Page 57 of Stars in Umbra
‘It is,’ he said, his voice dropping to a solemn tone. ‘Feeding someone, caring for them, that’s sacred, a value my mother taught me. Tis my way of honoring the living.’
A soft pause stretched between them, laden with the heft of his simple, profound statement.
‘You do it well,’ she murmured, her heart thrumming in her chest.
He gave a single nod, a silent acknowledgment, then shifted his broad frame and stood, the dark stretch of fabric drawing tight over his shoulders.
‘The next course, the mains, calls for the unexpected.’
He crossed to the bar, his movements unhurried and confident. ‘I’ll make you a cocktail that’ll pair with it.’
‘Cocktails don’t go with mains,’ she teased, resting her chin on her hand, gazing at him with amused curiosity.
‘Says who?’ he rumbled without looking back. ‘You should know by now that I’m not a man who follows rules.’
She huffed, even as she savored the sight of him.
Her traitorous eyes trailed over that delicious ass encased in sinuous material, as his hands moved with unhurried confidence, each motion measured and deft.
A careful pour of iridescent violet liqueur followed the clink of ice.
A flame ignited, flicked across a citrus peel, illuminating the side of his face in a brief, fiery glow.
He took his time, stirring the concoction, then, with one final twist of his wrist, he returned to her with his wicked presentation.
‘This,’ he said, placing the glass in front of her like a sacred offering, ‘is aBlack Comet. AnOsirianclassic that’ll fly you right into the twin suns.’
She took the crystal goblet, tilted it to catch the light. It sparkled with dark mystery, rimmed in a thin sheen of sugar and burnt zest. ‘It’s beautiful. What’s in it?’
‘Vodka, dry vermouth, ebony cherries, with a splash of bold, flower-based liqueur. If you’re not ready, it kicks.’
‘How hard?’ she added, in a murmur, a silent dare.
He smiled, slow and deliberate, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. ‘Steel hard. Like me.’
She arched a brow, their eyes dancing with a flirtatious challenge as she took a sip.
It was stunning; deep and dark, with a floral scent and a smoky burn that lingered on her tongue. ‘Stars. That’s freakin’ good.’
They ate and exchanged bites from each other’s plates, her foot brushing his under the table more than once.
With every stolen glance and shared chuckle, the world beyond their little sanctuary began to blur.
Their conversation shifted to lighter topics, the kind that helped them seem more like people and less like machines of war.
‘Hiking, huh?’ she said, surprised, when he told her he preferred mountains to cities when off duty. ‘Didn’t expect that one from you.’
He leaned back, the movement stretching his shirt over his broad shoulders while he sipped his drink. ‘Why not?’
‘You come across as city-forged. Like you grew up with walls, malls, and weapons.’
He chuckled, the sound a timbred resonance in the quiet air. ‘That’s the job. Not the man.’
‘Where have you hiked?’
‘In the best places out of Eden II, when I get the chance to travel. Huron Peaks of Rhesia, the Shards of Kiar on Sartixia, and even the Viskandar cliffs on Galicia. I almost died at the last location, but it was worth it. What about you, Colonel? How do you unwind?’
She pushed a hand through her hair while she sipped her drink. ‘I grew up on Dunia. My family ran a horse farm near the Kora Highlands in Rambasa Province. I’d take my mare out at dawn, ride until the sun was high. There were these trails, carved into the earth like veins, that wound through the trees. I’d mount with no saddle, nothing but wind and silence, loving the sensation that seemed like flying.’
