Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar, #2)(17)

Torin slid the bird onto the table, and I hurried over to the wooden bench.

At one point, I did have manners, but they’d died in the cell several days ago, so I simply ripped off one of the thighs and started gnawing it like a caveman.

“Slowly, little demon.”

Never in my life had I tasted anything so divine. This was the food of the gods, rich but delicately spiced. Where did Torin learn to cook? I would have imagined a king would never have to bother. Of course, he really did seem to like looking after people, and cooking was the perfect way to do it.

The heat seared my tongue, but I couldn’t get enough.

“Ava,” Torin said quietly in a warning.

“Fine.” I forced myself to slow down and took a sip of the port. I sighed. “It’s almost like being home, isn’t it?” But something rang false about it, like I was trying too hard to ignore everything that had happened in the dungeon. And with the words out of my mouth, all the horrors of the past week slammed back into my thoughts. The utter lack of control. The pain of my infected shoulder, and the wild desperation of thinking I was dying alone, that no one would come for me. Even if I’d been born here and this little cottage was cozy, this horrible realm was nothing like home. Sharp talons of homesickness found their home in my heart, piercing me until I hardly wanted to eat anymore. I stared at the table, trying to school my expression. Where was that cheeriness I’d been able to muster a few minutes ago?

“What do you usually eat in that bar?” Torin sipped his wine. “The one where I met you? Is that a regular spot for you?”

I blinked at him, struck by the banality of the question when my thoughts had spiraled off on such a wild tangent. When I caught his eye, I had the impression that he’d been able to precisely read the look on my face or had detected the slight crack in my voice when I’d said home. And he must have realized how desperately I craved normalcy at that moment.

Shocking, how easily he could read what I needed.

“Yes,” I answered at last. “I went there a lot with Shalini. Taco Tuesdays, especially. But I was usually broke, so I got nachos. They were cheaper.” Never in my life would I have guessed my voice would one day crack with emotion at the word nachos, but here we were.

“Nachos,” he repeated slowly. I had a feeling he had no idea what they were, but he was trying to play along. “Will you have this again when you return home?”

“With Shalini.” I blinked, trying to clear the tears from my eyes. “But this food is amazing, Torin. I feel confident in saying it’s the best thing you’ve ever done.” I licked my fingers—a disgusting habit, and something I never would have done if I hadn’t been starved for a week.

Lightning flashed, and a few moments later, rain started to hammer against the window. Outside, a storm picked up.

“Where do you plan to sleep, by the way?” I asked.

“Out here.”

“On the floor?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I’d have to approach this carefully. The truth was, I didn’t want the guilt of a battered hero sleeping on stone while I had the cozy bed, but I couldn’t just come out and say that he needed looking after. He’d immediately reject it.

I frowned at him. “I’d feel better if you and I were in the same room. For one thing, I might need you to protect me from another monster. And also, I’ll get cold.”

His blue eyes glowed brighter. “First the bath, and now you’re inviting me to bed?”

“For safety reasons. I know you’re saving yourself for marriage, but I’m sure you can restrain yourself around me.”

“First of all, I said no such thing about saving myself. Second, I can restrain myself, changeling.” A lazy smile curled his lips. “But you, on the other hand? I saw how you looked at me in the bath. Beautiful muscles, I think you said.”

I pulled another piece of meat off. I hadn’t managed to find any cutlery. “Oh, bless your heart. I was looking at you as food. Just like I think this pheasant has beautiful thighs.”

He arched an eyebrow, pinning me with his intense gaze under thick black eyelashes. The warm light danced over his sculpted cheekbones. “Fine. Bed it is.”





I crawled under the covers, sinking into the most comfortable, downy-soft bed I’d ever seen. My thigh muscles felt cramped and exhausted, but my body was cocooned in softness, melting into the bed itself. And with the rain pattering against the window, my eyes were already starting to close.

But they snapped open when I heard Torin enter the room, his dark hair ruffled. Still, he somehow looked model-perfect in the silvery light, and he’d already taken off the small shirt. In fact, now he was wearing nothing but one of the pairs of shorts I’d found, shorts that were extremely tight. Low on his hips, they showed off every inch of his cut abs.

Was he doing this on purpose to prove something? Given the devilish look in his eyes, I’d say yes.

I closed my eyes, his words from Faerie echoing in my mind.

Because if it were you and me, in the oak grove on Beltane, I would have you screaming my name. Calling me your king. I would have your body responding to my every command, shuddering with pleasure underneath me, until you forgot the human world existed at all…

He ran a hand through his hair as he approached the bed, his eyes locked on me in a way that made heat swoop through my belly.