Page 95 of Wicked Magik

"Oryx was in a state of distress, your blood covered them, while you hovered on the brink of death. Veylor, who I've neverseen so worried about anyone other than Oryx, was completely beside himself."

The pity I had for Benedict dried up in an instant. I pulled my hand away from Benedict and he tilted his head in confusion. “My lady?”

“Veylor went to fetch me? He was concerned?”

Benedict nodded, and I rose from my seat, pushing the chair back quietly. I walked to the wide window that framed the estate's sprawling gardens. Outside, deep red tulips and burnt orange daffodils were poking through the rich soil, their petals unfurling in the light stones rays.

The trees were alive with new life, their branches dotted with tender green buds ready to burst into leaves. High above, a pair of sapphire blue and forest green colored birds perched on the topmost branches, their feathers gleaming like jewels in the afternoon light.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t picture that.”

Benedict sighed, and I heard the teacup shake while he poured. “‘Tis true. He’s fond of you. More than you think.”

I turned around from the window and folded my arms. “Pardon my French, but are you fucking insane?”

Benedict stared at me, continued to pour the tea and overflowed the cup.

“He hated me as soon as he saw me. He tried to send me to the Under Shadows while I was in Oryx’s room.”

Benedict cleared his throat and took a towel from his waist, and began to clean up his mess. “It’s just his way of flirting, really.”

I scrunched my nose. “He threw a cake in your face when I made him take an oath that he wouldn’t lay a hand on me!”

“A sign of affection!” He held up the butter knife and put jam on the biscuit.

I stomped my foot. “He sent vampires to kill me!”

Benedict squinted and aimed the knife, sticky with jam, in my direction. "That was a misunderstanding. He didn't do it, but if he had, it would have been seen as a marriage proposal by him."

Oh. My. God.

“What would he do if he wanted to have sex with me?”

Benedict wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, we already know he likes to watch.”

I gasped.

“He’s been through a lot, my lady,” Benedict soothed.

“And I haven’t?” I squealed. “Have you seen the state I’m in, really? Kidnapped by a monster, hated by a lich, almost killed, multiple times, and now you say Veylor has a soft spot for me, and now you are calling me lady. I’m utterly confused. You better have something to spike that tea with.”

I stomped over the icebox and reached in, grabbing ice cubes and putting them inside the tea. Benedict opened and closed his mouth. “What have you done to the tea?”

“Making it better. Get me some booze, er, wine, something strong!”

Benedict backed away slowly and handed me a small bottle. I popped the cork and sniffed it. The smell burned my nose but I poured it into the tea cup anyway.

My mom would be so proud.

The fruity tea mixed with the warmth of whatever alcohol this was as it slid down my throat. Though the ice left it merely lukewarm, the flavor was surprisingly decent.

I needed this.

Benedict got two taller glasses, this time with more ice in both, and put the tea inside.

Okay, maybe he was onto something. Once they were filled with tea and left enough room for the alcohol we clicked our glasses together and sipped.

Oh, that was nice.