Page 48 of Hunted

“You aren’t about to thaw that meat out with magic. We need that magic.”

“It’s barely a trickle. Watch.”

Valerian closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. The palm of his hand began to glow orange and warm, illuminating the beef under his hand. It only took a moment. Seconds. Every ounce of water and ice in that packet melted. It melted so quickly, Valerian had to take the beef and place it in the sink so the water wouldn’t spill everywhere.

Somehow, the meat itself didn’t cook under Valerian’s hand.

“Impressive,” I said, nodding. “That takes a lot of skill. I don’t think I could do that.”

“All it takes is patience. Like with most things.”

In the kitchen there was a small, square dining table, barely large enough for a plate or two on it at a time. I took a seat at one of the stools tucked underneath it. “That is an area you and I are very different in.”

“I know.”

“You’re not supposed to agree with that.”

“But I did, because I do.”

I frowned. “I’m less impressed, now.”

“You’ll feel different when you have a full belly.”

I wasn’t going to argue with that. I was also incredibly curious to see what he was going to cook for me. I had been cooked for my whole life. Not because I didn’t want to learn, but because I was never given a choice. I wasn’t allowed in the kitchens. That was a place for the staff, and I wasn’t staff—I was the Princess of Windhelm. It was my job to sit around and wait to be fed.

This, though.

This felt different.

I didn’t feel like I was waiting around to be fed by some cook in the palace kitchens. I was next to Valerian, watching his hands, the way he handled the meat, the way he seasoned it and mashed it into small balls filled with onions and garlic. I watched him oil a skillet, light the burners up, and start cooking the meatballs he had made.

He was quick with his movements, confident, sure of what he was doing. Every once in a while, he would throw a glance in my direction. He was checking in on me, making sure I was still watching him. It became clear pretty quickly, that he was enjoying this.

Good.

I wasn’t sure how much enjoyment we were going to get in this little hovel we were in. It was going to be a long couple of days filled with silence, harsh cold, and howling wind. This gave me hope that we weren’t going to die of boredom before the crescent moon came.

When Valerian was done with the meatballs, he boiled a little pasta, then he cooked up a creamy sauce that smelled absolutely delicious. When it was all done, he threw the pasta in some bowls, added his cooked meatballs to the mix, and topped it with his rich, creamy sauce. By the time he served me the bowl, my mouth was watering.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” I asked.

“I’ve cooked for myself my entire life,” he said.

“Your entire life?”

“Ever since I was old enough to cook,” he paused. “But it was Pepper who showed me how to cook for someone else.”

“Ah,” I said, smiling, “Of course it was.”

Valerian joined me at the table, pulling out a small stool and sitting across from me. “Eat… before it gets cold.”

With a slight nod, I got to work on my bowl of food. I couldn’t believe how good everything was; how flavorful, and creamy, and mouthwatering. I ate the meatballs, the pasta, and the sauce, trying my hardest not to lick the bowl after, and instead scoop the last of the sauce up with a spoon.

Tallin woke up while we were eating, and Valerian offered him some meatballs on a plate, which he happily ate in front of the fireplace. When I was done with my food, I leaned back on my stool. “You were right,” I said.

“Right about what?” asked Valerian.

“I do feel better now that my belly is full.”