Chapter 10
Silas
I’m not a shy person, but there’s something very intimidating about walking into the center of a new town where you can feel everyone’s eyes on you.
But this is not just any town. This is Marisol’s town.
Her beloved community. And I want to do my utmost best to make a good first impression on behalf of Pack Morgan.
I follow the island guardian’s directions to The Singing Seahorse, climbing up the path between all the quaint shops nestled into one side of the island’s tallest hill, until I reach Third Street, where the pub is located.
The old limestone building’s facade is covered in coral roses, climbing up from the ground, around the heavy mahogany door and paned windows, until they hug the tiled roof.
Cupping my hands around my eyes, I press my face against a window, finding it devoid of any life.
Could Marisol be in the back? Or is she still taking time off?
“Can we help you?” someone asks behind me. I turn to see two elderly ladies, one human and one goblin with some very remarkable earrings, giving me blatantly assessing once-overs from the shop next door.
Ambling closer to them, I try to present myself as unthreatening as possible, keeping my arms loosely at my sides and offering them a sincere smile. “Hi, I’m Silas Morgan. I’m looking for Marisol.”
The ladies exchange a loaded look and I swallow hard before explaining more, “She told me I can find her at The Singing Seahorse, but maybe I’m too early. Your island guardian gave me directions to the pub.”
The goblin holds out a hand and beckons me closer. “Come inside and have a seat, Silas. We’d love to hear more about how you know our Marisol.”
My shoulders relax and my lips stretch into a wide grin. “Protective of her, aren’t you? That makes me very happy to hear.”
Lucille—the owner of The Dancing Daisy, the bookstore next to Marisol’s pub—makes us some tea while Doc Calla—the town doctor and matriarch from what I’ve pieced together—politely grills me with questions.
“Would you like to tell us more about your intentions with Marisol?” Doc Calla asks, cradling the delicate cup and saucer in her long-fingered hands.
I sit up a bit straighter and say frankly, “I want her to be part of our pack.”
The heavy lines around Lucille’s eyes deepen with her smile. “A panther who knows what he wants.”
My chest puffs out a little more as I gently amend, “A panther, a wolf, and a fox who know what they want.”
“Meaningful correction,” Doc Calla remarks, approval radiating from her in palpable waves. “And what does your siren want?”
“Us, we hope. But we haven’t given her enough reasons to be part of our pack yet.
And after seeing your beautiful island, I can understand why she’d never want to leave.
” I aim for as much candor as I can manage without betraying Marisol’s confidence.
She never gave us any instructions about whom we can and cannot talk to, but I’d rather not say something she’d not be comfortable with others knowing.
Yet, something tells me getting two thumbs-up from her town’s matriarchs would go a long way toward winning Marisol’s heart.
Doc Calla’s intelligent eyes roam over my face, and I have a feeling she’s able to see right through me and down to my soul. “Marisol might not want to leave, but Starry Hill will always welcome any creature seeking to start a life here. But we’re getting a tad ahead of ourselves now, aren’t we?”
I preen under the subtle compliment and her acceptance. “It’s good to know about all the possibilities.” Needing to strike while the iron is hot, I ask, “You ladies have any other advice for me?”
Lucille’s hand trembles as she lowers her cup.
“I tell you what worked for me. Actions. They always speak louder than words. That expression isn’t a cliché for no reason.
That’s how my Lochan won me over at first, rest his soul.
Woo your siren. Court her. Keep showing up for her.
Give her space, she’s Marisol after all, but don’t let her ever doubt that she’s always present in your minds and hearts. ”
Doc Calla points a long finger in agreement. “Everyone wants to feel like a priority. Show her how you’ll prioritize her.”
I nod at their suggestions, my confidence bolstered that their advice lines up with what Bash, Killian, and I already have planned for the coming week and beyond.
Knowing we have the support of two prominent locals also just means so much more.
It truly warms my heart to see how much Marisol is loved by her community and how deeply they care for her.
This isn’t a competition where she has to choose. We want to show her how she can have it all—Starry Hill and us.
Half a cup later, Doc Calla asks, “Are you coming to the Halloween party?”
Tilting my head to the side, I look between my Starry Hill chaperones. “You’re having a party?”
“Oh yes,” Lucille says over the rim of her dainty cup.
