Chapter 254 The First Meal He Ever Cooked

Chapter 254: Chapter 254 The First Meal He Ever Cooked

Eira did not care whether Alpha Sebastian had pushed Serena by accident or whether something darker had happened. Either way, it was no longer her problem.

While dinner was being prepared, she curled up on the study sofa with Susan’s case file open on her tablet.

The numbers were shocking. Alpha Sebastian had funded nearly every part of Serena’s life, until her demands had grown so large they had turned against him.

Eira kept reading, unaware that Alpha Killian was watching her from across the room. Lamplight caught in his silver-gray eyes, making his expression impossible to read.

"Dinner’s ready," Mrs. Jones called.

Eira looked up and met Killian’s gaze.

He did not look away.

"Come eat," he said.

Before she could answer, he crossed the room and gently took the tablet and stylus from her hands.

He was close enough for her to catch the clean scent of mint on his skin. Eira’s breath caught, and she quickly lowered her eyes.

Alpha Killian straightened. "Are you coming?"

"I’m coming."

She followed him toward the dining room.

This was not her first visit to Number One, but tonight felt different. Alpha Killian wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves pushed to his forearms.

His tie was still perfectly knotted, and his long strides were slow enough for her to keep pace beside him.

Mrs. Jones had set two places at the table.

"Alpha, I forgot something in the kitchen," Mrs. Jones said sweetly. "Would you mind getting it for me?"

Alpha Killian raised a brow.

Since when did he run errands in his own house?

Then he noticed the empty space on the table. One dish was missing from the dinner spread.

His gaze shifted to Mrs. Jones.

She gave him an innocent smile.

Alpha Killian understood at once.

Without a word, he turned and walked into the kitchen.

A wide white bowl sat waiting on the counter. Linguine glistened under a light coating of olive oil, garlic, lemon, and red pepper flakes. Seared shrimp rested on top, pink and golden around the edges. Fresh parsley added a bright touch, and a little extra chili oil shone across the surface.

The smell of garlic and spice filled the kitchen.

Alpha Killian lifted the bowl and carried it back to the dining room.

Eira blinked when he placed it in front of her.

Her plate was already crowded with roasted vegetables, sourdough, and a serving of rice. Now she had a full bowl of pasta as well.

She looked from the bowl to Mrs. Jones.

"Am I supposed to eat all of this?"

"Heavens, no, sweetheart." Mrs. Jones laughed. "Pick whatever you like. But you should try the linguine. It’s homemade."

Eira glanced at Killian.

He had returned to his seat and looked completely calm, as if he had not just walked into the kitchen to bring her a separate meal.

She reached for her fork and twirled a small amount of pasta around it. The sauce smelled fresh and sharp, with just enough chili to warm her mouth without overpowering the shrimp.

She took a bite.

The garlic was rich but not heavy. The lemon cut through the oil, and the shrimp were tender instead of rubbery. The pasta was cooked perfectly.

Eira lifted her eyes.

Both Alpha Killian and Mrs. Jones were watching her.

Her chewing slowed under the weight of their attention. She swallowed.

"What?"

"How is it?" Mrs. Jones asked.

Killian’s expression remained unreadable, but his silver eyes stayed fixed on Eira’s face.

Eira took another bite before answering.

"It’s good."

Killian’s jaw tightened slightly.

Mrs. Jones noticed and smiled. "Just good?"

Eira looked at the bowl again. "Very good."

The tension in Killian’s shoulders eased by a fraction.

Mrs. Jones beamed.

"That pasta is the Alpha’s doing. He peeled the shrimp himself, made the sauce from scratch, and stood over the skillet like a man defusing a bomb."

"Mrs. Jones."

"What? It’s true."

Eira stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth.

"He made this?"

Alpha Killian leaned back in his chair. "I cooked it."

The answer was so direct that Eira inhaled at the wrong moment.

She coughed.

Both Alpha Killian and Mrs. Jones moved at once.

Alpha Killian pulled a linen napkin from the table and held it out. Mrs. Jones hurried to pour water from the glass pitcher.

Alpha Killian frowned as Eira’s cheeks flushed and her eyes watered.

"What?" he asked. "You think I’d poison you?"

"No."

She took the napkin from him and dabbed at her mouth.

His fingers brushed hers.

The contact lasted less than a second, but the warmth of it traveled up her hand.

Eira quickly pulled back.

She had not expected him to cook for her.

The head of one of the oldest Packs in the country had stood in his own kitchen, peeled shrimp, chopped parsley, and made her dinner with his own hands.

"Here you go, honey." Mrs. Jones pressed the glass of water into Eira’s hand.

Eira drank half of it, then placed the glass beside her bowl.

She looked at Killian. "Why did you cook?"

"For you."

The answer landed with blunt force.

Eira stared at him.

For one wild second, she wanted to stand up, walk out of the dining room, and keep walking until the heat in her face faded.

Alpha Killian noticed the subtle turn of her feet. Even while sitting, her body had angled toward the hallway.

He had pushed too far.

Rowan stirred deep in his chest.

[She is frightened.]

Killian’s gaze softened.

[Not frightened, ]he corrected silently. [Overwhelmed.]

[Then bring her closer.]

Alpha Killian ignored the wolf and leaned back in his chair.

"Fair is fair," he said. "You made me those breakfast sandwiches this morning. The ones the size of my fist."

Eira frowned.

"You forgot what you said."

"I’ve said a lot of things to you, Killian."

From behind them, Mrs. Jones murmured, "That may be the first time anyone has accused the Alpha of talking too much."