Page 159 of Boys Who Hunt

He tilts his head, smirking. “I’m learning quickly.” His eyes scatter across the table. “Grab some food.”

I cross my arms. “I’m not hungry.”

His eyes narrow. “I didn’t ask. Grab. The. Food.”

I narrow my eyes too now.

Is this some kind of game to him? Trying to make me bow just for saving me?

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but if you think you can just command me around because you saved me, you’re wrong.”

“What I’m trying to do here is make you eat.” He flicks his fingers, and some actual goddamn servants come forward and place a few different drinks in front of me—fresh orange juice, water, and coffee.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

“I told them to leave.”

I gulp.

“To give you and … Cora some time to adjust,” he adds.

The pause before Cora’s name almost makes me think he has trouble remembering her name. That … or it really hit him hard that I wasn’t alone like he thought I’d be.

“Go ahead, try the food. You’ll like it.”

Why is he so fixated on this?

“I told you, I’m not hungry.”

My growling stomach immediately reveals my lie.

And the smirk slowly growing on his face makes my whole body burn with heat.

“I heard that.”

In my embarrassment, I grab a bunch of pancakes off the stack, cut off too much, and shove it into my mouth hole so I can give him a snooty look. Instead, the taste of the pancakes has me pausing mid-bite as I’m overwhelmed with the sensations.

God, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything tastier than this.

I swallow it and take a sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice, which is equally delicious.

“I told you, you’d like it,” he says, smugly leaning on the table with his elbow.

My nostrils flare, but I can barely stomach another swallow without tears welling up in my eyes. I put down my fork and turn away from him.

“Are you crying?” he asks.

I swiftly wipe them away. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” He chuckles. “Though, having a girl cry over the taste of my food instead of the size of my cock is a new one for me.”

Oh my God.

“You think it’s all a joke, but it’s not. You don’t know what I’ve had to do to get food, and it never tasted this good,” I growl.

I take another bite of the food before he decides to take it all away again. But the sudden change on his face catches me off guard. It’s almost as if his gaze has … softened.

“You don’t have to gobble it down. It’s not going anywhere,” he says. “Not until you’re full.”