23. Mari

Chapter twenty-three

Mari

I t's unbelievable how much is still intact.

The inside of the house is a mess of mud and debris. The windows are blown out, every single one, littering the mess with a nice dusting of glass shards.

Luckily, no one brought their children to help.

The boots Em made me keep the moisture out and have soles thick enough to stomp through the wreckage without worrying about cutting myself. I should remind myself to thank her later.

Ogre after ogre comes in and out. It's impossible for me to differentiate between their names. I don't know how they do it. I would have given up after the tenth kid!

The worst part is that they all know exactly who I am. I hate that feeling—like they have already discussed me. But I won't let it weigh on me right now. There is so much more going on.

Soren comes in. He's easy to spot in the sea of the Vissar family. He's bigger than most and looks like a male carbon copy of his mother.

Somehow, he looks even hotter mud-splattered and sweaty. Shit, don ' t ogle him like a piece of meat in front of all his relatives.

He parts his way through the crowd, finding me quickly."Are you doing okay here? Is everyone being nice?" he asks.

"Oh yes, one could say too nice. For my taste, at least."

He laughs at that. Then tries to brush some hair out of my face before thinking better of it with our growing audience.

He's been outside trying to remove the boulders lodged in the bunkhouse walls. The one wedged in the main house might just be a permanent facet, structurally speaking.

"How are things going out there?" I ask.

"Alright. A few more animals have found their way back. Tulip the donkey came back honking and whining. She was fine once she had some food in her face."

"That's not entirely unlike someone else I know," I say playfully, jabbing him in the ribs.

He leans in so only I can hear."I've found something else I like in my face far more than food." I'm sent into instant flames, my cheeks and chest going wine-red. That asshole. He knows there are eyes everywhere.

"You'd better get back to work, Sweets," I tease, trying to throw him off this current line of thought.

The other ogres hear the comment, and some giggle at me using the nickname.

He dips his head back down once more. "I don't mind that nickname so much, especially if you call me it with my head between your legs."

"Asshole," I say, shoving him. "You're going to pay for that."

"Oh, spirits, I hope so." He winks before disappearing again through the crowd.

Damit, he's sexy. I can't help but stare at his muscular and somewhat elegant physique as it swishes out the door. I've never lusted after someone like this.

His words were a pleasant distraction. I replay the thoughts of what I want to do to him over and over as I shovel piles of mud out of the house.

I have to stop myself a few times before the ache between my thighs grows unbearable. I'm working in a literal disaster zone, and all I want to do is have Soren pin me down in the rubble and fuck me. This isn't like me.

My concentration wanes, and I take a break to look around. The house overflows with Soren's relatives. I watch for a moment, seeing how they interact. I've always been curious about functional families. I've never known the feeling, so seeing one up close is a wonder.

"Why, Mari, is that you, dear?" I look around at the crowd of green giants. None of them are looking in my direction. "Down here." I shift my gaze to the source of the sound, and my eyes light.

"Winnie. Holy shit." I walk over to him. "What are you doing here?" Despite myself, I bend over and hug him. I don't know where it comes from. I'm not a hugger, but something in this dwarf's nature turns me to jelly.

"I was actually on my way to Soren's farm to come to check in on you. Then I saw the flare and came straight away," he says. I had forgotten entirely that Patti had told Winnie to come check on me.He goes on."I've known the Vissar family for more time than I care to admit. So it was only right to help. They would do the same for me."

And help he has. The filth clings to his clothing and speckles his salt and pepper hair and beard with brown spots.

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm glad to see you," I say, looking around at the destruction. "Despite the circumstances."

He narrows his eyes at me like what I've said came equipped with a booby trap. "Are you going soft on me, Ms. Mariana?"

"Oh no, Winnie, I'm still the same bitch you met; I just like you a little more than most."

A smile breaks out on his face, followed by rich, baritone laughter. "I'm glad I got to see you again, too."

We work in tandem for as long as we can. I don't realize how much time has passed until the scent of campfire wafts in from outside. The scent also carries the rich fragrances of rosemary and cooked meats.

