brow, then each cheek, before finally finding my lips.

I sighed, sinking into the feel of him and wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. As our kiss deepened, our breathing became heavy as I lost myself in the sweet taste of his lips. The ache in my center pulsed harder, longing and begging to be fed his magnificent cock once more.

“How are you feeling?” Daxton asked me, his own scent of arousal fueling my already blazing fire.

“Ravenous.” I sighed with a slight whimper.

“I knew I’d find you in the kitchen, and I didn’t need the threads of our bond to tell me that.” His lips ventured down to my collarbone, seductively nipping at the nape of my neck with his teeth. I threaded my fingers in his hair, clutching onto his shoulder with my other hand while my whole body trembled with pleasure.

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