Page 177 of Princess of Bael

“No,” he replied. “Well, yes, I did. But this isn’t for dinner. We’ll have that afterward.”

“What did you make?”

“A stew. It’s been slow-cooking all day and needs at least another hour.”

I wasn’t sure when he found time to be a chef, but I adored him for it.

Another soft whisper of metal gliding against metal sounded, stirring a slight chill around me as cool air touched my senses. “Are you sure this isn’t food related?” Because it really did feel like he’d opened up a refrigerator door. Or maybe one belonging to a freezer.

“Take off your blindfold, Kayla,” he said into my ear, his chest against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

I lifted my hands to the silk around my eyes and pulled it down, then blinked a little to acclimate to the lighting inside the—

My jaw dropped.

Oh.

Oh, shit!

“A new armory,” I breathed, my feet already moving.

Ezra released me, giving me a chance to explore the beautiful weapons room.

“I think I just came again,” I whispered, trembling from the excitement evoked by this room.

My mate chuckled. “You didn’t, but I’ll note that for later.” He moved to a large dresser in the middle of the room, the top of which was covered in a sheet of black marble. There were seven drawers beneath it, all of them protected by fingerprint technology. “Try the top one,” he suggested.

I pressed my thumb to the indicator in the middle—it took over the area where a handle typically would reside.

It hissed open, just like the doors had, to reveal a gorgeous sword inside.

My lips parted. “Is this…?”

“The sword I promised you?” His gaze twinkled. “Yes. It is. And it’s bespelled to come to you when you call it.”

Ezra had explained to me how his weapons worked and the various enchantments that allowed him to compel them at will.

He’d already re-charmed three daggers for my personal use.

And now he’d finally made me a sword.

I picked it up to test the weight, twirling it around and loving the way it felt in my hands. The runes embedded into the metal gleamed, ready to be used. “I really hope sparring is on our agenda tonight.”

“It’s always on our agenda,” he drawled.

Yes. Because he enjoyed a good fight before fucking me.

Foreplay, he called it.

He wasn’t wrong.

“I love it,” I told him, grinning. “You’ll have to teach me how to call it to me.”

He nodded. “I will. But how about you check out the other contents in the drawers first.”

I returned the sword and did just that.

The second drawer had more daggers.