Lisa's POV
I could still feel the grin tugging at the corner of my lips as Kael and I made our way down the corridor toward the kitchen. The entire packhouse was unusually lively today, people running around preparing for one thing or another, and the air was filled with a faint scent of roasted meat and baked bread. Kael, walking beside me, was humming some ridiculous tune under his breath like he had no care in the world, swinging his hands as if he owned the hallway.
“You know,” I said, glancing at him, “you look far too pleased with yourself for someone who just got dragged into kitchen duty.”
Kael smirked, puffing his chest like a rooster. “Kitchen duty? Please. I’m not here to cook. I’m here to supervise. Besides, you’re the one sneaking in for cookies. I’m simply escorting you.”
