Page 9 of Wishing Upon a Monster (Monster Brides Romance #40)

Aurora

M y stomach growled, interrupting whatever moment this was.

His ruby eyes glimmered with humor. “What do you have in your garden, wife? Surely humans still make stews?”

“I have flowers, mostly,” I murmured, fascinated with the dark purple around his cheeks and lips.

Was his blood purple? If he blushed, would it deepen?

“Are you a carnivore?” He unbent at the waist, his arm going out to push the door open wider for us to enter.

I swear, I saw the rainbow spinney wheel of death as my brain tried to load. I shook my head. “No, I am not just a meat-eater; I enjoy vegetables almost more than I enjoy meat.”

Olan motioned me forward as if it were his house, not mine. I made a noise and led him inside, hanging my purse on the hook by the door.

I wondered if he would like how my cottage was decorated. It had taken me a while to allow myself to embrace my whimsical side. As a child, I was encouraged to do studious tasks, and I tried to be the perfect serious daughter, as if that could make up for my lack of magic.

Spoiler alert, it did not.

Being an enforcer on the preserve paid very well, and I was able to indulge.

My home was pastel colored inside—the comfy overstuffed furniture, lace curtains, and other knick-knacks screamed cottagecore.

I couldn’t help but collect basic magical items, crystals, wands I could never use, and a few caldrons converted into planters dotted the space.

Even though the Goddess hadn’t blessed me with magic, a small altar was set up in a choice spot in my bay window.

I liked to think that, though I couldn’t feel Her influence like my family members swore they could, She was still pleased with my offerings.

“It is a beautiful space, min guldklump. I would be honored to share it with you.” He reached his hand out, engulfing mine. “Would you show me more of your domicile?”

I felt my cheeks heat, a pleasant feeling that diffused throughout my body. I hadn’t even shown my parents my house.

Since Kenton and I broke up, I really haven’t had anyone over to see what I’ve done to the place.

Kenton was, quite possibly, the last hurdle holding me back from embracing who I really was.

“Sure, let me show you around.”

We walked through the house, me hesitantly showing him what would also be his space.

We went through the rooms, lingering in my little library where I booted up my computer for his use later.

I showed him how to use our magical, Google-powered search engine, then played a few kitten videos to show him how videos worked.

MagiTube had a section about the modern world for vampires; I left that tab open for later.

My stomach reminded me that it still had not been fed, and we made our way back to my kitchen––where I currently have a god sitting at my counter as I put together a basic beef and vegetable stew.

“––and the fire is inside the glass?” Olan asked, watching me stir the soup in a bulbous green pot.

“Sort of. This is a ceramic-top stove, and there is a heating element underneath. I like it because it keeps food and other scraps from falling into the element, making it easier to keep clean.” I explained as I sprinkled a little more salt into the stew.

“It pleases me to know that some things are still the same. Soups are still being made, and humans continue to work in a way that makes their lives easier, inventing such ingenious devices.” His ruby-colored eyes watched my wooden spatula as I stirred.

“Did you live with humans––before you moved to your land in the preserve?” I asked lamely, not sure exactly how to broach the topic.

He propped his chin up on his fist, looking at me in a way that made me turn to quickly grab a loaf of Italian bread to slice and hide behind. I didn’t feel unsafe, but the amount of measuring I felt with every question I asked made me feel like I shouldn’t have drawn so much attention to myself.

A predator versus prey response, I suppose?

Olan chuckled, “Perhaps it is, min skat. I will teach you now how to block your thoughts? Then I can answer your questions?”

I felt a blush rush to my cheeks, knowing he heard my last thought. “Yes, please.”

He unfolded his large form from the stool gracefully, joining me behind the counter. I held the Italian loaf between us like a shield.

“First, you must picture a hat—a helmet, a crown, some sort of headpiece that surrounds your mind. Picture it wrapped around your skull. It is strong, adorned with whatever you believe will help keep your thoughts hidden, made of whatever material you believe is impenetrable.” His voice was low and rumbly, relaxing me with its worn-out timbre.

He reached between us, taking the loaf of bread out of my hands.

“Focus on what it will do, keeping your thoughts inside and others’ thoughts out. ”

My eyes fluttered closed as his voice wove a crown in my mind.

It was made of tungsten, with a center piece that swooped low over my third eye.

I envisioned glossy black tourmaline crystals for protection and amethyst for setting boundaries, with a few obsidian stones to reflect negative energy back on anyone who would try to probe my thoughts.

“Good,” he whispered, his hands ghosting up my arms, “imagine that the headpiece is constant. Only you can dismantle it; only you can put it on and take it off when you choose. Now a test?” He murmured.

His hand gently tipped my face up. I focused, not allowing the crown in my mind to waver, adding decorative swirls and etchings into the metal.

His lips brushed my forehead, and I was prepared, my crown holding strong as his lips fell on my cheek next, his lips soft but not lingering.

I felt goosebumps erupt along my flesh and focused, holding my crown firmly in place, until he did not take advantage of my lips as I assumed he would. As any man in this situation would.

But I had forgotten Olan wasn’t a man, and with a startling, light kiss on my nose, my crown wavered as my eyelids opened in shock.

He just chuckled, enjoying the strange mix of confusion and disappointment as it flashed through my mind. Followed by instant embarrassment, which I could feel blazing across my face. “Oops,” I whispered, trying to solidify the crown before I gave more away.

