Chapter 141
Elowen POV
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623
Stormclaw Keep, Bram’s Room
Way Too Early For This Shit
I woke up wrapped in a goddamn furnace.
Bram’s chest was pressed against my back, one massive arm thrown over my waist like he thought I might vanish in the night. His breathing was slow, deep, peaceful, and completely unbothered by the hellfire that was surely about to begin on the other side of that thick wooden door.
I didn’t move. Not yet.
Because this? This rare moment of quiet, where my bones didn’t ache and my mind wasn’t screaming, where I could just feel him, warm, solid, and safe, was something I wanted to stretch out forever.
His scent wrapped around me… pine, musk, and something uniquely Bram. My fingers found the hand curled against my stomach, and I traced the scar near his knuckle like a lifeline. He rumbled low in his chest, the sound vibrating straight through me.
“He’s purring,” Lyssira whispered in my head, amused. “You turned the war bear into a goddamn kitten.”
“Shhh,” I muttered, half to her, half to myself. “Just… let me have this.”
And for about six more seconds, I did.
Until…BANG. BANG. BANG.
“Rise and shine, sunshine!” Ashrian. Smug bastard.
THUD THUD THUD.
“Breakfast’s getting cold and you’re late for the war meeting,” Daxon growled through the door. “We will kick this bitch in.”
I let out a groan that sounded like a dying animal and buried my face in the crook of Bram’s arm.
“You hear that?” I mumbled into his skin. “They’re gonna ruin the door. Again.”
“Let ‘em,” Bram murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. “It’s a strong door.”
Another slam.
“Elowen, open up! I brought the coffee!” Lachlan’s voice came next, all honeyed brogue and fucking temptation.
I sighed dramatically and peeled myself away from Bram’s warmth like a woman walking into a blizzard barefoot.
“You owe me waffles,” I muttered, climbing out of bed in nothing but one of his oversized tunics.
1/3
11:27 Wed, Oct 8
Chapter 141
P:
Behind me, Bram groaned, his face half buried in the pillow. “Bring me back meat.”
“No promises,” I shot back, already stomping across the room. “If they keep knocking, I’m eating it all out of spite.” I turned back and snapped, “Actually, get your ass up Bram we will need you at the war meeting.”
He groaned and started to get up. “I’ll meet you down there.”
Lyssira purred like a smug little demon. “Make them grovel first. We’re the Alpha. They can wait.”
I flung the door open, my hair a tangled mess, eyes wild, and zero fucks to give.
Ashrian blinked. “Damn. You look…”
“Say one word and I’ll make you regret being born sexy,” I snapped.
Lachlan grinned. “I brought ye coffee, love.”
My hand shot out. “Gimme gimme!”
He handed it over like he was offering tribute to a particularly unhinged goddess, which… was fair. Daxon leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed. “You ready for war, princess?”
I took a long sip of the coffee, met his gaze dead on, and said, “After bacon, I’m ready for anything.”
I took another long, glorious sip of the coffee. Gods bless that man and his caffeine sensing intuition. It was rich, strong, and laced with just the right amount of cream, pure dark magic in a mug.
“Remind me to let you live another day,” I muttered to Lachlan, holding up the mug in silent tribute.
“Aye, mo ghrá,” he said with that devastating brogue and an infuriating wink. “As long as ye keep sippin‘ that like it’s holy water, we’re square.”
Ashrian leaned against the opposite wall, his arms crossed, eyes glittering with amusement. “She hasn’t thrown anything yet. That’s progress.”
“I’m conserving my energy,” I muttered.
Daxon let out a low, amused grunt. “Let me guess. Waiting on the bear?”
I just tilted my head toward Bram’s door with a deadpan stare. Inside, we could hear him moving around, slow, heavy footsteps, some shuffling, a grunt. Probably debating which shirt made him look more terrifying. Spoiler: they all did.
