Chapter 4
Winter arrived with a brutal chill,
blanketing the estate in thick layers of pristine white snow.
The lake froze over,
and the heavy pine trees sagged under the weight of the ice,
turning the grounds into a silent and beautiful wonderland.
Inside the house,
the fireplaces roared in every room,
filling the air with the smell of burning wood and warmth.
June had invited a friend over for the first time,
a quiet girl named Chloe from her advanced literature class,
and they were currently upstairs working on a project.
Mave was in the kitchen with Mrs. Pruitt,
learning how to bake a complicated French pastry,
her hands covered in white flour and butter.
Landon walked into the kitchen,
shaking the snow from his dark wool coat,
and paused to watch Mave laughing with the housekeeper.
He leaned against the granite counter,
a rare and genuine smile breaking across his normally stoic face,
simply enjoying the domestic peace of the moment.
"You look like a professional,"
he teased,
pointing to a streak of flour on Mave's nose.
Mave gasped in mock offense,
and she threw a small handful of flour directly at his chest,
which dusted his expensive black coat in a white cloud.
Mrs. Pruitt chuckled warmly,
and excused herself to check on the laundry,
leaving the two of them alone in the vast kitchen.
Landon stepped closer,
ignoring the mess on his clothes,
and wrapped his arms around Mave's waist from behind.
"I like seeing you like this,"
he murmured into her ear,
his breath warm against her skin.
"Covered in baking supplies?"
Mave joked,
leaning back into his solid chest.
"Happy,"
he corrected softly,
his voice vibrating with deep sincerity.
"I like seeing you happy."
Mave turned around in his arms,
careful not to get more dough on his suit,
and looked up into his dark,
beautiful eyes.
"I am happy,"
she told him,
and she realized as she said it that there was no hesitation,
no lingering fear that the rug would be pulled out from under her.
They stood there in the quiet kitchen,
the snow falling heavily outside the large glass windows,
and listened to the faint sound of June's laughter echoing from upstairs.
It was a sound they had fought wars to protect,
a sound that meant the nightmares were finally losing their grip on the young girl.
"She is doing better,"
Landon said,
following her gaze toward the ceiling.
"She is healing,"
Mave agreed,
resting her head against his shoulder.
"We all are."
Landon tightened his grip on her,
and he kissed the top of her head,
a silent vow of enduring protection.
They had survived the fire,
and they had walked through the darkness together,
and now they were building a fortress made of love instead of fear.
The winter storm raged outside,
May you like
but inside the walls of the estate,
the three of them were completely and totally untouchable.
