Page 38 of Pain

“Hell Cricket?” Omaera asked, her voice going up several octaves. “How big is a Hell Cricket?”

“Size of a chihuahua, I’d say,” Kenvin replied with a casual shrug. “Very high in protein. They farm them here. Noisy fucking beasts though. So the farms are in the desert … Moving on. These here,” he pointed to the various biscuits, crackers, and scone-like things on a platter, “crackers and biscuits. Made with Hell Cricket flour. The scones have blankberries in them.” He jerked his chin at the bear. “He can attest to the fact that they don’t taste like anything, but at least they don’t taste awful.”

None of this sounded appetizing at all so far.

“The jelly there is blankberry jelly. Goes on the biscuits, or cookies, or whatever you want to call them there.” He pointed his finger at the different foods. “And then we have fried gorbath eggs.” They looked like normal eggs, except the center wasn’t a bright yellow, it was gray and incredibly unappealing.

“What is a gorbath?” Omaera asked, though it didn’t seem like she really wanted to know.

Kenvin met her gaze and frowned like she’d morphed into the creature herself. “Flightless bird. Ugly as hell, mean as hell. Size of a very large house cat—maybe twenty or thirty pounds. They hunt in packs and attack like piranhas. They have gray feathers, razor-sharp teeth in their beaks, long, large talons used for gouging, and their wingtips have barbs on them. A bitch to pluck, honestly. But the eggs taste good.”

“Good?” I asked.

Kenvin lifted one shoulder. “Good-ish.”

Omaera made a face of disgust. “And do I even want to know what this is?” She pointed to what had to be some kind of fruit—at least I hoped it was a fruit.

“Those are cave currents,” Kenvin said, reaching forward and using the spoon to scoop a handful of about eight into his palm. He tossed them all into his mouth, making a face like he’d just bit into a lemon. “They’re sour as hell, but they won’t kill you.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Good for you too.”

Omaera reached forward and picked one cave current out of the bowl, holding the cherry-sized berry between her thumb and forefinger. “Well, when in Hell …” She popped it into her mouth and bit down, instantly making a face of regret. She shook her head and shut her eyes as the muscles in her neck strained. “You never told me that when you … when you bit into it, a weird, gooey center shoots out into the back of your throat.” Tears formed in her eyes as she continued to chew, then finally swallow.

I handed her the bottle of water, and she chugged it, glaring at Kenvin.

The grumpy old demon merely shrugged again. “Guess I just forgot that part. Anyway, eat up. We have training to do.” Then he took off out of the kitchen, but not before grabbing a few more cave currents for the road.

“FuckingHell,” I muttered, dipping my pinky finger into the gray goop that was supposedly Hell Cricket porridge. Reluctantly, I sucked the sludge off my finger, preparing for the worst.

It wasn’t good.

But it was also better than I was expecting. Mind you, I’d set the bar prettydamned low at this point. I scooped some of the porridge into a smaller bowl, then topped that with blankberry jelly and a few of those cave currents. “Suppose coffee is out of the question in Hell. Hmm?”

“Probably tastes like garbage if there is,” Zandren murmured, filling up a bowl with all the things for himself. He focused on Omaera. “I’ll stay here as long as you need to, Little One, but hopefully it’s not fortoolong. I’ll start losing weight soon and that’s not good.”

I snorted. Drak rolled his eyes and grabbed a few scones and jelly for himself.

Omaera followed my lead and made herself some porridge, jelly, and currents. Then we all took our breakfast—if you could even call it that—to the long picnic table set out in the courtyard.

I sat next to my queen while Zandren sat across from me, and Drak sat beside him. We were all quiet as we ate, ravenous from our journey yesterday and not really caring too much about how we satisfied our groaning bellies.

“So,” Zandren started, staring at me, “you wanna tell us about why you’ve been to Hell before?” He lifted a brown brow at me, sending the obvious message that he already knew why.

A part of me was relieved. Omaera knew, and that was what mattered most. But the fact that the bear—and probably the vampire—knew too, took some weight off my shoulders. I wasn’t necessarilyreadyto talk to them all about it, but apparently the bear was the rip-the-bandage-off kind of dude.

“I’m guessing you know why,” I said, taking a scoop of the sludge and shoveling it into my mouth.

“I do, but I’d like to hear it from you,” Zandren said, shifting his gaze to Omaera for a moment.

“The Queen knows,” I said. “I have no secrets from her.” My gaze flicked over to Drak. “I don’t keep secrets from my mate.”

The vampire’s icy-blue stare was trying to slice through me, but I wouldn’t let it. I scoffed, shook my head, and broke eye contact. His hill to die on then. That just made it easier for me to bond with my queen.

Omaera fixed the bear with a sharp look. “I know that Maxar’s parents are criminals incarcerated for planning a mass human genocide centuries ago.They’ve been imprisoned in Hell ever since. He’s come here twice to see them. It was my father—and your father, Zandren—who helped thwart their efforts and put them away.” She moved her gaze to Drak. “I don’t judge him for the crimes of his parents. If that were the case, then shouldn’t I be judging you for the crimes of yours?”

My hand slid to her thigh beneath the table and I gave it a squeeze of appreciation. It was never easy talking about my parents, even after all this time. But having a mate who stood up for me the way my queen did, that she saw the good in me, rather than the tainted blood that ran through my veins, was more than I could ever hope for. And certainly more than I thought I deserved. I already knew that I’d never be worthy of her, but I planned to spend the rest of my life trying to be.

Zandren grunted and resumed eating, pushing food into his cheek to speak. “No, we shouldn’t. I just wanted to make sure that you were aware. And I wanted the mage to be the one to tell you.”

“He did,” she said gently before facing me, her eyes turning soft. “I’ll support you either way. If you want to go see them, or not. I’m here for you. I will go with you if you want. And we will face the Mage Council, and any potential repercussions from your visit, together.”

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