Sure enough, there was a crisis of epic proportions.
A sharp knock on the door slammed an end to what had been very clearly not a relationship-related argument, despite how heated it had gotten.
Riley nearly ignored it just to win the last word, but Kael's casual, "It's your mother," stopped him cold.
"Mom?" Riley repeated, caught between confusion and mild panic.
"Sweetheart," came the warm reply through the door. "Is it a bad time? I came to tell you about dinner, because I've managed to finish cooking."
"Oh—thank you, Mom. I'll come over."
"Silly boy," she chuckled. "While it is not much, please invite the Dragon Lord too, so we can thank him properly."
Dinner.
Cooking.
Those two words hit Orien like a bolt of divine inspiration. He knew—he just knew—that the ingredients had to be from the sacred sanctuary known as the supermarket. And obviously, it was his solemn duty to arrive first and claim the choicest treasures.
