Page 35 of Primal
“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?”