Page 69 of Twisted Bonds
Deep in my chest, I release the purr I know she finds most soothing.
Time stretches, elongates, until she inhales deeply, a breath full of resolve and determination. Her grip tightens, and through our bond, a wave of relief cascades over me. She’s stronger than she knows, steadier than she believes.
“We’ve got this,” she whispers, conviction lacing her voice. “As long as we’re together, Yurghen doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Absolutely,” I agree, my heart swelling with pride and purpose. For her, for us, for the world we’ve come to call home, we will face whatever comes.
And if there’s one thing that always brings people together, it’s a feast.
Already, the wheels are turning in my head.
thirty-three
Mira
After a long night sleeping alone to get some clarity, I’m looking forward to talking with everyone all together again. We need a solution. At lunchtime I step into the makeshift dining room Bobble has set up. Apparently there’s no formal dining area in this underground mansion of Tairyn’s because, in his words, why the fuck would I have that?
Apparently, eating at his desk is all he knows. I think back to the woman I was not too long ago, alone after work each night, save for my little orange tabby cat. Most nights would just be me with a plate of whatever takeout or perhaps a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (or three) on that yellow couch binge watching Netflix or playing some old school console games.
My eyes dart to Tairyn’s as he eyes the formal place settings and the low floral centerpiece in the middle of this large circular table, a detail I’m sure Bobble insisted upon with the small set of staff here.
I hope he’s not a jerk. I might ring his neck if he insults Bobble for putting this together. The décor is beautiful and simple, a sampling of all my favorite colors, I note. I beam at him. “This is lovely! I can’t believe you put this together so quickly.”
He gives me a sheepish grin before the door to the hall opens with a bang, revealing our last participant, Callum, who is curiously covered in paint splatter.
“So glad you could join us.” Sunder’s snark immediately puts me on edge. Surprisingly, Tairyn joins him in chiding Callum for his punctuality. “Just like you to always be a disappointment.”
Callum opens his mouth to retort, but I interrupt him. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold. It smells so good in here. What’s on the menu?”
I take my seat between Tairyn and Sunder. Bobble pulls out the chair for Callum before taking his seat on Sunder’s other side.
“Well, I know how much like a traditional Thanksgiving feast, so I thought maybe we’d go with that. We’ve got a whole turkey, southern style cornbread dressing, green bean casserole, sweet potato souffle, and pumpkin pie of course.”
“Technically, it’s dressin’. You don’t pronounce the g, Bobs.” I correct him with a grin.
As if on queue, the serving girl brings in the first course. The tartlets are perfectly golden brown, with flaky pastry crusts and a sprinkle of fragrant thyme on top. The melted brie and cranberry filling creates a tantalizing swirl of colors clouded by steam.
My mouth waters as the scents fill my nose. I don’t wait to see what everyone else does. I dig in. The first bite is a burst of flavors in my mouth - the flaky crust, the creamy brie, the tangy cranberries, and a hint of black pepper. It’s a perfect balance of sweet and savory. The divine flavors elicit a soft moan from my chest as I close my eyes to savor this perfect treat.
When I’m done chewing my first orgasmic bite, I open my eyes to tell them how delicious it is, only to notice that all my mates have their eyes fixed intently on me. I blink in surprise, eyeing Bobble for reassurance. Did I break some etiquette?
My cheeks flush as I catch Tairyn’s eyes feasting on my lips with a carnal hunger before clearing his throat and averting his deep gaze.
Oh.
“Soooo….,” Bobble starts, glancing around the table for someone to engage with. I push the rising heat in my chest out of my thoughts as I finish my tart. “Good thing we trained so hard yesterday, right Sunder? No guilt Thanksgiving.”
Sunder grunts his appreciation around the mouthful of tart.
Tairyn smirks to himself, and I know he’s about to make some comment about the kind of workout they had. Before Sunder can notice, I pipe in. “Callum, you look like you’ve been painting.”
His tortured eyes meet mine, twisting my gut with guilt. “I have.” He glances over at Bobble before meeting my gaze again. “I found some excellent books about the history behind some of our masterworks here and how they originally developed the pigments. I got curious and wanted to try mixing some myself. It’s nice to work with my hands.”
“Being imprisoned does take that opportunity away,” Sunder bites out.
I glance between him and Tairyn, noting the unwavering eye contact being exchanged between them.
Callum’s eyes flick to Sunder, a subtle flash of annoyance in his gaze. “Perhaps some of us are better equipped to handle confinement than others,” he retorts, a pointed look aimed at Sunder.