PERSEFONE POV
Thane and I came downstairs hand in hand.
Hand.
In.
Hand.
Like normal people.
Like we had not just spent the last hour doing things that would have probably made his mother pour holy water directly over our heads if she knew the details.
Which, judging by the heat still crawling up the back of my neck, she might have guessed anyway.
I tried not to think about that.
Failed.
Then the smell hit me.
Freshly brewed coffee first, dark and warm and glorious enough to make my soul sit up straight. Then butter. Pancakes. Something sweet, maybe blueberries, maybe vanilla, definitely heaven. Bacon too, sharp and salty under it all, and eggs, and toast, and something cinnamon-heavy that made my stomach remember it had priorities.
Food was one of them.
I stopped on the stairs
