29. Soren

Chapter twenty-nine

Soren

A nother gray morning wakes us. At some point in the night, Mari turned to face me and tucked into the crook of my arm, one long leg slung over my hip. She is actively snoring, and there is no place I would rather be, ever.

Part of me wants to see the sun again. Watch it shine in her dark hair. How glorious would she be now, reflecting the light off her radiant skin? I brush down her arm, thinking of just that. Thinking of how close I came to losing her.

We sit in a large group at breakfast, reviewing last night's events. Em still can't recall most of what went on. There is a cast to her face, a shadow that wasn't there before. A hardness. I hope whatever she saw, whatever took her over, eventually fades into the distance, and she can get some peace.

I give Em a nod, and she smiles back at me. Then she goes back to resting her head on Augustus's brawny shoulder. He missed the action last night, and I'll bet it's killing him inside. I shouldn't joke, but I can't help the slight smile crooking my jaw, thinking about just how pissed he was this morning when he heard the news.

The eldest brother—not there to protect one of his own. I look at Mari and hope she realizes what we all already have: that she is one of our own, a part of the Vissar clan, whether or not she wants to be.

We pack quickly, and most of the family does the same. With all the major work completed, we only have the small things left to do. They will need new rugs, cups, and plates—the small things you take for granted until you have to rebuild everything. There are enough families still living on the farm to lend help.

My mother finds us before we leave. She pulls Mari into a long hug, eyeing me over her shoulder, as if to say, "Don't fuck this up, Soren. I like her." I nod at my mother and smile, the only way to convey my intent without telling Mari that an entire conversation is happening behind her.

We leave camp after a few more goodbyes.

The way back moves a little slower, and we don't return home until a few hours after nightfall.

Once the sun's tepid light has left the sky, I try to keep the conversation bright and teasing. I know what the night can do to Mari, especially in the woods. So, I do my best to ease her spirits and keep her mind from betraying her.

The house has smoke curling from the chimney when we ride up the cobbled walkway. That's odd.

We dismount and walk inside. The smell of fresh vegetable stew and baked bread greets us.

There is a note on the table that reads: We thought you might be hungry when you got home. Visit us when you get the chance. Love Olive, Ash, Violet, and Lilly. P.S. The kids made the bread and are very proud of it.

Mari smiles, reading the note, and looks up at me. "You really have a great family. Even if it is gigantic," she says, placing the note back in its spot.

"They're your family, too," I say, knowing far too well that the statement might stir her. I might see her anger come to the surface again.

"Please don't say that." She hangs her head, closing her eyes.

"Why? It's the truth. They went to battle for you. The moment we woke, we came to find you, all of us. No questions asked. We did it because you're one of us now. "

"Soren, please stop." She squeezes her eyes shut tighter. It is not going to work. She can't shut me out this time.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing back? What is so wrong with my family that you wouldn't want us to protect you, to be a part of us even if you leave? Tell me. What is it?" I walk over, looming over her. I don't know why I'm so angry. I feel like she's rejecting us, like she's slipping away.

Her eyes open slowly, rimmed with tears, the dark green irises resplendent even in her sorrow.

"It's not your family. It's just…"

"Please, please tell me. Tell me, what about my family has you so frightened?"

"It's because I've never had one," she says, and the air goes still. I take a moment to register what she said.

"What do you mean?"

"The only family I have are the friends who got lost in the woods with me, the ones I'm desperate to get back to. We grew up together; they are the only constant I have ever known."

Now it's me, eyes cast down. Feeling foolish, feeling—I don't know what. My heart breaks for her. In every way a heart can break for someone you love because I do love her.

"So seeing this massive, loving family that just accepts me immediately, well, it doesn't seem right. Like there is a catch. Like it's too good to be true. Like I don't deserve it." She thinks for a moment, then speaks again, this time leaving all resignation behind. "That's why I am the way I am. That's why I push back and don't let anyone in. Being abrasive is the easiest way to keep people away. It's better than getting hurt. The only people who I've ever been truly myself around are my friends. And now, I guess, you."

Those words. Too good to be true. I don ' t deserve it . They spin in my head, causing fury and heartbreak all at once.

"You deserve everything," I say, so shaken my voice breaks. "There is no goodness, no happiness in this life you don't deserve to experience. You are a revelation in every sense of the word." I step closer, resting my palm on the side of her face. "A wonder. A wild, strong creature who has turned my life upside down, and I will forever be changed for the better, having known you."

Tears fall from our eyes, and I hope she knows how desperately I mean every word. They rattle in my bones and breathe through every blood vessel. My Warrior, my beautiful, broken love. Mine .

She says nothing back; she wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. Her shoulders are racking with sobs. I hold her and let her do what she needs to be whole again.

After a few minutes, her breath evens out, and she picks her head up, locking that evergreen gaze on me. "We should eat," she says, causing a deep chuckle to rattle through my chest.

"Okay, Mari, let's eat."

For the first time, we have dinner filled with conversation. She doesn't push back when I ask about friends or her life.

My heart nearly breaks again when she tells me about her childhood.

Her world is so dark, yet somehow, she triumphed. Albeit hardened by the situation she was forced into as a young child, she came out of all of it.

It all makes sense now. Taking to my nieces and nephew soeasily. I had intended to punish her in the most playful way, only to place her in the element she was most comfortable with.

I twirl the metal spoon around my teacup, listening to her stories. I will remember each word and place each new piece I've learned into the mosaic I've created for her in my mind.Beautiful, colorful, complex, strong.

I take in all of her. Now that she's not guarded. Now that her words and life spill from her perfect lips like it's always been this way.

That word crosses through my consciousness again—a word I would never say to her but sense in every cell of my being— mine .

I want this woman's body and soul. She spills everything into the warm room of the cabin, and each sentence, each revelation makes me love her more. My heart feels like it will burst when thinking about it. I can't do anything, so Imove.

Sitting on the seat next to hers, I grab her chair and pull it close to mine with a scraping sound. I'll have to polish the floor later.

We are face-to-face now, and she looks at me as if shedoesn't know what will come next.

"You are magnificent," I say, holding the side of her face. She smiles and meets my gaze.

"Thanks. It actually felt good telling you all of that." I lean in and kiss her softly. She tastes like sage and thyme and fresh bread.

That night, we make love. I would never tell her that, of course. But I lay her on my bed after a long, hot bath. Skin still steaming. I kiss every inch of her. And when it is time to bury myself in her, I go slow. Achingly so.

I let my cock pump into her in long, languid paces, just watching her. Watch her breath catch, feeling her hips undulate beneath me. Touching every place on her as if to memorize it.

There is that word again. Mine. It pounds in my head as steady as my heartbeat. With every thrust of my cock into her, I hear it. Mine. Thrust. You are mine. Thrust.

When I find myself on the verge, I run my hand between us, putting pressure on her clit. I want us to come together. "Come with me, Mari; what do you need?"I whisper into her ear, feeling her perfect pussy flutter around me.

"Just like that, Soren," she moans into my ear as I continue to take her slowly.

When she comes, her body grips me like a vise. Mine. I take her mouth, her moans, and kiss her as both our orgasms peak,claiming, in every way you can claim someone; with my mouth, my hands, my cock. Making her mine. Always mine.