"Kaya," Veer said, his voice so dangerously quiet and smooth that it echoed off the concrete walls like the grinding of tectonic plates. He took a slow, measured step forward, his unblinking golden eyes fixed entirely on the half-naked man in the jar. "Why does the handbag have legs?"
Kaya didn't even flinch as the overhead lights sparked and the heavy concrete beneath her bare feet began to vibrate. She simply turned her head, looking at her violently jealous husband with deadpan, morning-deprived exhaustion.
"Because if he stayed in his snake form, he takes up the whole jar and it's annoying to look at," Kaya replied flatly, holding out her empty coffee mug toward him. "Give me the pancakes. And stop crushing the silver, Veer. You know how hard it is to find matching platters."
