Chapter 46 Next Time.

Chapter 46: 46 Next Time.

The notification faded, but the warmth lingered, settling into my muscles comfortably. I felt sharper somehow. More aware of every inch of my body.

Elsa stirred against my chest. Her eyelashes fluttered against my skin. I froze, hoping she’d drift back to sleep. No such luck.

"Mmm, you’re radiating power," she murmured, and her accent sounded thicker with sleepiness. "You’ve been meditating without me."

"Had to do something while you two used me as a body pillow," I whispered back, trying not to wake Ayra.

Too late. One golden eye popped open, followed by the other. Ayra’s tail immediately went from occasional twitch to full-on wag, thumping against my leg with enough force to potentially bruise.

"Master is awake!" she declared with way too much enthusiasm for this hour. "And he smells a little different." She actually sniffed me with her nose pressed against my shoulder. "You’ve leveled up!"

"Guilty as charged," I admitted. "Figured I’d multitask since I was pinned down anyway."

"That’s my clever champion," Elsa approved as she stretched like a cat in a sunbeam. The movement pulled the thin sheet erotically against the outline of her perfect body. "What boon did the System grant you?"

"Return Blade," I said. "I can throw weapons and have them come back to me now."

Ayra’s eyes widened with excitement. "Oh! That’s a rare one!" She sat up. The sheet fell away to reveal she’d decided clothing was optional last night. "Can you demonstrate? Please, Master?"

"Later," I promised, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not the rest of her. "I’d need something to throw, and all my weapons are downstairs."

"I could fetch one for you," she offered, already half out of bed.

I caught her wrist gently. "How about after breakfast? I’m starving."

Elsa was also participating in the naked morning enthusiasm competition, I realized as she draped herself across my chest again. That more or less created an effective barrier between me and any potential escape routes.

"Surely you’re not in such a rush," she purred while tracing distinct patterns on my collarbone with one delicate finger. "We’ve only just awakened."

I recognized that tone. That was the one that meant I wasn’t going anywhere for at least an hour.

Although that hour would undoubtedly be enjoyable, we really did have practical matters to address.

"The sooner we start the day," I reasoned, "the sooner we can figure out this portal situation. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can guiltlessly return to this kind of thing." I gestured at her sexy but very short body.

Ayra tilted her head, considering this logic. "He has a point, Princess."

Elsa made a sound somewhere between a huff and a groan. "Fine. But I demand compensation for this cruel abandonment."

"Breakfast in bed?" I offered.

Her eyes lit up. "Acceptable."

"And belly rubs?" Ayra added hopefully.

"After breakfast," I agreed while somehow managing to extract myself from their collective grip. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed for the door. "Stay put. Food coming up."

As I made my way downstairs, I heard them settling back into bed, already whispering and giggling about something.

Probably plotting new ways to delay the day’s productivity. I couldn’t really blame them—what was the rush, after all? Apparently, we had twenty years before the big bad showed up.

In the kitchen, I worked the French press and pulled out waffle ingredients once the coffee was made. Real waffles today, not the frozen kind—well, sort of real.

I wasn’t going to make the mix from scratch. At the very least, it would be a more deserving meal for my girls than freezer-burned toaster waffles.

I was mid-pour on the batter when my phone rang. The caller ID made my stomach drop faster than Ayra’s panties at the phrase "bad dog".

Sheriff Miller.

I debated letting it go to voicemail again, but that strategy clearly wasn’t working. Might as well face the music. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and picked it up.

"Morning, Sheriff," I answered. I was doing my very best to sound like someone who hadn’t been indirectly responsible for a monster attack at the local mall.

"Mr. Coleman." His voice was professional but had an edge. "I’ve been trying to reach you."

"Sorry about that. Been busy around the house."

"I imagine so." Then there was a pause after that which went on longer than it should have. "You know, I think we should have a proper conversation about what happened at Single Pine."

I measured my words carefully. "Not sure I’m following you, Sheriff."

"Cut the crap, Coleman." His tone hardened. "I’ve got skeletons cleaning up purple goo in my jurisdiction, monsters appearing out of thin air, and you showing up like you knew exactly what was happening. So here’s my question: would you like to talk about this with me, or should I involve people with bigger badges and a lower tolerance for bullshit?"

I sighed, closing my eyes briefly. "Tell you what, Sheriff. If it becomes a problem, we’ll talk."

"Seems like it became a problem when I had monsters walking my streets," he countered, voice falsely calm. "Last I remembered gates don’t open in Minnesota."

"That was just a fluke," I insisted. "Growing pains. It won’t happen again."

"Growing pains." He repeated the words flatly. "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not particularly."

Another weighted silence. I could practically hear him counting to ten.

"Mr. Coleman, I’m trying to be reasonable here. We have no awakened in this town. Whatever’s going on, it’s affecting my town. My people. If you’ve got some kind of handle on this situation, I need to know."

"I understand your concern," I said, and I genuinely meant it. "But trust me when I say that incident was an anomaly. I’ve got things under control now."

"Do you?" He didn’t sound convinced. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like the opposite of ’under control.’"

"It’s handled," I insisted. "Won’t happen again."

"See that it doesn’t." His tone was severe. "Because next time, I won’t be calling first."

The line went dead. I stared at my phone for a moment, debating whether that had gone better or worse than expected.