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“Why are we still up?” Dany moaned.
I laughed at her as she slumped in her seat at the counter. It was Sunday night, and I made sure to drag everyone to my apartment.
“Because I’m doing everyone a favor and am cooking.”
“I don’t think that’s called a favor,” she mumbled.
“Why? I think it’s excellent that Mistress is cooking,” Archon said.
Dany made a noise all too close to a snort.
“Thank you, Archon. You’re now my favorite.” I gave Dany a pointed look, but she was too busy not looking at me to receive my message.
Cooking was... weird. I carefully cut the vegetables, well aware of the possibility of chopping my fingers off. Or knowing my luck, my entire hand.
“If you’re any more careful, it’ll be ready for breakfast in the morning,” Alto said as he stepped to my side. He flashed me his swoon-worthy, kind smile as he carefully removed the knife from my hand.
“I’m an expert with handling blades in a fight,” I said. “But have me chop something and I usually end up with all my fingers covered in band-aids.”
He chuckled. Alto’s movements were fluid as he took over the insane job of chopping vegetables.
“Alto?” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“How is Jayson? I mean I know he’s healed, but how is he really?”
He paused for a moment before continuing with the rapid thud of the knife against the cutting board. Herbs were the devil’s creation. They were impossible to chop up so finely. Alto had no issues.
“Is this your way of asking if he’s at risk of becoming a boggart?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. It’s always hard with brownies from what I’ve been able to dig up about them. Some turn at the slightest misdemeanor. Others need a huge blow to turn.”
I swallowed. “This was a huge blow.”
“It was. He woke up and is talking. He’s responding favorably,” Alto replied. “But the change... it’s not as simple as that. He can be fine, but it could change in a moment.”
Nodding, I said, “Exactly.”
“Well, we’ll be there to help him if it comes to it.” He leaned into me briefly, not missing a beat with his expert chopping.
“Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled.
Cooking went faster with Alto’s help. Wine was passed around, supplied by Dany. Rophan brought the beer. It was nice, being surrounded by people who were quickly beginning to feel like family.
Dany and Zen flirted all night, and I was only grateful they didn’t decide to give us a show while they made out on the couch.
“Oh stop,” Dany said after I teased her about getting a room already, preferably next door at Rophan’s so that we didn’t have to hear it, and I wasn’t so sure they’d make it off our porch. “You can’t tell me you don’t think about it.”
“Oh, I think about it constantly,” I said with a giggle. “I’m a female.”
“Then why haven’t you?” she pushed. I knew what she was doing. Her shifty eyes told me what she was trying to do. The room grew quiet as everyone waited for my answer.
I raised an eyebrow and look at all of them. Even Gaerlan and Asriel looked like they wanted an answer too. Nope. Not embarrassing at all.
Secretly, I promised retribution against Dany, and she knew it, according to the challenging raise of her eyebrows.
“You know me, Dany. Men only make it in my bed one way and I’m not ready for another relationship.”
Her expression softened. “It’s been four years.”
“There’s no time limit to grief. You know that, so stop trying to put one on mine.”
She sighed and stood up, bringing Zen with her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just hate you pushing men away from you.” She glanced at everyone in the room. “Present people excluded.” She yanked on Zen. “Come on, hotshot. You got me like this. Now fix it.”
“My pleasure,” he purred as he swept her over his shoulder like a caveman. Or in his case, an overeager dominant shifter. They were practically the same thing.
“What does she mean?” Archon asked.
“Story for another time,” I said, sharing a look with Rophan.
I didn’t tell many people about Sath, so maybe I was starting to get better. Maybe time was finally making a difference and my grief was lessening.
Or not.
“To surviving hell week!” I cheered.
The others joined me as I pasted on a smile and we celebrated surviving the first week of school. I had a feeling we were going to have more celebrations like this. Hopefully, it was always a celebration, and not a remembrance instead.
