Chapter 17 Man on the Mountain
Man on the Mountain
Soren liked a lot of things about living alone on a mountain. The views were good, the air was clear, and there was no one around to bother him — including his pushy sister.
“You’re seriously not coming?” Vanessa complained.
“I’m seriously not coming,” he grunted, propping his feet on the polished log he used as a stool. Fire crackled in the hearth he’d built with local stones, and stew bubbled away on the stove behind him, steaming the air with the scents of sage and venison.
“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to come to the city for five minutes.”
Adjusting his grip on his phone, he used his other hand to pick up his beer and bring it to his lips. “Mm,” he muttered into the bottle, “might.”
“It wouldn’t,” she insisted. “You would stay at my luxurious penthouse. Be wined and dined by the finest San Francisco society has to offer. All for the low, low price of coming to my Moonrise party.”
Soren lifted his brows and peered at the knitted toes of his socks. The bottom of his feet tingled with the warmth of the fire. “I happen to think my accommodations are plenty luxurious.”
His sister’s sigh came through loud and clear through the phone. “Soren, people think I’ve made you up. I already told my friends you’re coming. Please just come to my damn party.”
Wiggling his warmed toes, he offered, “What if I send you a card?”
“A card? Seriously?”
He hummed. “I could send some jerky for the party.”
“The party’s going to be catered by one of the best chefs in the city.” Vanessa paused, let out a sigh, and added, “But I would like some of your jerky. For me.”
Smiling into the rim of his beer, he assured her, “I already put some in the mail for you. And some huckleberry jam.”
Slightly mollified by this news, his sister turned down the urgency somewhat when she said, “That’s not much of a replacement for your company, you know. Has it occurred to you that maybe I just miss seeing your stupid face? We haven’t seen each other since Mom’s exhibit.”
And that was more than enough.
Soren set his beer down with a soft sigh. Guilt tightened his gut, but it wasn’t enough to make him lose his mind and actually agree to spending a week in San Francisco.
He loved his sister. He really, really did. No one in the world understood him better than Vanessa.
But in many ways they were very, very different.
There were no rules to being a were — especially not for them, the first generation born into it.
While Vanessa had inherited plenty of shifter traits from their father, socially she took a lot more from their mother’s side.
She thrived amongst throngs of people and in the cut-throat art world.
When she encountered obstacles, she took great pleasure in ripping them to pieces with ruthless cunning and strategy.
Being an alpha meant something very different to her than it did to him.
Soren was… more bear than anything else.
Despite the colors of his eyes and the gland in the roof of his mouth, he was his father’s son: a solitary polar bear.
He couldn’t shift, but he could feel the bear in ways his sister couldn’t, and that meant their tolerances for things were very different.
He couldn’t handle the noise and the smells and the crowds of the city.
He wanted to roam his mountain and hunker down in his cozy den, not let his sister squeeze him into a suit so she could introduce him to her rich friends.
But that wasn’t a kind thought.
Vanessa wasn’t shallow. She was an intelligent, driven, powerful woman making changes in the world he didn’t have the stomach to fight for. Soren was fucking proud of his sister.
And he did miss her. Even when she was pushy.
“Has it occurred to you that I have a guest room?” he shot back. His eyes, one a dark blue and the other a pale green, rested on the empty armchair beside his. “Get away from the city for a while. We can roam and cook and maybe you can actually get some sleep for once.”
Vanessa let out a long sigh. “I’ve got too much work to disappear in the mountains for a week.”
“Then it appears we’re at an impasse," he replied, flicking a lock of long blond hair out of his eyes.
“There’s really nothing I can say to get you to come?”
“Nope.”
His sister blew a raspberry into the phone. “Fine! Disappoint your sister. Again.”
“Keep an eye on your mail,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, yeah.” After a brief pause to really make sure he felt her disappointment in him, she added, “I’ll plan to visit you next month, okay?”
Soren’s fanged smile widened. “Looking forward to it, cub.”
“Love you, you big dumb bear.”
Snagging his beer again, he brought it up to his lips. “Love you. Don’t forget to call Mom.”
“She’d come to my party,” Vanessa grumbled.
Pulling the phone away from his ear, he called out, “No, she wouldn’t,” before he ended the call. Brotherly duties accomplished, he tossed his phone onto the side table, took a large swig of his beer, and closed his eyes — a bear content in his den, ready to take on whatever winter threw at him.