“Marisol and Maisie had the idea to host something, but the whole town is involved now. It’s going to be pretty impressive from what I can tell.
And perhaps a good place to get acquainted with the rest of Starry Hill’s residents too.
” The not-too-subtle suggestion isn’t lost on me and I truly appreciate their kind prodding—I dare not think of it as meddling.
“If she wants us here, we’ll be here,” I promise, hoping we can find a way to support her with the party too.
Doc Calla leans forward as she toys with one of her earrings.
“How good are you and your pack with your hands?” At the blush creeping up my cheeks, she laughs and quickly amends, “I mean, Marisol might need some help around the pub, though she’d never explicitly ask for it.
Could be smart to make yourself useful.”
I’m not quite sure if she was simply teasing me with her question or if she genuinely didn’t mean for the innuendo, but I thank her nonetheless with an incline of my head. “We don’t shy away from hard work. Anything to make Marisol’s life easier and happier, you can count us in.”
The ladies exchange sly little smirks before wrapping up the conversation and shooing me in the direction of Marisol’s island just off the coast of Starry Hill.
Striding back toward the dock where I left my boat, I catch sight of the cottages dotting the undulating hills. Each front door is painted in a different color and I can’t help but wonder what Marisol picked for her home.
Since saying goodbye to Marisol at Nesting Grounds, not a single hour has gone by where she wasn’t on my mind, or Killian’s, or Bash’s. She’s been at the center of every single conversation, thought, and feeling.
Images of how good she looked in the middle of our pack, of all four of us cuddled together, of her ass stretched around my cock as Killian fucked her cunt, of her lips wrapped around Bash’s cock…
No, now isn’t the time to be thinking of that.
I’m here to show her there’s more between us than a fiery sexual connection—it goes deeper than that.
We want to know her on a soul level too.
I bid my filthy thoughts farewell and leave them on Starry Hill’s main island as I jump into my boat and set sail for the smaller neighboring island that Marisol calls home.
My heart drums at a thousand beats per minute as I sail closer, Marisol’s stone cottage coming into view against a small hill. Her door is painted a deep red, the color of a leaf bidding summer farewell and welcoming fall. It’s perfect for Marisol.
I jump out of my boat when I’m close to shore, wading through the shallows to secure the line to an anchor point between some rocks. When I look up, Marisol stands out on her porch, one hand clasped to her mouth as she stares down at me.
Dressed in an oversized sweater and dark leggings, her hair hanging loosely down her back, she looks soft, rested, and relaxed. Beautiful.
Part of me wants to run up to her, throw her over my shoulder and carry her home, but I shove that desire deep down, knowing that won’t impress her much. But the ache to feel her in my arms, to see her sprawled between all three of us, gnaws at my insides and pushes me into action.
Grabbing the box of goodies we prepared for her, I climb up toward her cottage and come to a stop a couple of feet away, not sure how my unannounced arrival will be received.
Uncharacteristically nervous, I shift from foot to foot as I stare up toward her. “Doc Calla and Lucille told me where to find you. I hope that’s okay.”
“You came,” she states disbelievingly in a small voice.
“You doubted we would?” I don’t wait for her answer, seeing it clearly in her scrunched brow.
“Oh, a chuisle mo chroí,” I breathe out, setting down the box and stepping onto the porch so I can finally wrap her in my arms. “We tried to give you space,” I say into her hair, “but we clearly couldn’t last very long without seeing you. ”
Marisol leans back, her eyes glassy as she jokes, “Missed me already, then?”
I frame her face between my hands and let her see the truth and sincerity in my eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I almost had to restrain Bash from coming out here at the break of dawn to search the waters for you.”
A pleased smile crinkles her eyes. “Oh, yeah?”
“In a perfect world you’d have never walked out of Nesting Grounds on your own. We either would’ve gone with you or taken you home with us,” I admit, maybe a little too honestly.
The minute wince in Marisol’s expression is barely noticeable but over the past week I’ve studied every twitch of her brow and every hint of a smile, so that fleeting expression isn’t lost on me.
I lower myself onto the porch steps and Marisol takes a seat next to me while I figure out how to phrase our intentions. “Look,” I say, taking Marisol’s hand and lacing our fingers together. “We are very aware that you don’t need us, but we want you to want us.”