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Gorgeous.

“You’re welcome.” He gulped before he sat back down and poured himself another glass of wine.

Now that my hunger wasn’t painful anymore, I savoured the second helping of the stew. It was rich and delicious, with a creamy sauce, plenty of root vegetables, and pieces of meat I couldn’t quite identify.

“They are mushrooms,” Jules told me when I inquired. “I don’t hunt in spring.”

I had a fleeting vision of him dressed in a green suit hunting game with his bow and arrow.

You’re thinking of Robin Hood, asshole.

Well at least I didn’t think of Robin Hood’s…damn.

“It’s so tasty.”

Which is exactly what you might say about Robin’s asshole.My inner monologue was having a field day.

“I’m glad you like it.”

You are not helping, pretty boy.

We finished our meal in silence, or near silence as rain lashed the windows and the wind rattled the shutters.

“I’m glad you’re safe here,” Jules told me in a quiet voice when he saw me looking out into the darkness. “I would have hated for you to get hurt.”

“Do people sometimes get hurt on your land?” I asked to gloss over how touched I was by his words.

“Occasionally. The ravines are dangerous at night.”

For a moment I was tempted to ask for details, but I didn’t want to know what he had seen.

Maybe one day.

After dinner, Jules started clearing the table, and I got up to help him. I was a bit taller than him now, and I liked moving around the spacious kitchen with him. Domestic bliss…I’d missed it. I hadn’t dated in a little over a year, and even then it had mainly been guys who wanted to score with a hockey player once, or if I was lucky, twice.

They hadn’t stayed around long enough to wash the dishes with me afterwards.

The old fashioned wrought-iron clock on the kitchen wall told me it was almost nine.

Does time pass differently in Jules’ forest?

Or had I underestimated the time I had spent trying to find my way back?

And, unusual for Upper Franconia, the storm hadn’t died down yet. I didn’t care much. Jules made me feel safe. His house was like a safe harbour in the raging sea.

“You can’t take me back to the labyrinth tonight, can you?”

Jules looked over from where he was drying his hands on a dish towel.

“I’m sorry. I thought the storm would have blown itself out by now,” he murmured, giving me a sad smile.

“It’s okay. Well, uh, do you think I can kip on your couch?”

“Certainly, Nikolai. Or you could stay in my guest room.”

“Oh, right.”

He owns a manor, of course he has a guest room.