Heirs of the Gods

Ch 51: Kill the cook

Aedion's heartbeats had been a war drum at first.

Uneven and choppy, rattling against his chest so hard that Ella was sure it would bruise. She could hear it against her ear, where her head rested on his chest. It had made her own heart hurt, every time he took those ragged breaths.

But eventually, they'd evened out. She'd soothed him and mumbled nonsensical words until his heartbeat had calmed. And then, they'd stayed together all the same.

Now, it beat against her cheek. Even pitter-patters echoed by the absent-minded way he twirled a piece of her hair and flexed his hand against her back. He was warm and steady, quiet. Ella found it easy to just stand there in silence with him, wrapped up in his arms like a gift.

"I'm getting you a stool for your birthday," he grumbled, breaking the easy quiet. "You're killing my neck." 

Ella untangled her arms from around him and pulled back, wincing, but Aedion didn't let go. Instead, he tutted and pulled her back to him. His hands found their way around her hips, and wordlessly, he lifted her. Ella let out a small squeak of surprise, which transformed into amusement as he placed her on top of the work island.

Aedion then wasted no time in pulling her back to him, curling his arms around her waist. She parted her knees slightly and he nestled against her, burying his face in her neck, taking full advantage of their lack of height difference.

"Much better," he mumbled against her neck, slumping against her.

Ella laughed softly and wrapped an arm around his back, carding her other hand through his soft hair, scraping her nails slightly. Aedion sighed, relaxing into her even further, his arms tightening around her waist.

Ella couldn't help the burst of overwhelming amusement and endearment she felt. This absolute giant of a man incited fear in the vast majority of people who crossed his path, yet he could be so tender and affectionate. It never failed to make her feel unbearably warm.

"Do you smell that?" Ella said after a while, wrinkling her nose.

Aedion pulled back, eyes wide. "Shit, my stew." He hurried to turn the oven off and take out the pot, using large mitts. Fortunately, it hadn't burned.

"Are those little dragons on the mitts?" she asked, trying and failing to hold back a smile.

"They were a gift," Aedion huffed. "Blaise got them for me, and it's not like I could just not use them. That would be rude of me."

"I'm sure it takes a toll on you," she deadpanned. "How ever do you cope?"

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know."

"I sense a theme," she went on, ignoring his jibes. "Apron, mitts. What's next? Red sheets? Little flames embroidered on your pillows?"

He braced an arm against the countertop by her sides, lips pulling up into a lazy smirk as he caged her in. "Care to find out for yourself?"

Ella slapped his bare chest. "Cad," she muttered, feeling her cheeks heating up.

"Dearest, the apron says kiss the cook, not hit," he moved away from her and leaned against the opposite counter, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Ella swallowed thickly as she drank in the sight, throat suddenly very dry. A smooth expanse of skin, taut and muscled. Trousers hung low on slim hips, just above the slightly jutting bones. A thin smattering of dark hair, right below his navel, like a little trail.

"Looking for something?" His eyebrow arched high, his smirk ever-present. If he minded the staring, he didn't show it.

"Yes, a knife," Ella grumbled, red up to her pointed ears. "I think Val made a mistake on that apron. She clearly meant to spell kill."