Duke Charming | Craig

Ten

It felt strange walking into the kitchen the next morning as though I hadn't been absent for a whole day. I was relieved that yesterday's menu was already planned, and that my team was more than capable of keeping an entire castle of werewolves – and humans – fed for a day.

However, that also meant that the said team would bombard me with the classic questions: Where have you been? Were you sick? Did you get lost on your way to the kitchen? Did you fall into a secret door in the floor and got stuck? Did you stumble into the naked man again?

Each question was more absurd than the others, so I couldn't help but laugh at some of them. At least this morning started on the right foot and for once, I managed to sleep more than three hours. It felt good to be rested, and it felt good knowing my curse wasn't permanent anymore.

Not for long anyway.

I came to the conclusion last night that, in order to obtain a drop of blood from my mate, I'd have to stop running from him and just...face him. Honestly, there was nothing difficult about that. It was only my crippling fear of being discovered and once again rejected that kept me from sniffing Craig out and officially introducing myself.

Goddess Three, he had to learn my name from Ash of all people. He wasn't there the day we arrived at the castle, and had he been, we would've been officially introduced, and I would've discovered sooner that we were mates.

But it was finally time to face him, as long as I kept my identity secret. Just until I've taken the potion at least.

"I'm fine, really," I assured my team, offering each of them a smile. "Ash asked me to spend the morning with her and I figure I just lost track of time."

"Of course, you can't refuse a duchess-to-be if she requests your presence for the day," Sandra agreed dramatically, busting out her proper, posh English.

"Exactly." I nodded. "Now, what did you plan for breakfast this morning?"

"Oh," Maisie hopped on the spot and grinned manically, "we're making croissants. With at least twelve types of fillings."

That's right, croissants were her favorite pastry and making them was one of her favorite tasks.

"Great, let's do it." I clapped my hands together and reached for my apron over the chair.

We dispersed to our separate working stations. Hamish was on grilling duty – sausages, bacon, mushrooms, you name it. Sandra was whipping up some cream as only she could do – she had a pair of forearms on her if I had to say so myself. And Maisie and Bonnie were helping me mix the dough for the croissants.

Well, they did the mixing and left me with the kneading work.

Not that I minded. Baking has always been my favorite hobby. Whenever my father would call in pack meetings, I'd start baking bright and early to show that I wasn't entirely worthless at all. And although they never said it out loud, I knew some of the members lived for my cream puffs and shortbread.

"Hey, just be careful with that dough, it's got an –" Maisie's sentence was cut short when my fists collided with the dough, sending a cloud of flour puffing into my face. "—air bubble."

Bonnie covered her mouth at the same time she snorted, but it was clear from her reddening face that she was holding her breath to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

I stood there, white-faced, gaping at the bowl of dough as though it told me it was cheating on me with my neighbor and was expecting their child.

And that's when Bonnie lost it and cackled. That drew the attention of Hamish and Sandra, who peered over their shoulders to see what the big joke was – only to join Bonnie in her hysterics when seeing my face.