Page 65 of Dance of the Phoenix
“Thanks,” I said, smiling back sleepily as I grabbed a bottle of AB plus and headed to the coffee station. With a hot mug ready, I rejoined Magnus in the kitchen and said, “I could help you, if you want.”
“Nah.” He shrugged. “I like cooking. And besides, you have a Hecatomb to worry about. Leave the cooking in the next couple days to me and the others.”
That made my smile widen. “If I didn’t have Ragnor, I would’ve fallen for you right here, right now.”
“Fallen for who?”
Sleepiness evaporating, I whirled around to see Ragnor entering the room from a different door than the male and female residences—meaninghe probably had his own room, being a Lord and all. Despite that, however, he seemed far more tired than I’d ever seen him, with heavy bags under his eyes and paler skin than usual.
Worried, I put aside the coffee and strode toward him, grabbing his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, a sense of urgency making my heartbeat quicken.
He gazed at me and, to my shock, pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “All’s well, baby,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing tight.
Unsure what to do with this sudden public display of affection, I hesitantly hugged him back and held him. When I felt him growing heavier, and his breaths turning deeper, I realized he had just fallen back to sleep while draped over me.
“Magnus, a little help?” I squeaked as I attempted to hold myself still and not cave under his weight.
With a sigh, Magnus helped me put Ragnor down on the sofa. When I stared at his sleeping face, I couldn’t help but murmur foul-temperedly, “What did he bother waking up for?”
Magnus returned to the kitchen with a scoff. “He obviously wanted to see his honey bunny.”
I scrunched my nose. “Don’t ever say ‘honey bunny’ ever again, Magnus. It’s unbecoming.”
He chuckled while flipping omelet after omelet on a pan. “Blimey, Miss Henderson,” he said with a fake, exaggerated British accent. “I know the decoration is rather inspiring, but do please contain yourself, and do not speak posh words likeunbecoming.”
I choked out a laugh despite myself. “It’s not a posh word, you dolt.”
Grinning, Magnus did not reply and resumed his cooking. In the meantime, I sat on the sofa next to Ragnor and, in a split-second decision, put his head over my thighs and caressed his face, combing his unruly hair.
Slowly, the League members trickled into the room. I felt their eyes on Ragnor and me, but I didn’t care; I loved touching Ragnor andcomforting him as he slept, and if anyone thought anything about that, I couldn’t care less.
I saw Jada walk into the lounge some time later, joining Magnus in the kitchen to help with breakfast, along with some other spectators who jumped in. She still seemed emotionlessly weary, but it was nice to see she could at least function well enough to move around and even cook.
A large dining table, which had been pushed to the wall up until now, was placed in the middle of the lounge, surrounded by chairs and set for breakfast. When it had filled up with Magnus’s and his impromptu cooking crew’s dishes, I knew it was time to wake up my boo. “Ragnor,” I murmured, leaning down so I could kiss his temple. “Breakfast’s ready.”
He squeezed his eyes shortly before his lids rolled up, revealing his stunning midnight blues. His sleepy gaze focused on me and a soft, sexy, and almost boyish smile stretched his lips. “Hey.”
My heart fluttered at the sight. “Hey,” I whispered back, unable not to smile back.
He rolled to his side, burying his face in my abdomen and wrapping his arms around me. “Give me five minutes.”
As if to reply, my stomach growled, causing him to chuckle. Flushing a bit, I gently rolled him back to his back. “I don’t think I can wait that long,” I said sheepishly.
He grinned, stretched, and sat up. “All right, then. Breakfast it is.”
We sat down at the table, and I was still aware that most members were openly staring at us. Though their gazes were piercing, I did my utmost to ignore them as I piled some eggs and bacon on my plate.
Despite the tension of the looming Hecatomb, breakfast was surprisingly relaxed. I chatted quietly with Isora, who sat next to me, while Ragnor, who sat on my other side, spoke with Magnus about making a cooking schedule for the next three days.
Once breakfast was over, it was time for us to head to the arena. And the relaxed, almost familial atmosphere from before shifted immediately.
By the time we entered the arena to head to our assigned gallery, most seats were already occupied by spectators from other Leagues. I looked around as Margarita, following the butler, led us to our assigned seats.
“Participants,” the butler said when we arrived, “you shall occupy the first row in your participatory pairs.”
Following that instruction, we participants sat down next to our assigned partners. Ragnor took the seat at the end of the row, with Magnus and Margarita right behind him.
A movement from the opposite side of the arena made me raise my eyes. More vampires trickled in, and when I squinted, trying to see who they were, I saw a spot of platinum-colored hair that made my heartbeat quicken.
