Three Kings by Freydís Moon

Author:Freydís Moon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy/PNR, trans, gay, polyamorous, cozy romance, witches/modern witchcraft, cottagecore, shifter, interracial, magic, magical flora and produce, Icelandic folklore, lighthouse/small coastal town, stormy beaches, sexual tension, selkie
Publisher: NineStar Press
Published: 2022-11-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“What on God’s green earth are you doing with that chicken…?” Ethan tipped his head, watching Nico crack open a Pabst Blue Ribbon and stuff the can into the belly of the bird.

“You’ve never had beer-in-the-butt-chicken before?” Nico jerked his head backward and shot Ethan a bewildered look. “Did you really think I’d buy PBR to drink?”

“No, I can’t say I have, and I didn’t take you for a beer snob, so.” Ethan shrugged.

The lighthouse was pleasantly warm, kept cozy by a crackling fire and the hot oven. Nico’s pelt was neatly folded on the sitting chair beside the hearth, and the kitchen counter was cluttered with ingredients. Peeled potatoes boiled on the stove, and salad fixings were trimmed and chopped on a cutting board. Nico rubbed the chicken with rosemary, parsley, pureed bell pepper, and minced garlic, staring far too intently at the headless bird.

“I’m not a beer snob; I just have taste.” Nico narrowed his eyes at the chicken, obscenely skewered on the beer can. “It’ll fit in your oven, right?”

“If we adjust the rack, yes.”

“Where’s your salt and pepper?”

Ethan rounded the kitchen island and opened the cupboard. He swatted Nico’s wandering hand, halting him inches from the vial of siren marrow. “Here,” he snapped and shoved the saltshaker into his palm, standing on his tiptoes to find the pepper grinder. When Nico turned back to the chicken, Ethan hurriedly pushed the marrow between a bottle of vanilla extract and a sack of powdered sugar. He took out the pepper and set it on the counter. “How long will it take to cook?”

“An hour and a half.” Nico looked comical wearing mismatched mittens, one yellow, the other pink. He placed the chicken in the oven and crouched to stare at it, clinging to the steel handle with his nose an inch from the transparent door.

“Oh, good. Well, Peter should be home—”

A key turned in the lock, and the front door swung open.

Ethan finished his statement with a nod. “—now, I guess. Evening, darling. How was the boat?”

“Wet.” Peter uncoiled his scarf, hung it with his coat on the rack, and toed off his boots. “Gulls everywhere; harbor porpoise got chased off by a pod of orca.” He paused to sigh, shaking his head. “Damn whales swim into the shallows and scare off our catch.”

“It’s early for them, isn’t it?” Ethan asked.

Peter tipped his head, considering. “Yes and no. They’re unpredictable. Autumn, winter, early spring—all fair game.”

“Nasty behemoths,” Nico said. He took off the mittens and scanned the counter, then the pantry. “Do you two drink…? I haven’t seen anything other than beer and wine, which is fine, but I—”

“Top shelf,” Ethan and Peter said in unison.

Peter kissed Ethan’s temple as he walked by, slipping past Nico to search the pantry. He pulled an amber bottle from the shelf and tipped the label toward him. “Not the best, but it’ll keep you warm,” he said, gesturing to his belly. “How do you take your liquor?”

“However you decide to pour it,” Nico said.

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