Chapter Five

She woke to an Irish tune, the voice of a man, the rattling of pots. And sat up in bed somewhat disoriented. And when her eyes cleared she came face to face with her dog, who stood at the side of her bed.

“You hear it too, don’t you, Dante?”!he only tilted his head.

She sighed and pushed her blanket away and getting up reached for a coat to wear over her night dress.

“So God help that man for waking me up this way.” She said and went to him.

She didn’t have the heart to raise her voice at him. For he stood in her kitchen barebacked and jeans, making breakfast. So she simply leaned against the door jamb.

It had been ages since she lived with another and having him that way, felt… right.

“Good Morning.” He said with a calm smile when he turned to face her. She had come to tell him off, but she couldn’t help the smile that formed across her face,

“I thought you were from Derbyshire. How can you know an Irish tune so perfectly well?”

He walked to the dining table with plates of fried eggs and sausages, dropping them on the table, he shrugged.

“I’ve been around.”

She sniffed the air and nearly sighed. Having someone make breakfast for her was another thing she hadn’t had in a long time as well,

“Smells divine.”

“I hope to God you say the same thing when you’ve tried it.”

“The gesture alone means a lot.” She pulled herself away from the wall and walked closer to him, but kept enough space between them to keep herself sane. She hadn’t forgotten what being close to him did to her.

“Then I’m grateful I found the eggs.”

She looked up at him and found his gaze on her,

“I’m glad you feel better. If I’m being honest, I dragged myself out of bed to tell you off for waking me off, it hadn’t even registered that you weren’t bedridden anymore.”

His smile only grew and she bit her lower lip to ward off the intrusive thoughts his smile provoked.

“You wanted to tell me off… then what stopped you?”

What stopped her? It was the sight of him making her breakfast, it was the way it didn’t seem foreign to have him in her kitchen. It was how she got lost in taking it all in. That had stopped her.

But instead, she shrugged and sat at the table,

“It’s bad manners to yell at the one who makes you breakfast.” She said and looked up at him with a bright smile.

He shook his head and went to her shelf to get more plates and cutleries. It surprised her the way he knew where they were. But then again, he had been at it all morning.

He came back and set the plates on the table. taking his seat across from her, he stretched out a hand to her.

She regarded it for a moment before looking up at him, his brows raised, a smile playing on his lips,

“Grace. Let’s share the grace.”

“Oh.” She said, and slowly lifted her hand to place in his.

He ran a thumb over hers instinctively and it sent a wave of desire through her.

Slow down. She told herself. That was supposed to be a holy moment.

One she could admit that she was not used to, because, ditto, she lived alone.

He said the grace, a short prayer that reminded her of the one usually said when she was a child. And once they were done, the withdrawing of her hand gave her a sense of loss.

“I’ve been about payment. You never really told me how much you required of me.”

She caught through a sausage and looked up at him blankly,

“Payment?”

“Payment, Laylah. For the cabin?”

“Oh. Right, of course. My mind tends to be in a million places at once most times in the morning.” She nodded and looked out of the window, where the cabin she offered stood.

It wasn’t that far away, he wouldn’t be that far away from her. And that gave her an odd sense of relief.

“Well, if I’m being honest. I haven’t given much thought to how much I’ll be collecting from you…”

She played around with her eggs, before finally forking them and putting them in her mouth,

“But that can be arranged, “ but I am really big on the land tending part.”

“I did a bit of walking around. Doesn’t strike me as a land suffering from any kind of neglect if you ask me.”

She took his words as a form of compliment and smiled,

“Some days are harder than others. A helping hand would be nice.”

“And so you have one now.”

He stared at her when he said those words, and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that although she was the one who was the witch, he might have been staring right into her soul.

~•~

Laylah was never one to rush through a meal and it struck her as incredibly sweet that he had tried to stay with her while she finished her meal.

But then again, it was worth considering that he ate heartily and much more quickly than she did because of his werewolf nature.

But by the time she was done, she spared him from the need to stay by her side. He might have been visibly better, but she knew he still needed to rest.

Plus, she needed to practice some meditation… she needed a greater understanding of her vision.

“I’ll give you a tour of the cabin later. But for now, take your rest, Alexander of Derbyshire.”

His eyes dropped at her words. And when they closed, she regretted not casting her spell when he was already in his bed. She was going to have to carry him all the way.

And he was most definitely not feather light.

She got up and walked to him, and running a hand across his face, she sighed.

“Take your rest Alexander of Derbyshire, for when you wake, you might have to sign a deal with one whose true nature you detest.”