The roar in my stomach at the smell makes Winnie jump. "Good spirits, girl; you'd think a creature was about to burst forth from that stomach."

"I'm not entirely sure it's not," I say, clutching my abdomen, feeling the hollow churning. "I guess I haven't eaten today… now that I think about it."

I was expecting something else. When I smelled the food cooking on the flames, I envisioned a primitive fire ring and a roasting spit.

Apparently, that's not how ogres barbecue. Huge vessels filled with hot coals line the backside of the bunkhouses. Each outdoor grill is filled with either meat or vegetables .

I've come to call this colossal family "The Horde" in my head. It seemed fitting.

The Hoard extends out in all directions and gathers into smaller groups.I look out, overwhelmed by the sight.

Gentle music dances in the air, and I smile at it despite myself. Leave it to ogres to make merriment out of tragedy.

My eyes scan the group, looking for just one in particular.

"Find something you like?" a familiar voice whispers in my ear.

I jump, shocked at first, then eased when I recognize the voice. I spin to find Soren with two plates of food piled high.

He holds one out to me."I figured you'd be hungry."

"Thank you." I reach for the plate, trying not to seem as ravenous as I am.

"How did your day go? In there, with them all day?" He shoves a large piece of meat into his mouth and licks the tips of his fingers. Something I shouldn't find as thrilling as I do.

"It was…" I shouldn't say good, right? It would be weird to have a good day doing disaster relief. "It was okay. I saw my friend, Winnie."

"Oh, that old gray beard. Winnie has been friends with our family for years."

I scan the crowd again, looking for my… friend. That puts a slight smile on my face. My friend, my spicy, dwarf friend.

It isn't long before I catch sight of him. You would think finding a dwarf in a pile of ogres would be difficult. His pale skin catches the firelight, making him stand out like a beacon against the sea of green bodies. It should have been the metal he wears in his ears and beard, but everyone has that.

Throw a rock in this place, and you'll hit someone covered in gold and silver. Oh god, are they pierced down there like Soren is? Is Winnie? My cheeks flame at the thought.

I pop a cooked carrot into my mouth, letting its savory-sweet flavor burst onto my tongue.Anything to distract from my, um, musings.

"Wow, this is fantastic. I guess all ogres can cook," I say, licking the tips of my fingers. Soren smiles and scoots closer to me.

"Not all can cook as well as I can, but most can, at the very least, prepare a decent meal."

Oh, of course. He's conceited about his cooking. There is nothing this man doesn't think he's the best at.

I laugh, and it's real. Genuine, even.

I gaze over at Soren's family, taking in what I'm looking at for the first time—where I am and what I'm doing. It's amazing.

In my fear and anger, I never stopped to examine it for what it is—an adventure—something to be lucky to have.

Despite fearing for my friends every waking moment, a rush of gratitude fills me, sinking into my skin like the heat from the bonfires.

"You'd better stop making those noises, or I'm going to have to take you somewhere private," he purrs at me.

Oh, shit. I have a rib bone clutched in my hand, and in my deep contemplation about the complexity of what I'm experiencing, I was sucking down ribs like I entered a contest.

"Where are we going to sleep tonight?" I ask, attempting to change the subject, my voice going an octave higher.

"Here, of course," he says, as if the answer were obvious.

"Yeah, but where? The bottom floor is destroyed."

"Right, of course. Some will stay on the top floors of the house, and the rest of us will camp or bed in the bunkhouse. I still have my camping set up here and plenty of blankets."

"Outside?" I ask. Fear, that emotion I loathe so entirely, spikes panic. I don't want to be outside; that's the last place I want to be.

He puts his plate down and places his hand on my leg. "Hey, the others will surround us; even if something came after you while I was asleep, there would be twenty more to back you up. We've got you. I've got you."

These are the exact words I spoke earlier today in a different iteration. We've got this. I've got you. Spoken as if we truly mean it. And maybe I do. We do.