Hunter Hunter

Chapter 7

Clara cocked her head in confusion at the cookbook. 

She had never learned to cook - there was no need to learn how to cook. Cooking was left to the wives of the hunters, and she usually held meetings with other male hunters whose wives served the food. It was very rare whenever Clara had to eat alone, and even when she did eat alone, she ate out. But now that she was stuck in this glorified prison, she had nothing to do other than practice and pick up other mindless hobbies. 

Clara had no idea what saute meant, and the cookbook assumed that all the cooks new basic cooking terminology - a skill that she clearly lacked. 

Nelson walked in, shocked that his mate would be cooking in his kitchen, an act that was so docile and so domestic made his wolf purr in male satisfaction. 

"What are you making?" He asked, preparing his third coffee cup for the day. 

She shrugged, pointing at the open cookbook on the counter, "Whatever that is." Standing next to Nelson made her feel so incredibly human, and the strange thing - it felt normal. Grudgingly she admitted to herself that she kind of liked this feeling. It was something that maybe, just maybe, she could get used to.

Clara hated that she liked the feeling. Quickly, she shook it off and continue to saute, or whatever that meant. 

"You know," She said, "I'm pretty sure drinking that much coffee can kill you." 

Nelson shrugged in response, "It keeps me awake."

"Do you even sleep?" She asked, flipping her dish and plating it. 

Nelson nodded, "Yeah I do. I might be a werewolf, but I need my sleep too." 

She hesitated to take out the second slice of albacore in the pan, but plated that one too. Clara had no idea what overcame her to prepare a meal for Nelson too, but she felt like she owed him something. Not that she owed her captor anything, but maybe it was something nice that she could do. Clara wasn't a heartless soul anyways, she just killed more than the average person. 

"Here," She gruffly said, setting the two plates onto the island bar in the kitchen. 

"You made one for me?" Nelson asked, slightly surprised. He didn't expect his mate to do something like this, daresay, she might be warming up to him. 

Clara huffed, already starting to regret her decision, "Yes," She snapped, "Do you want to eat it or not?" 

"I'll eat it," He said, settling down onto the stool next to her with his cup of coffee. 

Clara let out a silent sigh of relief. For a quick second, he expected her to reject her. After all, eating the meal of one of your victims? That's dangerous. Possibly dangerous. Not that she had poisoned his meal, he saw her take both slices of albacore out of the same pan. 

She studiously ate her meal, refusing to look at the face of the man beside her. But with every bite she winced. If it wasn't clear enough that Clara couldn't cook before, it was more than clear now. Nevertheless, she choked down the rest of her fish and watched as Nelson ate the rest of his too. And to his credit, his facial expression didn't change a bit as he ate in the rest of the fish. Clara didn't bother to ask how it was, she was pretty sure that the both of them knew. 

"Thank you, it was good." He said, putting his fork down and wiping his mouth. 

Don't let him get to you Clara! No matter how nice he is. She set her water cup down, scowling at her plate. 

"Don't say that, we all know it was bad." Clara snapped, more annoyed with the fact that he was nice to her when he was supposed to be mean. Why was he so nice?