into the chicken coop. She had felt bad. It seemed to her that all the
chickens were looking at her like they knew she’d eaten their sister
last night. There was judgment in those little black chicken eyes. If
she hadn’t been so hungry, she would have run out because those
beaks looked dangerous. But her stomach had warred with her fear of
being pecked, and hunger won.
She had gathered five eggs when she heard a low sound. She had
looked across the yard and seen Cian milking a cow. He still had to be
told her name every few minutes, but he seemed happy enough to
follow her around and do the odd chore. He hadn’t tried to get back
into bed. Meg had feared she would spend the day coaxing him out.
Instead, he shadowed her.
Now he sat patiently, watching and drinking milk from a mug.
Meg had tried it, and despite her fear that warm milk would be gross,
she found it slightly sweet.
There was a strange little oven that Beck had used last night, but
there was no stove top. There was a grill in the hearth, though. After
poking her head into all the cabinets, she came up with an iron skillet.
She might never have been camping, but she’d read enough books to
know how to cook. At least in theory.
“Are you hungry?” Meg smiled at Cian as she cracked the eggs
into the skillet. She used a fork to whisk them. There were only four
forks, two knives, and three spoons. None of them matched.
“I am.” Cian studied her for a moment, his eyes moving across her
r /> face. “Did my brother send you to take care of me?”
“Yes.” She gave him a sad nod. It was the truth. Beck had bought
her to save his brother. She had a job to do.
“You’re very pretty,” Cian said, almost shyly.
Bound
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