Page 18

WINNOW

A good sob and an hour later, I’m beckoned into the hallway by the scent of braised meat. I find Gideon in the kitchen scooping something from a tall pot into a bowl. “I know it’s late, but I figured you could stand to put something warm in your belly.”

Fucking swoon.

I’ve never had someone cook for me who wasn’t getting paid for it. My lecherous mind instantly wanders to what other warm things he can put in my belly.

You were deceived, drugged, kidnapped, and mauled by a beast mere hours ago. How can you already be a slut for this male?

As if it will somehow silence my internal reprimands, I clear my throat just as Gideon slides a ceramic bowl and steaming mug of tea in front of where I take a seat at his counter.

“I’m gonna go take a shower while you get settled. Feel free to get seconds.”

Gideon’s eyes dip to where Trigger sits on his hindquarters glancing between us. The simple act of Gideon setting his eyes on him inspires a new wave of tail-wagging.

“And don’t let puppy eyes over here fool you. He’s been fed. Well.”

Trigger seems to understand his words and lets out a whiny groan as he finally lies down beside my seat.

When Gideon’s gaze lifts to mine, he stills. His eyes rove over me, dressed entirely in his clothes and probably looking far less deranged now that my skin and hair aren’t caked with mud and blood.

“How’d you get your hair to dry so fast?”

Despite Violette’s warning, I’m too exhausted to think of a lie and also relieved that I could muster that tiny bit of magic for even the most mundane of tasks.

I can feel the glamour she put on me holding in place like a gossamer veil, but whatever the nature of this realm is, it makes me feel my connection to my power has waned to the faintest of threads–like a button holding on for dear life to an old cardigan.

“Magic.”

Gideon gives me a blank stare before leaving the kitchen as he huffs a sardonic laugh and shakes his head, muttering something about at least one of us being crazy.

It scratches at the loneliness in my chest, further inflamed by the sound of his bedroom door shutting.

A wet snout nudges my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. The sight of Trigger, happily wagging his tail, body swaying from the effort, coaxes a smile to my face.

“You think begging will work now that your daddy’s not here to reprimand you?”

Trigger’s tail-wagging accelerates, and he licks his chops as if to say, Yes. Yes, I do.

“Well, then you thought right.”

Heaving a sigh, I pick out a couple of pieces of meat for the two of us, popping one in my mouth before I toss Trigger the other.

Savory flavor bursts across my tongue. There’s no doubt this man’s cooking is nothing short of perfection, but I’m too overwhelmed from the day’s events to stomach anything more.

Within a few bites, I feel my tears renewing.

Forcing down a few more bites, I set the bowl on the ground for Trigger to finish as I take a seat on the floor beside him and say a small prayer that he doesn’t get the squirts from Gideon’s rich stew.

Affection blossoms in my heart as Trigger seems to sense my distress and juts his furry face into my neck and chest, all but climbing into my lap. Wrapping my arms around his thick, furry neck , I attempt to sniffle away my tears.

Trigger cautiously begins to paw at me, whining, until his forelegs rest on my shoulders. We topple over, and I can’t help but cry-laugh when he returns to shoving his snout into my neck and face, lapping away like he can kiss away my heartache.

Heavy footsteps pound through the hallway until Gideon is standing over us and dragging Trigger away. “What the hell has gotten into?—

Gideon’s eyes widen at the sight of my splotchy, beet-red face swollen from crying as I sit back up. “Aw shit, girl…”

My eyes drag over the sight of Gideon’s shirtless body and open trousers. His body appears battle-hardened, marked with scars and heavily muscled, with a scattering of tattoos. “He’s fine—I’m fine… It’s just been a long day, and he was comforting me.”

Gideon posts himself on one knee, scrubbing a hand over his short beard as he releases Trigger’s collar and scoops me up off the floor.

My mind and body dutifully ignore the fact that I’ve known this male for all of a few hours as my eyes slip shut in a melange of relief, comfort, and sheer-fucking-euphoria at the sensation of Gideon’s bare chest pressing against my cheek as he holds me in his arms. He strides over to the couch and sets me down before dropping to one knee.

Gods, when was the last time I was held?

Not fucked—held.

Nurtured.

As fun as a fanciful fuck with a skilled lover may be, it does nothing to nourish my soul. My heart.

Gideon’s brow knits together as he observes me.

“Maybe it would be a good idea if you just told me what was going on… Help me, help you, darlin’. Especially since we’re sharing a roof for the time being, building a little trust can only be a good thing, right?”

This big, strong man speaks to me so softly that it makes my chest hurt. More tears spring to my eyes, and he watches each one fall with a burning intensity. Swiping at my cheeks, I try to decide on some form of truth that he’ll actually believe.

If he doesn’t believe I can dry my hair with magic, he’ll think I’m absolutely insane if I try to tell him I was duped and drugged by a Syrith with a grudge who shoved me through a portal from another realm.

“I have a lot of responsibility back home. I have spent most of my life working in… my family’s business out of obligation. On an impulse, this was supposed to be my first-ever vacation, but it’s proven to be a disaster. As you can see.”

Gideon stares at me as though maybe if he does it hard enough, it’ll expose all my truths.

“And where’s home?”

“Caerwynath.”

“Where’s that? Europe or somethin’?”

I huff a small laugh, heart still squeezing at the concern in his eyes, even if there is a palpable wariness edging it.

“Or something.”

Because what the shit is Europe?

Gideon studies me for a moment. “You don’t seem eager to go back.”

The realization that he’s right despite the madness that brought me here is disconcerting, even if hearing him say it aloud gives me some strange sense of relief.

Now that I don’t have a giant beast tearing me to shreds, and instead, have a gorgeous and remarkably caring human male doting on me… I don’t want to go back.

“I’m not, no…”

His brow pinches. “And you’re sure there isn’t anyone there who might be worried about you?”

A sardonic laugh escapes. “Doubtful.”

In reality, my absence, if anything, is a relief.