Free Master of Miasma (The Valhalla Series) by Poppet Page A

safely shower in my own bathroom. Thank Odin for small mercies.
    Sitting down on the chair beyond the bed I take off my boots, laughing out loud at the comparison between them and her discarded Chuck Taylors.
    Too damn cute for words.
    Slipping to her side I bend down and place a soft kiss on her hair.
    “Sweet dreams, Emma.”

 
    Chapter 11
     
     
    Macala :
     
    We may be hermits but we still enjoy the conveniences of the modern age. When I place the coffee down on the bedside table the ruffled head doesn't even stir.
    Taking mine to the wide chair beyond the bed, I sit, watching her while sipping my coffee. I like it scalding and it's promptly consumed. She rolls onto her back, throwing a dramatic arm over her eyes, exposing the sight I longed to witness.
    Yes! It's true then, the drink of the gods is truly a miracle elixir, unleashing the latency in her genes. It's prudent that we do not become our true size when we need to blend in, until it's safe to expose our nature. The gods thought of everything.
    Smiling wider I note her palm has healed, her mark now identical to mine. Desperate to test it, I get comfortable, slowly tracing the triangular outline on my own hand, glancing over to her often, greedy for a reaction while her guard is down.
    She moves, holding the palm lazily over her heart, mumbling incoherently in deep REM. I apply more pressure to the tracing on my palm and she moans so loud she sits bolt upright in bed as if I just bellowed a foghorn in her ear.
    Frozen, I dare not touch the sigil with her staring right at me. “Good morning,” I say as graciously as I can, caught red handed.
    She frowns at me, pawing the hair off her face in agitation.
    I point at the waiting beverage which should still be hot, “I made you coffee.”
    Her grumpy morning face softens as she glances to the waiting mug and then back at me, “Supersized? Am I that grouchy in the morning?”
    Grinning at her endless repertoire of quick humor despite only just having woken, I smirk, “We take our coffee seriously.”
    “Not with sugar?”
    Laughing now, I incline my head, “Touché.”
    I love watching her eyes half close seductively every time she hears me speak. It makes my blood go crazy, heating with anticipation.
    She squirms up the bed still looking out of sorts, lifting her mug with both hands and holding it carefully for her first sip. Shaking her head she puts it down, “I have to pee.”
    “Want me to leave?” I offer, ready to stand.
    “ Nah, I'll be quiet,” she laughs, sticking her tongue out at me, oblivious to her arms and legs poking out of the clothes she outgrew in her sleep.
    I can't help but grin at her padding across the room in her white socks looking like an imp up to no good, the craving in me growing to examine her eyes after a night of rebirth.
    I would stake my life on the certainty that I shall never tire of the woman with straight black hair which shrouds her body, or the elegance of the proportions beneath it. She's heart stopping and I was wise to mark her palm with my own mark before the bachelors got to see her.
    *
     
    Emma:
     
    I feel like I'm about to burst. My jeans and tee feel too tight which is how I know if I don't pee I'll end up breaking a zip or popping the button off.
    It doesn't happen often but I know the feeling of my clothes becoming restrictive if I eat or drink too much.
    Unzipping, I squirm out of my jeans with more difficulty than usual, sitting down on the loo and relieving the bloat in my bladder. Knowing what I'm doing this time I'm confident when I stand, telling the toilet to flush, then attempt to pull up my jeans.
    Lordy, why do things always come down easier than than they go back up?
    Getting hot and flustered, my chest feels strangled. “Aaargh.”
    I grumble, battling with the denim, unable to pull them over my hips. Shaky with the effort I waddle to the sink to wash my hands, pressure squeezing into my chest when I bow over the basin.
    It feels like the