19. Soren

Chapter nineteen

Soren

M y coffee this morning is a welcome distraction. The honey-sweet drink fills my senses with each inhale, masking the scent now tattooed on me. Mari's scent.

I woke up early this morning, too early.

Sleep evaded me last night. The need to take myself in hand over and over was too great. The image of her soft lips and body pressed against mine. It was too good.

My body reacts even now, picturing it.

I shift in my seat, adjusting myself.

I'm already at the table, drinking a coffee and enjoying the muffins I woke up early to make myself. Ingus and Lilly don't mind as long as I clean up.

The floorboards creak. My head jerks up.

Soft footsteps pad on the stair treads, gentle.

Mari carefully descends the stairs, Violet on her back. Ash and Olive cling to her arms.

When the children catch the scent of baked apples and clove, they detach from Mari's limbs and run to the plate of pastries.

She looks over at me, her dark gaze boring into my skin. If she knew how many times I had to jerk my cock last night to satiate myself after her touch, she would think me mad. It's a good thing she can't read my thoughts.

"Good morning, my little monsters," I say as the children run past, thoughts solely on the bounty of sugary treats sitting on the counter. "Good morning, Mariana." I smile at her, testing the waters. Will she play with me this morning, or will she shut down?

She simply nods in my direction and averts her gaze.

Shut down it is. But if that is the price I must pay for the heat and the absolute bliss last night, then I'll take it, even if that means starting from scratch every morning.

"Good morning, Brother." Em descends the steps, a little worse for wear.

"Good spirit, Emelia. How late were you shoveling last night?" I ask, striding over and inspecting a few cuts on her palms.

"I'm fine; stop pawing at me," Em says, then looks over at Mari. "Is he this over-attentive with you?" Mari raises her brows and looks away, as if she has been caught at something. "Well, now, that's interesting," Em says under her breath so only she and I hear .

She looks over at me, conspiratorially, waggling her brows. Then the little asshole raises her cup of coffee at me like a toast. Like I've won some competition between us.

"Right," I say. Every fiber of my being begs to change the direction of the conversation. "I think we're going to get a move on after breakfast while the weather's still temperate."

Em nods, and Mari does too, back still turned from us, looking out the window.

"Oh, that's right," Em announces, snapping her fingers. "We heard back from the elders yesterday."

Mari suddenly becomes very interested in the conversation. "What did they say?" she asks, stepping forward to slide onto the bench across from Em.

"They couldn't pinpoint a date or a timeline for this to end."

Mari slumps at the realization.

"Why, I thought their power could predict all elemental anomalies," I ask.

"That's just it; it's not elemental. It's magic,"Em says, her voice bright. Enjoying the mystery of it all.

"Magic?" Mari asks, creasing her brow.

"Yeah, something is causing this. It's not a freak pattern in the weather system."Em clarifies.

We all stand silently in the kitchen, considering what this could mean for everyone. It's not just Mari now. It's our farm, our land, our livelihood. More incidents like last night will happen if the rain continues like this. It's only a matter of time.

Em's expression glazes over, getting that all-too-familiar look. She's gone again, something in her head or a vision. Something no one else can see but her.

When her sight focuses again, I wave my hand in front teasingly. "Anyone home?" Em slaps my hand away. "Anything interesting this time?" I ask.

"No, only noise, nothing clear."Em says, taking another sip of her coffee.

"Oh, so it's an ogre thing to zone out? Or is that something specific to your family? It seems to happen often," Mari asks, crossing her arms over her chest. An expression on her face like she's figuring something out. A beautiful arch to her brow that sends a shiver up my spine. She is resplendent, always.

Em clears her throat. "It must be a Vissar thing," she says, giving me a look that demands I keep my mouth shut or I'll get it later. "Oh, I'm going to ride with you both to Soren's. I have your boots and want to get them fitted to you, but I also need some supplies from the barns before I head back to Mom and Dad's."

I roll my eyes. Spirits forbid I get a moment alone with Mari. I was quite looking forward to sharing a horse with her.

We leave right after breakfast to the triplets protest—and much to my delight, despite Em tagging along.

On the initial ride here, under the pressure of urgency, I didn't get to revel in the sensation of Mari's backside pressed between my legs. Now, I have my horse moving in a canter fast enough it won't rouse suspicion. Slow enough that I'll have her pressed up to me for an extra half hour .

Em, though annoying at times, has her moments. She rides next to us for a spell, then makes up a flimsy excuse for why she must ride ahead, sensing I might want a little space to revel in the feel of Mari's body so close to mine.

She's been much too quiet; I decide to lean in closer than I need to, closer than I should. So close, the wafts of her black hair brush my face. So close, I smell the soap she used this morning clinging to her soft skin. Lost in the moment, I put my lips close to her ear.

"Would you tell me something about yourself?"

She whips her head, meeting my eyes head-on. Fire dances in her irises for a simple moment before it dies back, her fury clearing. She turns back to face the road ahead.

"Why?" she says into the chill morning air, turning the already cool air into a frost that stings my face. Her words are ice. But nothing I can't handle.

"Is it so wrong that I wish to know more about you?" Nothing. She says nothing, so I press on. "Come on, tell me anything—your favorite color. Maybe your parents' names. Do you have any siblings?" She goes extra still at that question. Silence spreads like a fog. The only sound is the pounding of the horse's hooves.

"Right," I continue, refusing to let this go. "How about food you seem to like—"

"Would you stop?" There is a tone to her voice I haven't yet experienced. Genuine annoyance or frustration?

"I'm sorry. I just thought after last night—"

"Last night nothing," she says, "I had a lot of time to think last night, and I'm losing sight of my goals. I need to find my friends and get the fuck out of here. And all the hot make-outs and baked goods are muddying my concentration. When the storms are over, I'm out. Regardless of how long it takes. "

There it is, again, ice in the air. It's so real, so tangible, that it's as if the season changed solely to punctuate Mariana's point.

She has gone so cold in such a short amount of time that I'm surprised I don't have whiplash or frostbite. I want to rage at her, to shake her, or beg her. I want to know her. Is that so wrong?

Since the moment I met this creature, I have been drawn to her. It's been a force so unshakable it leaves me tossing and turning at night. I dream of her.

I've had many women, and none have ever haunted me like this wicked wraith haunts every thought.

I stay silent instead. Letting her words fall to the ground and get washed up by the rain.