"What's your favorite food?"
She paused.
Malvor froze.
She tucked a finger into her book to mark her place and finally—finally—looked up at him.
Undivided attention.Glorious attention.Somewhere, angels were singing. Choirs of them.
He tried—not entirely successfully—not to let his eagerness show.
"I'm not picky," she said, her tone even."But I love dessert. I go through phases of what food I like best at any time."
Malvor blinked.
Then, slow as a cat stretching in the sun, he grinned.
"Dessert, hmm?" He steepled his fingers."Well, Annie cupcake, I think that means I have no choice but to test your current phase."
Anastasia sighed, clearly regretting ever speaking.
"Malvor—"
Too late.
He snapped his fingers.
The space between them shimmered, and suddenly, the table was filled with every kind of dessert imaginable.
Cakes, pastries, chocolates, fruit tarts, puddings, soufflés—some recognizable, some entirely alien creations of his own chaotic design. The air filled with the scent of warm vanilla, cinnamon, and melting sugar.
Anastasia blinked at the overwhelming display, then looked back at him, unimpressed.
"That was unnecessary."
Malvor smirked, leaning back with a very self-satisfied expression.
"Ah, but was it, Annie sugarplum? Or are you just afraid I might actually impress you?"
She stared at him.
Then, with excruciating patience, she reached forward, picked up a fork, and took a bite of a perfectly crafted slice of cake.
Chewed. Swallowed.
Then went back to her book.
Malvor stared.
"That's it?!" he demanded.
Another page turned.
"It's good."
Malvor dragged a hand down his face.
This woman was going to kill him.
Anastasia finished her slice of cake, wiped her fingers on a napkin, and stood.
Without a word, she grabbed a few more things—a selection of chocolates, another small piece of cake, a fruit cream, and a tart.
Malvor watched her with rapt attention, chin propped on his hand as if she were performing the most fascinating act he'd ever witnessed.
She sat back down, completely unbothered by him, reading as she sampled her new selections.
Malvor, of course, took this as an opportunity to launch into another completely fabricated tale.
"Ah, Annie darling," he sighed dramatically, lounging back in his seat,"I see you're enjoying the fruits of my labor. Quite literally, actually."
She didn't look up.
"You see, that chocolate? Those pastries? They come from my world.A world of rolling cocoa hills, where rivers flow with molten caramel and mountains are made of spun sugar."
He gestured as if painting the scene in the air.
"I toiled endlessly in those fields, harvesting each cocoa bean by hand, sweat glistening on my perfectly sculpted form—"
Anastasia bit into a piece of chocolate.
"—Day and night, I worked, my tears salting the caramel rivers, my blood staining the sugar plains—"
She sipped her water.
"—The people of the land cried out, 'Malvor, oh mighty and selfless one, you must rest!'But no, I said, 'Not until my Annie sweetpea has her dessert!'"
She finished the last of her tart, stood, and—to his absolute delight—grabbed another plate.
This time, she selected a variety of things, but one stood out:A glowing purple gelatinous substance that pulsed faintly as she set it down.
Malvor grinned.
"Hmm. Brave."
Anastasia ignored him, flipping another page as she methodically worked through her new selections.
He continued, undeterred.
"The cocoa trees, Annie lovebug, were particularly temperamental. I had to sing to them, you see—"
She picked up a piece of chocolate.
"—A very specific, very ancient hymn—"
She sipped her water.
"—A song that could only be performed at twilight under the glow of the caramel moon—"
And then—without hesitation, without fanfare—she picked up the glowing purple slime with her fork, took a bite, and...
Moaned.
Malvor stopped speaking.
No, correction—his entire brain short-circuited.
His mouth hung open, his entire body physically malfunctioning as his mind completely abandoned him.
What.What in the hell.What in the actual, cosmic, divine, transcendent hell was THAT?!
The sound had been innocent. Thoughtless. Pure, genuine enjoyment.
But it wrecked him.
His brain flatlined.
A thousand thoughts tried to form, none of them coherent.
Had she—?Was she even—?What just—?
Anastasia, oblivious to his absolute downfall, took another bite, chewing thoughtfully.
"Hmm," she mused."That's really good."
Malvor physically had to restart himself.
He snapped his mouth shut, sat up straight, and gripped his own knee to stabilize reality.
He cleared his throat.
"I—I know," he managed."Obviously. That was… intentional."
She took another bite, her absolutely devastating bright blue eyes scanning her book as if nothing had happened.
Malvor inhaled sharply.
This—This—This was dangerous.
"Annie! What in the actual flames of hell was that?" Malvor sputtered, his brain finally managing to reboot after its catastrophic failure.
Anastasia, in all her insufferable, infuriating, completely unbothered glory, turned another damn page.
And then—shrugged.
She SHRUGGED.
"Bloody hells, woman!" he all but shouted, gesturing wildly."That damn noise you made!"
She finally looked up, meeting his gaze with those impossibly blue eyes. Calm. Detached.
"What noise?"
Malvor gawked at her.
"Oh, oh, oh, Annie, my Little Orphan Annie," he drawled, voice dripping with melodrama,"going to play coy now?"
She shrugged again.
INFURIATING. WOMAN.
His hands clenched into fists. His jaw ticked. His entire divine being vibrated with unprocessed frustration.
And then—he growled.
Freaking growled.
A low, irritated, completely undignified sound that rumbled deep in his chest before he could stop it.
Anastasia blinked, tilting her head slightly.
"Did you just—"
"No," he snapped, cutting her off, straightening his perfectly tailored suit as if that could somehow restore his dignity."Absolutely not."
Her lips twitched.
Oh.
Oh, she was enjoying this.
Malvor inhaled through his nose, recalibrating his entire existence.
He was a god. A GOD. A chaos god!He had unraveled empires, caused celestial wars, shaped reality itself with nothing but a whim!
And yet.
This woman.
This entirely mortal woman.
Had just shrugged him into a meltdown.
No. This was not over.