19. Merrick

"It's raining," Fiora says, "so you idiots can stand out here and get soaked, or you can come inside."

Soren and I exchange a glance before we follow her into the warmth of her cozy cottage. The interior is rather quaint, with an attractive, rustic charm to it. Fiora disappears into the kitchen, returning moments later with a pair of towels, which she tosses at us without a word. We take them gratefully.

"So why does Braken have so much control over you? You both have literally stalked my every move. Don't you have lives?" she asks.

Soren is the first to break the silence. With a half-hearted smirk, he wipes his drenched hair with the towel, his gaze never leaving Fiora. "You don't see either one of us complaining. Maybe we like stalking your every move."

Fiora crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the door frame as she considers Soren's words. The kitchen light casts a soft glow around her, sending shadows dancing across her face. Her expression is guarded yet curious, a strange mixture that intrigues me.

"I can't tell if you're flirting or not," she says. "You do know I'm engaged to marry your buddy, right?"

"He shares," I answer with a shrug.

Soren snorts at my comment, shaking his head as he continues drying himself. His eyes flicker to mine, a silent understanding passing between us. Fiora's eyebrows furrow at my words, her gaze narrowing on me.

"Shares?" Her voice is incredulous. "Do you really expect me to believe that Braken is okay with sharing his fiancée?"

I chuckle at the genuine shock written all over her face. She's so delightfully innocent in her outrage, it only makes me want to tease her even more.

"Well, we do have an... unconventional relationship," Soren says lightly. "Besides, I thought you didn't want this marriage?"

Fiora opens her mouth to respond but hesitates, as if considering her next words carefully. Her gaze drifts between the both of us before she sighs in resignation and turns away.

"I don't," she concedes, sounding weary, "but that doesn't mean I want to be caught up in your twisted games either."

The room falls into silence for a moment before Soren chuckles softly, breaking the tension.

"Well," he says nonchalantly, "I guess we'll just have to convince you otherwise then."

Fiora doesn't respond, but the slight blush creeping onto her cheeks tells me that maybe, just maybe, she's intrigued, despite herself. As she leaves the room with a dismissive wave over her shoulder, I share a knowing look with Soren.

This isn't going to be as straightforward as Braken led us to believe. In fact, this could be the most challenging job we've ever had—as simple as it seems on the surface. Something about Fiora captivates us, something more than just her fiery rebellion and her refusal to fit into the roles our society imposes on her. She's alluringly stubborn and fiercely independent, qualities that are simultaneously both refreshing and challenging.

"Maybe we should just leave her for Braken. Maybe stick to monogamy for those two?" I say as the sounds of Fiora's movements echo from the other room.

He shrugs, leaning against a wooden beam, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smirk. "And what? Ruin our fun? I think not."

I roll my eyes at him. He has always been the more reckless one, but I can't really disagree with him. This is different, exciting even. After all the casual sexual encounters we've had, a little something with more flavor like Fiora might be exactly what we need.

"We can't afford to get distracted and forget why we're here, Soren. We have to keep her safe. Braken would have our heads if we let anything happen to her," I offer to counter his cavalier attitude.

Soren waves me off, settling comfortably into one of Fiora's plush armchairs.

"It's just a babysitting job. We could do this in our sleep," he murmurs, confidence coloring his tone. "And, besides, do you really think I'm going to lose focus?" He raises an eyebrow at me, a playful glint in his eyes suggesting just the opposite. "I'm extremely focused when I play."

"Ha-ha," I say, with a roll of the eyes.

"It's your turn for patrol tonight. Do you want me to stay?" Soren breaks into my thoughts. His question is quiet but certain, his gaze still on Fiora who's now bustling around, tidying up before bed. "I don't mind, but I was thinking I'd go check in on The Vault. We've been neglecting our business lately. And Locke and Storee just got back from their getaway, so I know Locke is busy with his other business dealings."

"I got it. You're right. You should go make an appearance and make sure there aren't any fires that need putting out."

Soren nods thoughtfully, pushing himself out of the plush armchair with a sigh. He stretches lazily, like a cat who's just woken from a long nap. "Braken should be by in a couple of hours. I'll see you at home. We both need some rest."

I smirk. "Yeah, rest."

After gathering his belongings, Soren strides toward the door, pausing for a moment to glance at Fiora, who's still busying herself around the room. "Don't drive him too crazy," he warns her with a teasing wink.

Fiora rolls her eyes at him but doesn't respond, and moments later the front door closes behind him.

"Well," I say, throwing a sidelong glance at Fiora, who has now stopped her tidying and is observing me pointedly. "Now it's just you and me." I look toward the door. "I don't have to stay inside. I can go back outside and?—"

"Stay. It's storming out there." She swallows. "And I could use the company."

Regardless of her stubborn facade, she's got a soft side; it's just buried deep under layers of pride and self-reliance. Something about seeing that vulnerability softens my resolve.

"All right." I move toward one of the empty chairs. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stay inside for a while."

The storm outside rages on, the wind howling and lashing at the windows like some ferocious beast waiting to break in. But inside, there's just calmness and quiet. Fiora doesn't seem as tense as before. Maybe because she's no longer outnumbered.

A loud crackle of thunder reverberates through the room, making Fiora jump. I can't resist chuckling. She shoots me a glare that would have anyone else cowering in fear, but all it does is amuse me more.

