Page 46 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
We just stay.
And for the first time in a long, long time—I don’t feel alone.
Not in this storm.
Not in this lodge.
Not in this world.
With him.
Chapter 10
Thorne
They say a man knows the second something stops being casual—and starts being his.
I knew the exact second it happened to me.
The night she fell asleep in my arms, breathing into my chest like she belonged there. Like I was a place she could rest instead of a storm she should run from.
Now—a few nights later—she thinks she can laugh with someone else like that moment meant nothing.
The Devil’s Brew is louder than it should be for a Tuesday night—Zane’s idea of “low-key” is apparently a live DJ and three fog machines. The storm stopped dropping snow a few hours ago and now all of Devil’s Peak is covered in a cold blanket of white but that doesn’t stop the locals from throwing a party. When I push through the Brew’s doors, heat hits me first. The place is dressed up—cobwebs in the rafters, pumpkins gagging at the bar, string lights tangled like a constellation. People scatter when I walk through, not out of respect so much as recognition. I’m a thing they know—predictable as a storm.
And there she is.
She’s a contradiction made flesh: a sweet little witch, half fairy tale half fierce. The skirt of her dress flares around herhips, and every inch of her is deliberate. Black leather corset cinched against the pale sweetness of the dress. Lace kisses her collarbone; a wreath of tiny dried flowers and twine sits in her hair. Someone should have called the authorities. She looks like every dangerous myth I ever wanted to believe in.
My chest tightens. It’s a physical thing, sharp and ugly, and the sound in the room dulls around it.
Some guy with a costume badge—city boy, hair slicked like he thinks sweat is an accessory—leans into her with the easy, practiced charm of someone used to getting his way. He grins at Aspen like he’s selling her something. She laughs, a bright sound that lands somewhere in my ribs, and he presses closer. His hand flicks toward her arm.
I move before I think. My boots hit the floor; the crowd parts. I go straight to where he is, to where Aspen is. I put myself between them like a place no one is allowed to cross.
“You alright?” I ask the man, voice low enough that it’s a threat wrapped in a question.
He blinks like he’s been glare-struck. “Uh—yeah. She’s—look, man, I was just?—”
“You were just hitting on my girl,” I say. I don’t mean the word. It fits me like a shard of glass. It’s inaccurate in one tense but right in the other. He swallows.
Aspen’s eyes flick to me, amused and dangerous. There’s that smile—full of trouble. “Thorne,” she says. “You came.”
“You’re avoiding me,” I tell him, and it’s not a question.
He laughs too quickly. “No way. I’m just—never mind.” He lets out a breath he didn’t need to take, moves back, and finds a new target—someone less dangerous and more grateful for attention. I watch him fail to hold eye contact, the way men do when they’ve been shown a lion that can’t be tamed.
Aspen steps closer, hand finding mine, and the current that runs through me when we touch is the kind that demands an answer.
“You showed up,” she says, like I had a choice. Her voice drops to something softer, meant for me and me only. “I knew you would.”
“Thought you’d be easy to babysit,” I mutter.
“You’re the worst babysitter in the world. Also the worst at costumes.” She tilts her head, taking in my usual worn denim and flannel outfit. “But you’re also the best at making sure I don’t get kissed by idiots.”
Her laughter nudges the corner of my mouth and I almost grin, but the grin turns hard when I see the way another man watches her. The look is hungry in the kind of way that thinks every woman is a meal. I move again, smoother this time, taking her with me. “Let’s go.”
I move in the direction of the door but on the way Winter finds us, all flounces and white hair and that grin like she’s already wrecked several innocent things tonight. She squeezes Aspen’s shoulder like she owns a piece of this decision to show up in the first place.
