Chapter Forty Three
The warmth of Elijah’s embrace had anchored me through what felt ke endless waves of grief. My body trembled from exhaustion, my face buried in his chest as tears continued to flow. But eventually the storm began to ebb, leaving me breathless and drained.
I shifted slightly, finally looking up from Elijah’s chest. My vision was still blurry from crying, but the sight before me stopped me.
Austin stood in the doorway, dorning an apron, his broad shoulders slumped as he rubbed at his eyes. He looked utterly miserable.
“Austin?” I croaked, my voice hoarse from crying, “Why are you crying?”
Austin sniffed dramatically, his lower lip quivering. “It’s the onions,” he said, holding up his hands, which were covered in faint smears of onion juice. “I was trying to cook something for all of us, and now my eyes feel like they’re on fire. Every time I blink, it’s like onions rubbing themselves deeper into my eyes.”
I stared at him, stunned for a moment by the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Then, unexpectedly, a giggle bubbled up from Mythroat.
It started small, barely audible, but soon grew louder until I was clutching my stomach and laughing.
“There she is,” Alex said from where he stood near the window, his lips twitching into a smile. He walked over and kissed my cheek,
his warm touch chasing away some of the lingering sadness.
wiped at my eyes, trying to catch my breath. “Austin, you’re a mess. I said, still laughing.
“I’m the mess?” Austin shot back, his hands on his hips. The sight of him standing there in an apron–one that read Kiss the Cook- only made me laugh harder.
“You are,” I teased, my voice lighter than it had been in days.
“Well, excuse me for trying to make sure we don’t all starve,” Austin huffed, though the corners of his mouth twitched as if he were
fighting back a grin.
Elijah let out a soft chuckle, his hand running soothingly down my back. “We appreciate the effort, Austin. Maybe next time, wear goggles?”
“I’ll add that to my list of survival tips,” Austin grumbled, retreating toward the kitchen.
The smell of something cooking began to fill the cabin, and despite myself, my stomach growled. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was
until now.
Elijah helped me to my feet, steadying me as I took a moment to regain my balance.
“Come on,” he said softly, his hand resting on the small of my back. Let’s see what masterpiece Austin’s creating for us.”
We made their way to the kitchen, where Austin was stirring something in a pot. His apron was now slightly singed, and there were smudges of flour on his face.
“What are you making?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Soup,” Austin said proudly. “It’s warm, comforting, and most importantly, it doesn’t require much skill.”
Alex snorted, taking a seat at the small dining table. “You mean it doesn’t require any skill.”
“Hey!” Austin protested, brandishing a wooden spoon. “I’ll have you know I followed a recipe. Mostly.”
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Chapter Forty Three
“Mostly?” Elijah raised an eyebrow.
“There might have been some improvising,” Austin admitted.
Despite the teasing, the soup turned out to be surprisingly good. It was simple–just broth, vegetables, and chunks of meat–but it was exactly what we all needed.
As we ate, the conversation turned lighter, and for a brief moment, I felt almost normal again.
After the meal, I found myself sitting by the fireplace, wrapped in one of Mariah’s old sweaters. The warmth of the flames was comforting, but my mind was still racing.
My mates were scattered around the room, each occupying themselves in their own way. Alex was flipping through a book he’d found on the shelf, his brow furrowed in concentration. Elijah was sharpening a blade, his movements precise and methodical. Austin was fiddling with his phone, muttering about how the signal out here was terrible.
Isaiah, who had been quiet for most of the day, sat beside me. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was steady and grounding.
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