Ezra woke up the night after the warehouse battle, his body free of any aches from the previous night's exertion.
The safe house was modest compared to the luxury of the penthouse they had called home, but it provided the necessary protection. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his muscles slowly easing.
Moving to the living room, Ezra was greeted by the sight of Olivia carefully preparing dinner. The aroma of the rich, nourishing blood filled the room accompanied by the familiar aroma of chicken. Ezra inhaled, taking in the scent. "Marinated blood chicken."
Olivia moved gracefully, an apron tied around her waist, highlighting her curves. She looked up and gave a tiny smile as she saw him.
"Good evening, Ezra," she said, her voice steady. "I thought you might be hungry."
Ezra nodded, feeling the thirst gnawing at him. "Thanks, Olivia. I could use something to eat."