“It will take time, min skat, but your first attempt was impressive. I think the crown was an excellent choice, and the stones––”

“You can see it?” I asked, caught off guard. “I didn’t know it would be visible to other people!”

“Do not worry, I can see it because we are linked,” he said, raising the arm with his golden bracelet made of my hair and gold between us. “You will be able to block me out eventually, I promise. With practice, you may find you can also see mine.”

I closed my eyes again, focusing on Olan.

“Just follow the sound of my voice and picture me in your mind,” he said, his hands returning to my arms, stroking gently. I envisioned Olan. He looked different in my mind; he wasn’t solid but made of shadow, with two red flames where eyes would be.

“Yes, that is what my people look like where I am from, our world is without solid form as you know it.” He pulled me closer, and I took a step into his pleasant coolness.

I looked in my mind’s eye above where his brow would be and saw a thin gold circlet wrapped around his forehead.

It wasn’t ostentatious or littered with jewels, and yet it seemed to signify something hardier than the crown that I had constructed.

I stayed there, in this place in between, enjoying the cool of Olan’s arms and the feeling of contentment I felt there, until the smell of scalding soup interrupted my thoughts.

“Oh, hells bells,” I cursed, pulling away from the safety I felt and moving my soup to one of the unused burners.

He let me go, walking back to his seat on the other side of the counter.

I pulled my crown to the forefront of my mind, making sure it was in place before the feeling of loss, which made no sense to me in this context, could overpower the panic of burnt stew.

I quickly transferred the steaming liquid into one of my enchanted serving bowls, the enchantment designed to keep the contents fresher longer, and scooped up a bit of the vegetable and meat blend, using a tasting spoon that was enchanted not to burn the taster’s tongue.

I might not have been magical myself, but I happily used enchanted items throughout my home.

“Thank the Goddess the soup isn’t burnt. We will need to wait for the rest of this to cool, but then we can eat,” I rinsed the spoon under the faucet before laying it with the other kitchenware I used to prepare dinner.

“I am humbled you wish to share your dinner with me,” he said, his voice soft like rain on a tin roof.

I turned around, drying my hands on a dish towel. “Is that not done where you are from?”

“Where I am from, we feast on stars, min skat ,” his amusement curving his lips as he continued, “but of all the worlds I have visited, yours is the most alluring. Sharing a meal, there is a vulnerability in that action that I have not experienced any world else. It has been an age since I have shared a meal with a human.”

My brain couldn’t grasp the idea that I was bound to a being that ate stars like some sort of blackhole, and I felt my human mind compartmentalizing that fact away for a freak out in the near future. “Is it rude to ask if you have been in this sort of arrangement before? With another human?”

I bent down, getting out two pale yellow soup bowls from the cupboards.

“It is not. I have shared many meals with humans in the past, but none with a being I have been married to.”

I placed the bowls on the counter and ladled out healthy portions for us both.

Olan’s physique, while stretched, had muscle, and if he ate while on our plane of existence, then I felt like he probably ate as much as any of my brothers would.

I also didn’t shy away from food, so seconds were a given.

There was plenty for thirds, and one person could even have fourths if they needed it.

I served us both in silence, and his red eyes followed my movements around the kitchen. I took two silver spoons from the drawer by my kitchen sink. “Is silver okay? I have stainless steel somewhere...”

“Silver for eating is fine, I have no adverse reactions to metals, but I prefer gold for trade. What do you receive in trade for your work for Mrs. Duvall?”

I blew on my soup, taking a tentative sip, feeling the slight burn on my tongue.

“We receive human money and, at times, services. The warding around my property, for instance. The property itself, for that matter. I will receive the deed to this land once I retire from my work here. I have another ten to fifteen years to go before that happens.”

“I have enough gold that you will not have to work unless you want to, but I suspect that you do?” His hands made the silver spoon I gave him look dainty.

I watched, barely breathing, as he took a bite. His round eyes crinkled at the corners as he withdrew the spoon, a purplish blush staining his cheeks.

“This is quite good, min skat, it has been a time since I have had a good stew.” He picked up his steaming bowl of soup, the heat obviously not an issue as he scooped more into his mouth.

I let him eat, cutting us some slices of slightly mangled Italian bread before ladling him some more from the pot.

I ate in pleased silence, enjoying his voracious appetite.

It had taken me time to learn how to cook; we had a chef when I was growing up.

It was one of the first things I learned to be good at, that I allowed myself to keep going with, against my parents’ wishes.

With a corroded sigh and a pleased pat on his stomach, Olan watched me eat the last of my second bowl .

I reached across the table to gather our dishes, a sense of accomplishment humming through my veins.

Olan stood and watched me rinse the bowls and put them in the dishwasher.

Once I was done, I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do.

I needed to probably get ready for bed, and yet–– I felt like there was something unsaid.

“ Min Skat, I would like to tell you a story. Would you be willing to listen?”

I was taken aback by the question, a confirmation of what I was feeling.

Maybe this was a part of being his partner––he had said we would speak to one another telepathically, and I assume that would mean emotions as well as words.

I wasn’t skilled enough to read his thoughts, and maybe I would never be able to, considering my lack of magical talent, but the idea that maybe I could sense his moods gave me some satisfaction.

I wasn’t sure I was supposed to feel that way, but today was that kind of day.

“Could we sit on the porch?” I found myself saying, “It’s a nice night. I would like for us to get to know each other a little better.”

His mouth stretched into a pleased grin. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”