"Heathens Hollow can have some crazy storms," I say.

"What is it with you two?" she asks, her gaze meeting mine with curiosity and something else—intrigue maybe? "Why are you so intent on protecting me?"

"We told you. Braken?—"

Fiora rolls her eyes at that. "I know that," she says with a hint of exasperation as she crosses her arms over her chest. "But why did you agree?"

I pause for a moment, taken aback by her question. It's not something Soren or I have ever considered. Braken's orders were pretty straightforward, and we'd simply followed them without question. But there's something in Fiora's gaze, an earnest need for answers I can't very well ignore.

"Well"—I lean back against the armchair, my eyes never leaving her face—"it's a fair question."

Her reaction to my answer—a small lift of her eyebrows, as if she hasn't expected me to entertain her curiosity—makes me smile. I shrug casually, even though my heart is pounding. "You're valuable to him," I say, "and that makes you valuable to us."

She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. "That's it? No ulterior motives?"

"Ulterior motives?" I feign shock, but a grin is tugging at the corner of my mouth. "We are men of honor, Fiora."

She rolls her eyes at that, but the ghost of a smile is evident on her face. It softens her features, makes her look less like the hardened woman she portrays herself to be and more... human.

"There might be one more reason," I add, after a moment.

She raises an eyebrow at me, intrigue sparking in her eyes. "And what would that be?"

I lean forward in the chair, my elbows resting on my knees as I meet her gaze head-on. "Well, maybe we want a taste before you become a taken woman."

Her surprised laugh echoes around the room just as another strike of thunder shakes the house. Neither of us jumps this time. We're too engrossed in our conversation for that.

"Why does that matter? You both said that Braken shares." She leans back in her chair and studies me before adding, "I think you want to fuck me."

I nod. "Observant."

"But I also think you want to fuck Braken," she adds.

I raise an eyebrow at that, taken aback by her bold statement. "That's quite a leap." I lean back in my chair again, running a hand through my hair. "But why do you say so?"

She smiles at me, a slow coy expression that hides something deeper. "Am I wrong?"

My heart gives a flutter at her words, but I maintain my nonchalant facade. "Soren and I like to fuck everyone."

Her eyes widen slightly at my response, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she shakes her head. "Good to know." There's a teasing glint in her eyes now, and that same spark of intrigue from before.

The woman is full of surprises.

Just when I think she's going to ask another provocative question, a sudden gust of wind shakes the house again, followed by another deafening roll of thunder. Her momentary amusement fades, replaced by that same vulnerability from before. The power flickers, causing the lights to dim before returning to their usual glow.

Fiora pulls her legs up onto her chair, wrapping her arms around them as she continues to watch me. There's a haunted look in her eyes now, as if the storm outside has brought back memories she would rather forget.

"What is it?" My voice is barely audible over the violent winds.

She doesn't respond at first, just bites her lip and looks away. When she speaks, her words are soft and distant. "I used to be scared of storms. I used to be scared of everything. Until I got old enough to know what it meant to be a Godwin. I was invincible. I was a God among men. Nothing could touch me. And then… my brother was killed. Reality sunk in. We're all mortal. Even Godwins."

That's when I notice the slight shudder of her shoulders, the quick intake of breath every time a particularly loud clap of thunder echoes through the house. In that moment, my resolve hardens once more. This time not because of an order from Braken or because there's something in it for me, but because Fiora needs me.

"You're safe here." I rise from my chair and move toward hers.

She doesn't pull away when I kneel in front of her, reaching out to gently take hold of her hand. Her eyes meet mine then—deep, dark pools filled with uncertainty and fear hidden underneath a front as violent as the storm outside.

I thread my fingers through hers, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You have nothing to fear while you're with us. Braken is working hard on finding out who killed your brother, and when he does— We will make them pay," I finish, my voice a low, dangerous growl.

The surety of my words stirs a small change in her expression. Is it hope? Relief? I can't quite tell.

Her fingers tighten around mine, and she gives me a small nod, acknowledging my promise. For the first time since we've met, I swear I detect the faintest flicker of trust.

I let the silence fill the room, allowing her to process my words and let the soothing rhythm of the rain against the window do its work. There's a strange intimacy in this moment, and I'm instantly uncomfortable.

Soren and I aren't exclusive. Far from it. We fuck, but we don't get intimate with people. That's the unspoken rule we have. And sitting here, touching Fiora is… well… it's borderline breaking a rule.

Without warning, a loud crash comes from somewhere in the house, followed by an eerie whistling as wind finds its way through an unsecured window or door. Fiora jumps at the noise, her eyes widening as she looks at me—a silent plea for reassurance.

"I'll handle it," I say. "Why don't you go on to bed. Braken will be here in a few hours. I'll wait for him on the couch."

Fiora nods, her gaze lingering on me a moment longer before she rises slowly, releasing my hand.

"Goodnight," she says.

"Goodnight," I repeat when I see that the back door has blown open but there is no damage from the storm.

Left alone, I take a deep breath, trying to shake the peculiar warmth still lingering from our exchange. This is not what I signed up for. We are tasked to protect the Godwin heir, not to console or offer comfort. Maybe fuck her. Maybe.

But not to do anything beyond that.