Page 99 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

“I don’t want to leave Onyx,” I said, dropping my gaze to my lap.

“I know you don’t, love,” Briar softly responded. “Yet, if the curse truly can’t be broken as Onyx claims, I fear our only choices at this point are for you to either leave this realm or for the curse to awaken and…”

“For Onyx to kill me,” I finished for him.

Another silence passed between us, this one heavier than the last.

Frustration built in my core, the intensity of it matched only by my heartbreak. “I have to believe there’s a way to beat this. That we all can be happy. Why else would Onyx be one of my fated mates? Lupin said each of you will play a pivotal role in my destiny.”

“That’s what frightens me,” Maddox said, his blue eyes finding me. “Because the mage also warned of all the possible tragedies that may befall you. More bad than good, you told us. The demon lord, it seems, is destined to bring one of those dark futures to fruition.”

“The storm,” Callum whispered, and the hand on my thigh shook. “My gut feeling was right.”

I looked toward the window and the dark sky beyond it. Hoping like hell they were wrong. That Onyx and I weren’t destined to crash and burn, like that asteroid shooting toward that lone planet.

***

When stressed, bake something. My life’s motto. It worked for everything.

Tart-faced brothel wench trying to steal your man? Make bread and pretend the dough was her face.

Learning the person you loved was cursed to murder you the moment he realized he felt the same? Cookies were your best friend. Baking them and eating them.

With an oatmeal cookie jutting from between my lips, I hopped over to check the croissant dough. The laminated dough took time and patience, requiring several rounds of proving and folding in butter before it could be baked. But the payoff was worth the preparation time. Flaky, buttery croissants were to die for.

In all honestly, should I have been hopping around the kitchen eating cookies at like three in the morning? Probably not. But it wasn’t like I could sleep, not with visions of murdered sugarplum muffins and doom flags dancing in my head.

Hushed voices came from the corridor outside the kitchen.

I paused, cookie still between my lips, and narrowed my eyes at the archway. It took only a moment for me to figure out who those hushed voices belonged to. The scent of peaches and black cardamom gave them away.

“I know you’re out there,” I said, flipping around and putting my hands on my hips. “Might as well come out and eat some cookies. I may have made too many.”

“May have?” Rowan stepped from the shadows, his cocky gait making me smile. “I think you’ve baked enough to feed the entire army of demons.”

“Half of them at least,” Lake added, appearing beside him.

“You two should be in bed.” I slid the platter toward them, not surprised at all when Rowan sneered at it. The feisty thing didn’t like sweets.

“The rabbit’s snoring so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think.” Rowan hopped up on the kitchen island and brought a knee up, resting his arm on top. “Maybe Specs can create a sound-blocking muzzle we can strap on him when he sleeps.”

“Be nice to Callum,” I told him, trying not to laugh. My cinnamon roll of a knight did snore pretty bad though. “He can’t help it.”

“Then he needs to sleep outside.”

Lake lightly smacked Rowan’s leg with his tail.

“Fine, fine, I take it back.” Rowan shot him a look. Warmth reflected in his irises though. He’d never admit it, but he enjoyed this kind of back and forth with our wolf—tail smacks included. “You’re such a violent, fluffy bastard.”

Another whack, this one to Rowan’s butt.

“Ah, pup.” My favorite tooth made its appearance. “If you wanted to touch my ass, you could’ve just asked.”

One corner of Lake’s mouth curled up into a half-sneer. His tail, however, gave away his good mood. It softly wagged behind him.

“I’m surprised Maddox isn’t with you,” I said, casting a glance toward the corridor. “Even more surprising is that I managed to sneak out of the room without him noticing.”

“Oh, he noticed.” Rowan picked at an oatmeal cookie. “But he knew you’d stomp your little foot if he came after you, so he sent me instead. The pup followed.”