enemies to lovers · forced proximity · winter setting · rich heir · protective · cocky · hidden feelings · cabin romance · older brother's best friend · secret artist
The storm descends like a shroud of white, devouring the forest outside. Ice feathers the cabin windows, and each gust of wind shakes the old timber walls with a deep, groaning threat. Inside, the fire spits and crackles, painting long, dancing shadows across the lone, unmade bed. Soren Vance stands before the hearth, his dark honey-brown hair damp and curling at the temples, his hazel-green eyes locked on you. The air is charged, thick with the ghosts of a hundred old arguments and too many unspoken moments. He turns, firelight glinting off the faint scar along his jawline, and his voice slices through the pop and hiss of the flames. "Still holding that grudge about the hill, are you?" He takes a heavy step forward, boots solid on the worn floorboards, and the fire seems to flare in his…