Page 78 of Thor

She nodded, snuggling closer. "Mmm-hmm."

I reached to the shelf beside the chair, selecting the well-worn copy of Winnie the Pooh—my childhood book, the only thing I'd brought to this room from my past. The spine cracked slightly as I opened it, the pages yellowed with age but still intact.

"Would you like me to read to you?" I asked.

She nodded again, her finger reaching out to trace the illustration on the first page. "Please."

I cleared my throat and began in a voice softer than any of my brothers would have believed possible from me: "Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin."

Mandy sighed happily, nestling closer against my chest. I continued reading, the familiar words bringing back flashes of memory—my mother's voice, a time before everything went wrong, safety and comfort I'd spent decades trying to recapture.

"He's fond of Pooh," I read. "So am I," I added in an aside, pressing another kiss to her head.

She yawned, her body growing heavier against mine as relaxation claimed her. I kept reading, my voice a low rumble in the quiet room. The story of the silly old bear and his friends filled the space between us, creating a bubble of peace I'd never thought possible.

By the time I reached the end of the first chapter, Mandy's breathing had deepened into the rhythm of sleep. Her weight against me was trusting and complete, her face peaceful in repose. I closed the book quietly but didn't move to put it away, not wanting to disturb her.

Instead, I sat there, cradling her against me, marveling at how perfectly she fit in my arms, in this room, in my life. After so many years of building this space—collecting, arranging, preparing—it had finally found its purpose. My heart had finally found its home.

From the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, I heard the buzz of a phone—hers, receiving a message. I glanced at it briefly, seeing the screen light up with a notification, but made no move to check it. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning. This moment—her asleep in my arms, safe and content—was too precious to interrupt.

As I held her, I realized with startling clarity that I would do anything to protect this newfound peace—to protect her, this woman who had somehow unlocked parts of myself I'd kept hidden for so long. The thought should have terrified me, this sudden, fierce attachment. Instead, it settled into my chest like a missing puzzle piece finally found.

The phone buzzed again, persistent in the quiet room. Tomorrow, we would have to face the outside world again—her job, my club, all the complications that came with our separate lives. But for tonight, in this room that existed outside time and expectations, we had found something rare and perfect.

I adjusted the quilt around her, ensuring she was warm and secure, then settled back in the chair, prepared to hold her through the night if necessary. The message could wait. The world could wait. Right now, there was only this—Mandy sleeping in my arms, the lingering scent of lavender in her hair, and the knowledge that after years of searching, I'd finally found something worth protecting at any cost.

Chapter 13

Mandy

Iwoketowarmthandthe steady rhythm of Thor's heartbeat against my back. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, savoring the cocoon of his massive arms around me. We were still in the oversized reading chair where I'd drifted off during his bedtime story, my body nestled in his lap, my pink onesie soft against my skin.

His breathing remained deep and even, his face relaxed in sleep, making him look younger somehow. The intimidating Sergeant-at-Arms of the Heavy Kings was nowhere to be seen in this gentle giant who'd read Winnie the Pooh to me until I dozed off against his chest.

I shifted slightly, taking in our surroundings. Thor's sanctuary, as he called it, was a secret even within his already private cabin. A hidden room, a space no one else knew about.

No one except me.

The thought made something warm flutter in my chest. He'd trusted me with this—his most closely guarded secret—a room filled with plush furniture, soft blankets, and a bookshelf of children's classics. A place where he could be tender and nurturing in ways the outside world would never allow a man with his reputation.

His arm tightened around me reflexively as I moved. I froze, not wanting to wake him yet. The soft fabric of my pink onesie—complete with little white bunny ears on the hood—brushed against his tattooed forearm. The contrast should have been comical: me, a respected CPA in kiddie pajamas, cradled by a feared biker whose arms were covered in Norse symbols and Heavy Kings insignia. But it didn't feel comical. It felt right. Like we'd both finally found someone who understood our contradictions.

I carefully extracted myself from his embrace, moving his arm with gentle precision that came from years of trained attention to detail. His breathing hitched, then steadied again. Good. I wanted to surprise him with breakfast, a small token of gratitude for everything he'd given me last night—not just the physical pleasure, though God knows that had been mind-blowing—but the acceptance.

The wooden floor was cool beneath my feet as I padded toward the kitchen. I passed the rumpled quilt on the floor where we'd made love before transitioning to our gentler connection. The memory made heat rise to my cheeks. I'd never experienced anything like it—the way Thor had handled me with such reverent care one moment, then such commanding strength the next.

That’s not to mention the spanking he’d given me that set it all off . . .

I started the coffee maker, the familiar gurgle grounding me in the present. Thor took his coffee black, strong enough to strip paint. I preferred mine with cream and sugar—a fact he'd remembered with surprising attention to detail. I smiled at the carton of half-and-half he'd specifically purchased for me, sitting in his otherwise spartan refrigerator.

While the coffee brewed, I reached for my phone, which I hadn’t looked at since yesterday afternoon. Several notifications displayed on the screem—work emails, a reminder about Amy's next appointment, and . . .

My stomach dropped.

Multiple text messages from an unknown number. I opened them with the sick curiosity of someone who already knows bad news awaits.

The first contained a photo that made my blood turn to ice. Thor and me on the quilt in his sanctuary. My naked body beneath his, my head thrown back in obvious ecstasy, his mouth on my breast. The angle was from the side, as if a camera had been mounted in the window.

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