NovelEnglishChapter 323 Midnight Hunger
Third Person POV
8 Pearis
When Aubrey finally woke, it was deep into the night. Hunger gnawed at her, but more than that,
the heat roused her-Henry’s heat.
At spoint, he had climbed onto the narrow cot, arms locked tightly around her. His chest
pressed to her back, the furnace of his body soaking her skin until sweat beaded at her nape. She
shifted, only to find his hold unyielding, even in sleep, a reflexive claim he would not release.
She turned her head. In the wash of moonlight through the window, his eyes remained shut, his
breathing steady, though his brow bore the faint lines of strain. She thought of the agony he had
taken on in her stead, and something in her heart softened despite herself. She could not wake him.
Carefully, she lifted the heavy arm draped across her waist, slipped free, and eased toward the
floor.
But before her feet touched the ground, a low, husky voice broke the silence.
“Where are you going?”
She froze, then turned back. His eyes were open, sharp and lucid-he hadn’t been asleep at all.
Suppressing a sigh, she answered, “I’m going to the kitchen. I'm hungry.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“Have the staff make something.”
“It's three in the morning,” she countered. “No need to trouble anyone.”
Henry sat up, swinging his legs down. “Then I'll cwith you.”
“You can’t cook.”
“Who says | can't?” His brow arched. Cooking couldn’t be harder than leading a pack.
“You'll just get in the way.”
“I'll help,” he said simply. “Besides, I'm hungry too.”
She relented, and the two of them slipped into the lab’s small kitchen rather than the main house. The fridge
held little, so Aubrey pulled out a bundle of dry noodles.
“Looks like it’s pasta.”
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13:17 Wed, Sep 24
Chapter 323 Midnight Hunger
a3
+ Pearls.
Henry had no objection. With few ingredients, preparation was quick. He sat back and watched as she cracked
eggs, whisked them smooth, and lowered the noodles into boiling water with practiced ease.
Steam fogged the air, wrapping around her face, softening her features. The faint upward curve of her lips, the
concentration in her eyes-it made Henry's pulse thrum. Hunger twisted deeper, not just in his stomach. He tore
his gaze away before it betrayed him.
He had been starving for far too long.
“Eat.”
She set the bowl before him. He tried it, and despite himself, looked faintly surprised—her cooking was good.
When the last bite was gone and the dishes washed, Aubrey excused herself to rest. Henry followed
at once, close at her heels.
She blocked the doorway, tilting her chin up at him. “My dear brother,” she said, the word bitten
sharp, “if you've forgotten where your room is, | can send someone to guide you.”
The word “brother” was a deliberate knife. Henry’s eyes narrowed, then a sudden laugh slipped
free.
“You know,” he murmured, bracing one hand on the frto bar her from closing the door, “when
you callbrother, all | hear is play. | don’t mind if you say it a few more times.”
Her expression iced over. “Funny. A few days ago, someone swore he’d never beg again, that we
were finished. And now? Are you beggingto let you in?”
The memory of that quarrel cut, but Henry refused to be cornered. He scoffed. “I’m not begging.
The Miguel estate is mine. | go where | please. What right do you have to bar me?”
Infuriatingly, it was hard to refute. Aubrey’s face chilled.
“Fine. If you want the room, I'll leave.”
But she hadn’t taken two steps before his arms swept around her, lifting her clean off the floor.
Startled, she gasped, “Henry! What are you doing?!”
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