“Oh, yeah, I had almost forgotten about that,” I said. “You were going to make me a bedroom. How’s that going?”

“It is almost complete,” Kyrine replied, sounding proud of her efforts. “Just a few finishing touches remain, and it will be yours to slumber in.”

“Whatever it looks like, it’ll beat my apartment above the convenience store.”

Astrid let out a gurgled cry, and I whirled to look in her direction. The lycan had gone completely white, and I feared that something terrible had happened.

“What is it?!” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“The cake!” she said. “It was in your bedroom.”

“Fear not, little lycan,” Kyrine said with a chuckle. “I transported the cake from Jeremy’s quarters before I initiated my refurbishment. Your culinary creation is in perfect condition.”

A haze appeared between Astrid and I. It collected together, growing more dense until it took the form of the cake I’d seen earlier on the floor of the empty bedroom. As Kyrine had said, it was in perfect condition, with high tiers of pink and white icing gleaming in the bright lights of the training arena. The rich, warm smell of vanilla wafted up to us from it.

Astrid breathed a sigh of relief. She stepped to it, and picked it up with both hands then held it out to me. “Here, Jeremy. This cake is for you: our first successful Keeper.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cake from her. It was heavy in my hands, and I suddenly felt the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before. “Shall we eat it now?”

Astrid nodded emphatically, her smile proud. “Let’s!”

I raised an eyebrow. “With our hands?”

Astrid shrugged. “Why not?”

Laughing, I put the cake down and sat beside Astrid on the floor of the training hall. We each took a handful of the cake. When it touched my tongue, sugary pockets crackled audibly like popping candy.

“Wow,” I said as I winced at the sweetness. “It’s really--”

“Sweet?” Astrid asked, chewing her own mouthful. “That’s exactly how a cake’s meant to be!”

“Sweet is good.” I smacked my lips and peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

I wondered whether there were any cooks in the house whose cuisine was a happy medium between Kyrine’s prison gruel and Astrid’s candy-filled desserts. Still, the cake wasn’t so bad if I took smaller bites rather than huge mouthfuls. After a while, I got used to the sweetness and came to enjoy the dessert, most likely because it was satisfying to watch Astrid eat.