only been here a matter of days.
Besides, what if the archer had seen Elvi move onto his lap and saw their silhouettes
merge into one? The arrow had hit soon enough after they'd started to kiss for that to
be more than possible. Which meant they were back to his not knowing who the
target was and fretting over Elvi, which was why he'd stood guard over her while she
slept, watching over her until he heard stirring from Mabel's room and had realized he
was dozing off in the chair he'd placed next to her bed.
Sure she was safe with Mabel and DJ up and about, Victor finally took himself off to
feed and then to bed. He'd briefly considered sleeping in her room, but hadn't wanted
to do so without getting her permission first and hadn't been willing to wake her to get
it. But now he wished he had. It would have been nice to wake with her lying beside
him, to be able to roll over and slip his arms around her, pull her close and press his
nose to her neck and inhale the scent of her. Their coming together had been explosive
and he'd had trouble keeping it out of his thoughts ever since… until he'd seen the
arrow protruding from her back. That had been a bucket of ice water on such
thoughts, leaving him sick with concern and fury, a fury he hadn't been able to vent,
but had been forced to push down and ignore.
Now he felt it tugging at his emotions again and resolutely got out of bed. Anger
wouldn't help them in this matter. It would simply cloud his judgment and possibly
slow his reactions. He needed a clear head to handle the situation and keep Elvi safe.
Unfortunately, he already knew that a clear head would be hard to maintain around
Elvi. She was his lifemate. Whether the other men could read her or not, in his mind
she had made her choice by making love with him. She was his. His mind had already
accepted that and was running on overdrive, putting thoughts and ideas and plans for
the future in his head. A future they wouldn't have if she got killed.
It seemed to him that the best way to deal with the matter was to try to keep his
distance as Edward had suggested. Keeping an eye on her, but not staying close
enough to put her in harms way, and giving himself some distance in the hopes that his
brain would be able to function seemed the best way to proceed. He wasn't happy
with this bit of logic. His whole being was crying out to be close to her, but he was
going to have to ignore that to keep her safe.
It was going to be a struggle.
After showering and dressing, Victor made his way to Elvi's room, fully expecting her to
be lying peacefully in bed, getting the sleep he felt sure her body needed. Instead, he
found himself staring at an empty, unmade bed and a floor with clothes lying strewn
about.
Pulling the door closed with a snap, Victor turned and hurried downstairs, rushing into
the kitchen only to jerk to a halt in amazement.
Elvi was alive and well and presently covered with a fine dusting of flour as she worked
frantically at something on the dining room table. So were Edward, Alessandro, and
Harper.
"Is this better, Elvi?" Alessandro held up what appeared to be a pie of some sort.
"Much, Alessandro." Elvi beamed at the man. "Definitely a seller. Put it over with the
others to be filled."
"My crust keeps breaking," Edward growled impatiently, dipping his fingers in a bowl
of some liquid and then rubbing them over a crack that had appeared in the crust he
was working with.
"You're doing fine," Elvi assured him. "They always crack."
Edward muttered something under his breath, but repaired the crack and carefully
lifted the shell into a foil pie plate, releasing a small breath of relief when he managed
to do so without the shell falling apart in his hands.
"Well done," Elvi encouraged, patting his arm briefly before her gaze slipped to
Harper's efforts. The German didn't appear to be having any trouble at all with his own
pie. If anything, he was wielding the rolling pin and handling the crust with the finesse
of a professional. And Victor wasn't the only one to notice.
"'You're very good at this, Harper," Elvi said curiously. "I take it you've done this
before?"
"Hmm. I was the personal chef for emperor‐elect Maximilian I when I was younger,"
Harper informed her.
"Emperor‐elect Maximilian I?" Elvi asked uncertainly.
"The easiest way to explain it is to say he was like a king to the eastern Franks," the
man explained with a shrug.
Victor didn't think Elvi was too sure she understood, but rather than ask for a history
lesson, she nodded and turned her attention back to her own pie, deftly lifting the
crust into an aluminum pie plate.
"Does someone want to tell me why the four of you are playing Betty Crocker?" Victor