Page 35 of Moist!

chapter six

NEFKENIR

Five. That’s the number of consecutive nights Lyra has come to me with food.

And for five days, I’ve waited by the lakeside for her, waited for that moment she appears in the treeline with the now familiar brown ‘takeout’ bags.

I can’t venture more than ten or fifteen feet from the lake itself, so I wait at the edges of my enclosure.

After the Italian food she brought cheeseburgers.

Then vegetable curry. Then she brought pad thai from a place that also sells sushi, which sounds like what I eat all the time anyway.

We shared a laugh at how it’s so popular, and how it would be the last food I’d ever pick.

If I never eat fish again, it won’t be soon enough.

I’m already on guard and grieving, because this blossoming friendship can’t last. She’ll get tired of it, or busy, or she’ll find a male who can spend time in her bed. She’ll move on. I know it’s coming, and I’m already devastated.

I’ve never had a friend, not even before my curse. I was a king, a foolish, young king. I lost my kingdom and my people and most importantly, my beloved.

“What shall we try tomorrow?” Lyra slurps a long pad thai noodle between rosy red lips. I try not to stare at the way it disappears into the wet heat of her mouth. Somewhere between that first night and today, my suspicion of her motives has turned into a genuine trust.

And something more.

Heat. Wild and unbridled and utterly inappropriate. She told me she was looking for friendship. Not something more.

I shove desire down so as not to make things awkward between us.

Lyra’s black brows bunch into a concerned-looking vee. “Nef, are you alright?”

Nef. Gods, I’ve never had a nickname, and the way it sounds falling from those plump, rosy lips.

I choke the heat back, masking it under a cough as I nod. “Fine, my…friend. The pad thai is my new favorite.” I wink at her. “The spice is nice.”

Her eyes spring wide and she laughs. “Wait until I bring you the pineapple curry from this same place. They throw a bunch of thai chilies in it so it’s spicy along with the sweet from the pineapple.”

She says something else about the food, but again, I’m drawn to her mouth as she talks, to the way she uses both hands wildly, gesturing about something even as she holds chopsticks between two fingers.

I’m quickly developing a depthless obsession with her black hair and the way the strands shine other colors in the fading autumn light.

I let out a sigh and she stops talking.

“Oh.” Black lashes flutter against high, angular cheekbones. “I’m boring you talking about food, aren’t I?”

I shake my head. “You could never bore me, Lyra. I suspect you’ll tire of me first, and this friendship will be a beautiful, cherished memory for me to look back on when I’m lying in the captain’s quarters of my ship.”

Her eyes spring wide for the second time in a few minutes.

Oh fuck . Fucking fuck that was way too much truth to lay on her .

She cocks her head to the side, eyes dropping down my frame as she sets her food container and the chopsticks on her rock.

Lyra stands and closes the distance between us.

Without thought, I drop down lower to be eye level with her.

Lifting onto her tiptoes, she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight, her lithe body pressed to mine.

“I’m never gonna want to leave you behind, Nefkenir,” she whispers. “Never.”

I wrap my arms fully around her as hope explodes into wild flames in my chest.

Can she even be real?

What if she’s telling the truth?

What if there’s the remotest of chances that I get to keep her…