“You are excused,” his voice rumbled, dropping on my skin like a silk blanket, raising gooseflesh in its wake.
“What?” I frowned, throat bobbing, eyes unable to avert from the constant tension of his muscles, the way his back arched with every pull. “What are you talking about?” I had to press my fingers into fists to stop the need to touch his shoulders, to make him turn to me.
Gale dropped the weights, making the room snap with the sounds of his abandonment and making my body twitch before turning abruptly. Those green eyes met mine, long dark lashes fanning at me, looking curious and disturbed by my insolence.
“You asked me to excuse you, twice. I already did. You are free to return to your lodgings,” he spoke softly, elongating the words as if I needed further clarification, as though he wanted to make sure I understood.
“I don’t want to be excused?” I inched closer, nipping at the shrinking distance in between us.
Annoyed, the faerie abandoned its post on the small bench, twisting its…his…leg to get it free and stood, displaying his statuesque posture and might. Fuck me twisted, he really looked like a statue. Like one of the gods, because who in this damn world could be this absolutely gorgeous? Tall, strong built, freakishly gorgeous and alluring. Even his skin emanated sensuality, his pores dripping sweat in the most delicious of ways, inviting my tongue to want to clean every inch of it and never stop until I licked every part of this man.
No wonder we were always told to stay away from fae males. I came to see now that it was not only their reputation, the fact that they lived for sex and liked to toy around with their food, but because they were simply…irresistible.
“What is it that you want then?” Gale took a step to me, causing my heart to leap out and my pussy to want to take flight and run to him. I needed him inside me, I wanted to know everything he would do, I needed to become his and offer myself to him body and soul. Come what may, a tumble with this man would make anything worth it.
“I am waiting, muffin,” he crossed his arms, gazing at me with a half-grin, waking me up from my trance.
“That is exactly what I want,” I said angrily, ignoring the silly name he found for me. Ha ha, let’s make fun of my dark hair and olive skin. Fuck you Gale, because a chocolate muffin was everyone’s choice.
“Muffins, toast, fruit, beans, deli, cheese, tomatoes, peppers. The half cucumber I left after I made a salad at dinner,” I bit my lower lip as if I still tasted the dill and sour cream cucumber salad I had thoroughly enjoyed the night before. “Where is all the food?”
By the look of all the cans thrown across the room, the food was already in his belly, unless he made stashes of it somewhere, which made no sense, because all the cans were ripped open.
“I was hungry,” his brow arched as if I was asking the silliest question in the world, and he had started to doubt my intelligence.
“You were hungry?” I huffed. “For a week’s worth of food?”
He did not reply, his eyes taking advantage to scan me for the first time. I did not want to know what he saw, how I must have looked compared to his god-like appearance, so I did not dwell on it.
“It’s impossible for a person to eat this much food in just a few hours. You can’t possibly do such a thing, which means that you hid it from me,” I furrowed my brows, trying to add an inquisitive harshness.
“As I said, I was hungry,” Gale lost his patience and turned to the side, scanning the room for a new machine. He chose the bench press and without another look at me, he started walking in that direction.
Lesson one when it comes to Ellyana Harrow: I don’t give up easily, and this faerie was going to learn it the hard way.
“I don’t believe you. I think you just messed with it so I couldn’t have any,” I followed him, determined to get to the bottom of this.
“You have sausages and potatoes left. Milk and two eggs,” he replied while positioning weights onto the bar. I watched him add weight after weight, not stopping until the total sum was four times my body weight. He shimmied on the bench, strengthening his back while wrapping his fingers around the metal bar, preparing his muscles for the incoming pressure.
“Anything else, muffin?” he tilted his head to me, indirectly telling me that this conversation would be over as soon as those weights went in the air.
“I don’t believe you. I think you are up to something,” I confessed, playing all my cards in one hand because he gave me no other choice. “For one to be this hungry and eat that much…you must have not had food in a week!” I exclaimed at the ridiculousness of the thought.
“Three,” he replied, eyes focused once again on the bar.
“What?”
“Three weeks,” he confirmed.
They had not fed him for three weeks.
I remembered the box, the way he had been buried in iron, how his mouth was trapped and burnt, the rust around the nails. “And four days,” he added.
Three weeks and four days. Twenty-five days in total. Gale had not had any food in twenty-five days. My anger vanished like a snow angel at the first rays of sunshine, its existence and purpose completely forgotten. This man did not eat in twenty-five days. And still, he thought about leaving some food for me. He left me sausages, milk and eggs.
“Are you still hungry?” my mouth went ahead of me, curiosity overpowering reason.
“I am always hungry,” he said as if it was the most obvious answer. I had no idea how much a man of his stature would eat, but I had to assume it was a lot more than I did. And I had to buy it for him.
