Page 49 of For the Love of the Gods

I’d have to ask Rose about that one. Like a reflex, my brain reminded me that it would have to be for revenge-sake.

I snapped out of it when Rose started removing her apron next to me. She reached for a plate and I snatched it out of her hand before she could do anything with it.

“Sit,” I ordered. She looked at me like she didn’t trust me to handle her food without poisoning it. Maybe she couldn’t. Who knows.

She didn’t fight me though, just walked over to her chair and plopped down. No one said anything, but Lukas looked at me like I was insane.

I was, that was crystal fucking clear. I knew Lukas well enough to read his expressions, but I couldn’t decipher whether this one was directed at me or Rose.

Whatever, my coffee was ready and Rose’s tea was boiling.

I threw mine in a cup, keeping it black, and added a splash of milk and a teaspoon of honey to Rose’s. I dropped mine down and slid hers in front of her. She looked up at me with those pretty green eyes and gave me a half smile.

I’d figure out how to earn a full one soon enough.

I went and grabbed the pancakes and just guessed what Rose would want on hers. There was plenty of shit on the table if she didn’t like it. Based on the grand total of ten meals I’d had of hers—mostly through fucking leftovers—she didn’t seem to have that big of a sweet tooth.

I dropped Rose’s plate in front of her and then sank down in my seat, my stomach already yelling at me to get to it.

I picked up my fork and realized the table was dead silent.

“Go on,” I said, the word coming out confused. No one moved. I looked over to Rose to find her staring at her plate with her hands folded in her lap.

She blinked at it once, twice, then brought her gaze up to me.

“What?” I asked. She looked like a deer on the wrong end of a gun.

She shook her head, releasing a strand of hair from behind her ear. I clenched my fist to keep my hand by my side. Whatever it was, she didn’t say anything, and lifted her fork.

Theneverybody moved. Right, this wasn’t my house anymore. Rose cooks, Rose decides when we eat.

I silently tore into my food, waiting for the conversation to pick up so I could drink my coffee and stare at Rose in blissful silence.

“Rose, you miracle worker,” Sabina said, leaning around Sebastian to squeeze Rose’s arm.

“Really,” Jason said, with a mouth full of food, “This is so good.”

“Jason, really?” Corrina asked, waving a finger at his mouth and where a bit of pancake was about to fall out.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this offend your delicate sensibilities?”

Corrina cocked an eyebrow at Jason. “No, my perfectly appropriate sensibilities are offended by your horrible table manners.”

“Excuse me, Your Perfectness,” Jason said, moving a hand across his broad chest to drop into a dramatic bow.

Sebastian groaned, dropping down an inch in his chair and throwing his head of shaggy black hair back. “Her perfect taste is the reason why my head is pounding with the force of a thousand suns.”

“She picks good alcohol, and you knew that,” Sabina countered, her sharp, knowing blue eyes looking at Sebastian’s dropped head. “It’s your fault you decided to steal a bottle of whiskey and drink the entire thing.”

Raiden jumped in, adding fuel to the fire. “Don’t forget the part where he was running around the ballroom barefoot and singing with the grace of a dying cat.”

“No!” Rose gasped, eyes sparklingly prettily.

“I think they call them sea shanties,” Lukas offered before shoving a piece of pancake dripping in chocolate into his mouth.

“Whatever it was,” Corrina said, “It was horrible.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a good singer?” Sabina asked. “You know, as god of music and all.”

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