Page 51 of Caged

Sylascanhandle a blade, that is abundantly clear.

He tosses the knife into the air, and the tip buries itself in the countertop as he opens up the center of the prep area and the heating element rises out.

“We’re going to be doing renovations sooner rather than later if you’re going to treat your furniture in that way,” I say.

“Some sort of board is in order.” Sylas swipes up everything and dumps it into a large wok he’s procured from underneath. “I can make one and save us a trip to the market.”

I think avoiding others is going to be a thing for him. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, given how I’ve seen him behave in company.

Years being provoked to violence is hardly going to make him Gryn of the month, and it seems he wants to keep it that way.

The food sizzles, and he shakes it, checks the rest of our supplies, and pulls out a handful of flip top containers, from each of which he proceeds to add a very precise amount of seasoning. The warm, spicy flavors fill the air, and my stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“You are hungry, little feather?” he asks, shaking the pan as if this is something he does every single day, the food flowing over itself like I’ve seen in professional cooking TV programs back on Earth. All Sylas needs is an apron and a hat.

I hide a giggle behind my hand as the big bad gladiator creates two plates in the replicator and then, with a flourish, puts the food out. It steams as he slides the meal towards me.

“What is it?” I ask, batting my eyelids.

“You watched me cook it.” His brow furrows. “It’s kiafish and vegetables. Very nutritious.”

“I mean, does it have a name?”

“The kiafish? Probably not, it is a fish.” Sylas spears a chunk on a single claw, blows on it, and pops it into his mouth.

“I mean the dish you made.” I laugh.

“Are you going to talk, little mate, or do I have to feed you directly?” Sylas growls.

I pick up the two-pronged fork he’s given me and spear some brightly colored vegetables. The flavor explodes over my tongue, sweet, spicy, a hint of salt.

“This is so good!” I exclaim, chewing rapidly so I can eat some more. “You’re hired.”

SYLAS

Iam feeding my female. Alex deserves the very best, to be pampered and protected. She loves watching me prepare food, and I love doing it for her.

I’m significantly better than I thought I would be and I like using the knife. It has become our ritual before the sun sets. I create a meal, she studies me closely, inspecting and approving, like she does when I make changes to her nest, and then we sit outside, her nestled in my arms, and we eat.

Contentment.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Alex says, holding up the piece of clothing she was going to put on her top half, covering her delicious breasts.

There are several holes, like a Lepke has been at it. The fluttery species has a penchant for fibers. Only I know there’s no Lepke in my nest or my dwelling. I would sniff them out and dispose of them for daring to breach my boundaries.

“Why not go without?” I suggest, tucking my arm behind my head and enjoying the view.

It gets even better when Alex puts her hands on her hips and her tits jiggle nicely.

“This is one of two I have, Sylas,” she scolds. “The other one Haxrix gave me and it’s too small. I’ve got nothing else,” she laments.

I look around our nest, but I haven’t included any clothing for my little feather. It seems whatever drove me to gather the items decided things which twisted and flashed in the light were more important. I growl to myself.

“Then…we will go to…Ryle and get some clothing?” I speak the words even though my brain is objecting to them.

“We could do with other supplies too,” Alex says, picking up the other clothing for her top half and pulling it on.

It is indeed too small and tight on her. Clinging to her delicious curves as she tugs it down.

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