Lycan king's substitute breeder

Chapter fifty four

Oregon

Vivian chewed slowly, savoring the taste of the food. She closed her eyes and smiled. When she opened her eyes, she looked at me.

"How is the food?" I asked, raising a brow.

"It's delicious!" she exclaimed, giving me a thumbs up. "Wow, you cook well. You really put in a lot of effort and it's worth it."

I let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you like it," I said. "I was a little nervous since I've never cooked for someone before. But I wanted to make something special for you, and I'm glad it came out great."

"Here, taste it," she said, holding the spoon up to my lips. I opened my mouth, ready to take a bite of whatever delicious treat she had prepared.

But just as I was about to sink my teeth into the morsel, she pulled the spoon away and took a bite herself! I was left standing there, my mouth open, staring at her in shock. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

Did she really just tease me with a bite of food, only to eat it herself?

"It's so nice that I can't share," she said, giving a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, but you will have to eat yours."

I gave a half-hearted pout but took a few bites anyway. The flavor was truly exquisite, and the texture was just right. "It's delicious," I said, giving a nod.

"It's good, right?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, it's delicious as usual," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"You should start your cooking show!" she joked, and I laughed.

"Oh…" she giggled, pointing at my face.

"What?" I asked, slightly alarmed. I tried to look in the mirror by the side, but she gently pulled my face to hers, and our eyes locked. I felt a flutter in my chest.

"Hold on," she whispered and took her gaze down, stretched her arm towards me, and picked something off my lips. My eyes widened in surprise when I felt her warm and soft touch.

"What is that?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"It's just a piece of grain," she said with a smile, holding it up for me to see.

"Oh," I said, feeling a little embarrassed for having asked. We returned to our plates, the atmosphere still light and friendly.

"By the way," she said, "Who taught you to cook? Your food is so delicious and well-prepared. I'm surprised you can even find your way around a kitchen, let alone cook a meal like this. Was it your mother who taught you?" She looked at me, a slight smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "No, my mother wasn't much of a cook," I said quietly. "She never really taught me anything about cooking. Would it be hard to believe if I said I have never tasted her meals before?"

"Oh my!" she exclaimed. "Then who taught you to cook so well?"

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "My father," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned forward, her eyes wide. "Your father?" she asked, her voice just as quiet.

I nodded, not wanting to meet her gaze.

"Your father must have been a great cook," she said. "You're so skilled now. I bet he would be proud of you and how well you can cook." She smiled at me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

I nodded and tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. The silence hung between us for a moment before I spoke up again. "Aren't you curious?" I asked.

"Curious? Curious about what?" she asked, forcing a nervous laugh.

"Curious about what happened to him? You have never seen him, have you?" I asked.

She sighed, placing her hand gently on my face. "You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with," she said softly. "I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

I looked up at her, and for a moment, I felt the tears stinging my eyes. I blinked them away, surprised that I had even felt like crying. But I gave her a small smile, and she returned it.

"Let's not dwell on that," she said, her tone light. "Let's just enjoy our meal." She smiled at me and took a bite of her food.

I returned her smile and picked up my fork again. We ate in silence, only pausing to chat about inconsequential things. After we finished our meal, we gathered the dishes and took them to the kitchen. I reached for the sink, but Vivian stopped me.

"I'll wash," she said.

"No," I said as I soaked the dishes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a playful smile on her face. "You should go to sleep. I can take care of this."

I shrugged and made to leave the kitchen, but she stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm. "Wait, let me at least help you dry," she said.

"No, it's fine," I said. "I've got it."

She nodded and let me go, watching as I dried the dishes and put them away. Then, she followed me to the door.

"What are you doing? You should go and sleep. I will take care of it," I said.

She smiled and nodded, then left. Finally, I was done with washing the plates and other cutlery and arranged them. I also tidied up the kitchen and then moved back to her bedroom.

"I'm leaving now. Goodnight," I said and waved.

She blinked her eyes, simply staring at me. I gave her one last smile before heading to the door. I was about to open it when her voice stopped me.

"Please don't leave," she whispered.

I turned to look at her, my heart pounding in my chest. "What do you mean?" I asked.

She blushed and looked down at her hands. "I just mean... could you stay with me tonight?" she said, her voice barely audible. "You don't have to do anything. I just... would like the company."

I felt my own cheeks redden and tried to find the words to respond. "I - I can do that," I stammered.

She sat up on the bed, her gaze meeting mine. "So you'll stay with me tonight?" she asked, her voice hushed.

I stepped toward her. We stood inches apart, our eyes locked together. I was frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

Then, she took my hand in hers. Her touch was electric, and I felt a jolt of something - excitement, maybe? - course through my body.

"I - I'll stay," I said, my voice almost trembling.