Page 42 of Kiss for My Kraken
“Always,” she promised, then added with a mischievous smile, “Besides, I have my river prince watching over me, don’t I?”
“Always.”
He disappeared beneath the surface, a swirl of silver and darkness in the clear water. She stood on the dock for a long moment, her fingers pressed to her lips where she could still feel the pressure of his kiss.
Finally, with Ozzie at her heels, she turned and made her way up the path to her shack. She moved through her morning routine with unusual energy, humming as she showered and changed for her shift at the tavern. Even Ozzie seemed to pick up on her mood, prancing around her with playful excitement.
“You like him too, don’t you?” she asked the dog as she pulled on her jacket. “Our river prince.”
Ozzie barked once, as if in agreement, making her laugh.
The walk to the tavern was filled with small wonders she hadn’t fully appreciated before—the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, the cheerful sound of birds calling to each other, the rich scent of earth and river water. The world seemed sharper, more vibrant, more alive.
Or maybe I’m the one who’s more alive, she thought, with a lightness in her heart that was entirely new. She caught a flash of silver in the river that ran alongside the path and a smile curved her lips.
Her river prince. Her protector. Her love.
CHAPTER 19
“Order up! Table twelve!”
Nina grabbed the loaded plates from the pass-through window and loaded them onto a tray. The savory aroma of garlic and herbs rose from the hearty dishes, making her mouth water despite having sampled the special earlier.
“Need a hand with those?” George asked, his golden eyes flicking momentarily from the beer taps.
“Got it covered,” she said with a confidence that would have surprised her former self. Although she still preferred working in the kitchen, she’d also taken a few shifts as a server when Annabelle or Molly couldn’t make it in.
She wove easily through the packed tables with the heavy tray. The lunchtime crowd at the Moonlight had grown steadily since she’d started working in the kitchen and word had spread about her additions to the menu.
As she delivered the plates to a werewolf couple at the table by the door, the female grinned at her, revealing intimidating fangs.
“This looks amazing,” she said, her eyes gleaming with appreciation. “I heard you’ve been adding your own touch to the cornbread.”
“Just a little honey and jalapeño. Nothing fancy.”
“Well, it’s delicious. We come in twice as often now.” The female winked. “My mate would eat it every day if I let him.”
Moments like these still caught her off guard—the casual acceptance, the easy banter, the sense of being not just tolerated but valued. Back in Haven’s Grace, she’d been taught to keep her head down, to be invisible, to serve without expectation of recognition. Here, her contributions were acknowledged and even celebrated.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, her cheeks pink as she returned to the kitchen.
Ben was hunched over the grill, his ears twitching as he flipped burgers. Despite his perpetually grumpy demeanor, she’d learned to read the subtle shifts in his mood. Today, his ears were angled slightly forward—a good sign. When they flattened completely against his head, that’s when they all knew to tread carefully.
“Twelve’s sorted,” she reported. “I’ll start prepping the appetizers for tonight now.”
Ben grunted as she moved to the prep station and started pulling out vegetables.
“Nina!” Annabelle’s blue head poked through the door, iridescent wings shimmering. “Molly’s running late. Can you cover her section for another fifteen minutes?”
“Sure thing,” she replied, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ben, can the apps wait?”
Another grunt, this one slightly more irritated but still within acceptable parameters as she slipped out of the kitchen.
The lunch rush was winding down, but several tables still needed attention. She moved between them, refilling drinks, clearing plates, and answering questions about the menu with the expertise of someone who’d been there for years rather than weeks.
At table seven, a mixed group of humans and Others were engaged in an animated discussion about the upcoming Halloween festival, Elara among them.
“Nina!” Elara waved her over. “Perfect timing. We need an unbiased opinion. Is it better to have the fortune-telling booth near the food stalls or by the duck pond?”
