Page 30 of Hunting Their Omega

“Who made this?” I asked, referring to the spread on the table.

It looked more like a feast than an evening meal. Two buttery roasted chickens sat in the center, flanked by thick slabs of steak, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, rice, stuffed mushrooms, and baked macaroni and cheese. An array of pies, tarts, and strudels cooled nearby, looking so fresh and flaky that my mouth started to water.

I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to fill my plate, much less eat it.

Bishop raised his hand. “Guilty.”

Wynn gave an amused snort. “Did you think we survived off raw meat?”

“No, but I figured one of the females prepared your food.”

“Cooking is a basic life skill.” Alaric slung an arm around Wynn’s shoulders. “Lucky for us, we have Bishop. Otherwise, you’d be eating a very different meal right now. It would be edible, but I doubt you’d enjoy it.”

“You can’t you cook?”

“I burn everything except for breakfast.” Alaric’s smile was infectious, and I grinned back.

I turned to Wynn. “What about you?”

His expression was neutral, but his eyes flickered with embarrassment. “I’m better at baking.”

My eyes darted to the sweets. “Yours?”

He dropped his chin in admission.

“Now I’m dying to try everything,” I said, delighted by my domesticated mates. I winked at Alaric. “Don’t think I won’t hold you to breakfast.”

His grin was cocky. “Best french toast you’ll ever eat in your life.”

Wynn said a small word of thanks to the Goddess before we dug in. Bishop wasted no time gathering little bits of everything for me. He balanced the plate in his large hands, carefully loading it with the best pieces of meat. I’d never felt so cared for.

He seemed nervous when he put the plate down in front of me. He didn’t pick up his fork, and it took me a moment to understand that he was waiting for me to take a bite. I tasted everything so I could give him my opinion.

“Better than anything I’ve ever eaten,” I finally said.

Bishop’s bright smile stretched across his face. “You’re just saying that, but thank you.”

He tucked into his dinner, and the others followed suit.

“I’m not, trust me,” I said. “The meals at the boarding house were blander than hospital food.”

The men exchanged a look I pretended not to notice.

“What did you do at the boarding house?” Wynn asked.

I focused on blocking my emotions from the bond.

“We did our daily lessons,” I began, thinking of my mind-numbing life before the Hunt. The lack of pleasure or joy was purposefully cruel. “Everyone was assigned a schedule, which was designed by the Council to teach us skills they deemed necessary.”

“Necessary for what?” Bishop asked, face deceptively soft.

I flushed, choking down embarrassment. At least one part of Laris’s accusation was correct. “Child-rearing.”

Bishop’s thick brows rose to his hairline. “And what would those skills be?”

I looked at my mates, who had been so kind. My wolf believed we could trust them without a shadow of a doubt, and I wanted to believe it too.

“Cooking, cleaning, sewing, childcare, mate care, and obedience,” I rattled off. “They also taught us basic reading, writing, and math up to a middle school level.”

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