Chapter 134: What in the actual fuck?

Nerrisa’s POV

I shared a bed and a room with Isabella last night.

She insisted, claiming she was scared of the dark, so I eventually relented.

It wasn’t bad.....Well, maybe except for all the cuddling. I have discovered that Isabella likes to cuddle. A lot.

The woman practically wrapped herself around me the entire night. At some point, I tried moving to the other side of the bed, but she followed me. I even tried sleeping with my back turned to her, only to wake up with her arm draped across my waist.

I’m beginning to suspect that her fear of the dark was just an excuse to get someone to cuddle with.

Needless to say, my body hurts from all the cuddling she did.

I woke up this morning, freshened up, and borrowed one of Isabella’s outfits. Luckily, we’re the same size, so the clothes fit perfectly.

Today is supposed to be some kind of family dinner, which explains why I’m currently standing in the kitchen with one of Lysander’s aunts, learning how to cut tomatoes.

And apparently, I’m terrible at it.

"No, no, child. Not like that."

I stare down at the tomato on the chopping board.

What’s wrong with it now? I’ve been cutting tomatoes for what feels like an eternity, and somehow, none of my efforts seem to meet Aunt Susan’s standards.

"You’re making them too big. They need to be smaller."

I look at the pieces I’ve already cut.

They’re tomatoes. Not diamonds. Does the size really matter that much?

I suppress the comment before it escapes my mouth and try again.

Aunt Susan watches me for a few seconds before shaking her head.

"Ah. Just leave it, child. Go check on the chicken before it burns."

I gladly put the knife down. Finally. An assignment I might actually survive.

I move towards the stove and check the chicken cooking in the pot. Aunt Susan reminds me that it’s supposed to be on low heat, so I adjust the knob and move towards the potatoes. I lift the lid, stare at them for a moment, then put it back even though have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be looking for.

Isabella informed me earlier that we’re making paella.

Whatever that is.

Apparently, it’s a traditional Spanish dish. She explained it to me while we were getting dressed, but I had already lost interest halfway through her explanation.

All I know is that there’s rice involved, seafood, chicken, and a whole lot of ingredients I cannot pronounce.

I’m beginning to think this family takes food very seriously.

Isabella escaped the kitchen a while ago after failing to cut the tomatoes to Aunt Susan’s satisfaction.

Traitor.

She abandoned me here to suffer alone.

I turn around just as Aunt Susan walks back into the kitchen.

"Here, take this." She hands me the knife. "Get back to chopping the tomatoes, child. I’ll be back soon."

I stare at her.

"Again?"

She gives me a look.

"Do you want to learn or not?"

I swallow my complaints.

"Yes, Aunt Susan."

"Good child."

She pats my hair before walking out.

I sigh and pick up the knife, I might as well get it over with.

I return to the cutting board and try to mimic the way she had been cutting the tomatoes. Thin slices, then smaller pieces. I concentrate so hard that my tongue almost slips between my lips.

I don’t even hear the footsteps behind me until...

"That’s not the way Aunt Susan likes them to be cut."

I jump, the knife slips, slicing through my finger.

"Shit!"

I drop it immediately and clutch my hand, turning around to see who the hell thought sneaking up on me was a good idea.

Lysander.

Of course.

He’s standing a few feet away, watching me with an expression I cannot quite read.

"Look what you’ve done," I mutter, pressing my injured finger.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he stalks towards me.

"You’re bleeding, little rabbit."

Little rabbit?

I blink.

What happened to little riot?

I barely have time to question the sudden change in nickname before he’s standing directly in front of me.

I instinctively shift backwards, but my back meets the kitchen counter and there’s nowhere else to go.

He reaches for my hand, gently pulling it away from my body.

"Let me see."

"It’s just a cut."

He ignores me, his fingers closing around mine, and he examines the wound with a strange intensity.

It’s not particularly deep, but blood is beginning to gather around the cut.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a handkerchief, and carefully wraps it around my finger.

I watch him in silence noticing that Something is off. I can’t quite explain it, but there’s something about him that feels different today.

His expression is softer than usual. His touch is strangely careful, and he hasn’t made a single sarcastic remark about my inability to cut vegetables.

That alone should concern me.

"You’re going to have to be more careful, little rabbit."

I stare at him.

"Since when do you call me that?"

He looks up.

"Call you what?"

"Little rabbit."

His lips twitch and he lets out a quiet chuckle.

I narrow my eyes.

Who is this man, and what has he done with my husband?

Before I can question him further, a voice comes from behind his shoulder.

"What the fuck, man?"

I freeze.

The voice is deep, masculine, and sounds strangely familiar.

Slowly, I lift my eyes.

There’s another man standing a few feet behind Lysander.

I stare at him, then I look at the man holding my injured finger, then back at the other man.

What in the actual fuck?

For a moment, I genuinely wonder if I’ve hit my head somewhere and nobody bothered to tell me.

I blink a few times to clear the haze.

The man behind Lysander looks between us, his eyebrows raised.

"Are you fucking serious?"

The man infront of me doesn’t even turn around.

I look over my husband’s shoulder only to find myself staring at my husband.

Again.

What in the actual fuck?

I pull my hand away slightly, forgetting about the cut.

"Lysander?"

The man holding my hand looks down at me.

"I’m Nyox. Little rabbit. " he says clearly amused.

My eyes widen and I look between them again, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.

"Why aree there two of you?"