“Yes,” Saira said. “This fish and the meat here… it tastes very different to what we’re used to. But we’re getting used to it.”

“The fish are easier to catch,” said a voice from my left.

I turned to see who had spoken. A handsome young man—he looked no older than twenty—with sandy blond hair that licked the sides of his face. He had a broad forehead and hazel eyes.

“And your name is?”

“Micah.”

I reached out to shake his hand and smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Micah.”

It truly was a pleasant surprise to see how easy to please our guests were. They seemed to be grateful just to have clean beds, fresh water and food, basic amenities everyone in The Shade took for granted.

Brett started handing out skewers to the werewolves, who began eating hungrily. He looked at me apologetically.

“It’s a shame you can’t try any. This batch is scrumptious.” He licked his thumb as he removed three fish from a skewer and guzzled them down.

“That’s kind of you, Brett.”

I had to admit that I did miss food. Often. Blood became so boring. Especially animal blood. Mealtimes were just a means of sustenance. There was never any pleasure in them. I’d tried eating regular food a few times, but I’d had a similar reaction to Derek’s the time I’d tried to stuff toast down his mouth. It was tasteless and I wasn’t able to digest it. I’d tried eating my favorite breakfast, toast with jam, but each attempt had resulted in a severe stomach ache that had lasted for days afterward.

I moved over, squishing closer to Micah as Brett plodded toward me, attempting to sit on a patch of sand that was clearly far too small for him.

I watched with a mixture of intrigue and disgust as the ogre devoured his meal. It was fascinating how he used his tusks. His teeth seemed to be all around quite blunt. It was his tusks that he pressed the fish against, tearing the flesh into pieces.

No wonder they always look so greasy.

“Micah here caught these fish,” he said through a mouthful, pointing a sticky finger in Micah’s direction while spraying pieces of meat down the back of a female werewolf sitting directly in front of him.

“Ugh! Brett!” She stood up and began shaking herself down, brushing away the meat which had crept down the back of her collar. “How many times have I told you not to sit behind me when you eat?”

“Sorry,” he blurted, wiping his mouth with the edge of his waistcoat.

I had to fight to suppress a grin. I think I’m going to like Brett. He certainly seemed to be the gentle giant Matteo and Saira had made him out to be.

“So, Micah, you’re a fisherman?” I said.

Micah smiled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“He’s the best we have,” Saira said fondly. “He always comes back with the juiciest catches…”

I chatted with Saira, Brett and Micah for about an hour before standing up and brushing the sand off my clothes. They seemed to be more than content with their setup. None of them voiced any complaints even when I asked the whole group. My business with the wolves was done for now.

My vow to bring Derek and Kiev together still playing on my mind, instead of going straight back home, I decided to pay an unexpected visit to Kiev.

I approached the vampires’ stretch of beach and knocked on Kiev and Mona’s front door.

Mona answered the door.

“Hi, Sofia. What brings you here?”

“I wanted to talk to Kiev again. It’s about Derek.”

“Oh.” She gave me a knowing glance and rolled her eyes. “Good luck with that.”

She swung open the door, allowing me entrance.

“Kiev!” Mona called up the staircase.

There was a click of a bolt and the sound of a door creaking open. The floorboards groaned overhead and Kiev descended the stairs. His dark hair was wet and he wore nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

“You could have put something on,” Mona said, wrinkling her nose as she looked Kiev over.

“Mrs. Novak could have warned of her visit in advance,” he replied, eyeing me steadily.

She rolled her eyes and looked back at me. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Kiev's manners are still a work in progress… Well, I’ll leave you two to it. I’m off to see if there’s anything left over of Brett’s cooking.”

I wished that she wouldn’t go. It felt so awkward to be standing here alone with the half-naked vampire.

I averted my eyes from his rippling muscles to the floorboards and walked briskly into the living room. He glided in after me and drew up a chair at the table. He gestured that I take a seat.

I sat down on the sofa at the opposite end of the room, as far as possible from him. He leaned against the edge of the dining table. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gazed down at me.

“Well? What does her highness want with me?”

“It’s, uh, about my husband.”

His mood darkened instantly. His jaw tightened, his biceps tensed.

My husband’s name always had been a trigger word for Kiev. I remembered how it would bring about fits of violence when I’d been under his care in The Blood Keep.

Ignoring his reaction, I continued. “I’m trying to find a way to make things less uncomfortable for the two of you, and the rest of us, and I could use your cooperation.”

His gaze remained steely.

“Stop being so passive-aggressive around him. I’m trying to get him to do the same. But it would make my job a hell of a lot easier if you threw me a bone. Look, Kiev, I’m not asking you to be friends with him. I just want the two of you to grow up.”