Page 13 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

He shuffles closer again, and this time, I’m better prepared, so I notice things that I didn’t before when they both crowded toward me. The most interesting is a delicious scent coming off him, a spicy, warm aroma that reminds me of holidays and bonfires.

“May I…?” he says.

“Yes,” I breathe before he’s even finished speaking, because I want whatever he wants at this moment.

Torren’s expression changes to one of heart-crushing hope. He steps toward me and wraps his arms around me. He’s so much taller, my face meets the middle of his chest as he gently draws me in. His hands don’t roam too low, but he brings his nose to my temple and inhales deeply, as if he’s memorizing my scent.

I don’t dare loosen my grip on my blanket, but I don’t want him to think I’m only standing there, suffering, so I lean closer, content to let him hold me for a moment.

When he steps back, he’s smiling, his expression softer than I’ve seen it. Then I glance over at Morg, and my breath stalls in my throat.

He’s gazing at us with such naked longing, my heart throbs painfully at the sight. And it’s not just me he’s looking at but Torren, too.

I wonder if Torren sees this. A glance at him tells me that he does—his lips part as if he wants to say something, but then Morg blinks and visibly pulls himself back, shuttering his expression.

For some reason, that doesn’t deter me at all. I release Torren and quickly step up to Morg. His eyebrows climb up, but he doesn’t step away. I close in and lean on his broad chest, though I’m still clutching my blanket.

A moment later, he closes his arms around me, and his posture relaxes as he curls his big body around mine.

“Jasmine,” he murmurs into my hair.

I squeeze my eyes shut to battle the onslaught of sensations coursing through me. I don’t want to pick one of them. How can I? I don’t know anything about them, and yet they both feel right. Maybe I let Morg embrace me because I wanted to compare him to Torren, though I don’t think that was the impulse driving me. I only wanted to show him that he’s important, too, and chase away his worries.

Finally, I step away from him, and he lets me go, even if he seems a little reluctant.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I whisper to both of them.

Torren echoes, “Tomorrow.”

And then I’m slipping back through the door to Ritta’s room, latching us inside. I make my careful way to the day bed and snuggle down in the pillows, heart thudding madly.

But a sense of peace descends on me when I close my eyes, the itch I felt finally gone. I know I’ll see them tomorrow—and at least for another day, I’ll get to pretend I can keep them both.

Chapter

Six

Ritta wakes up, takes one sniff at me, and narrows her eyes. “You snuck out last night?”

My face flames with embarrassment. “Only to the corridor. They were waiting outside.”

I’ve already washed in the small bathroom alcove hidden behind a wall tapestry, dressed, and brushed my hair. To say that I’m eager to meet Torren is putting it mildly—I have to restrain myself so my leg doesn’t bounce as I sit and watch Ritta get ready as well.

“Did they knock?” She frowns as she passes a bone comb through her long hair. “I didn’t hear anything.”

I shake my head. “No, I…felt that I needed to go outside.”

She deftly braids her hair and pins it up. Then she puts away her comb and turns back to me. “I don’t know why I thought I could keep fated mates apart. Did they behave themselves?”

“Yes,” I assure her. “We only agreed that Torren would come get me this morning, and I’ll spend the afternoon with Morg.”

“Only that, hmm?” Ritta lifts one delicate eyebrow. “Then why do you smell like both of them?”

“We hugged!” I flutter my hands nervously. “Nothing more.”

Ritta grins at me. “I’m only teasing. You’re a grown woman, you can do what you like. I’m happy for you.” She nudges my shoulder. “Are you drinking your tea?”

I blink. “My tea?”

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