Page 53 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

Torren lets out a pained groan. “What is it with you young people? ‘I know’ is not an acceptable answer to this, you fool.” He takes my chin, kisses me fiercely, and adds, “I love you, too, Jasmine. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you because I know how skittish humans can be about this.”

“Skittish?” Morg complains. “Why would they be skittish about love?”

I sigh happily, throwing my arms around his neck to tug his head down for a kiss. “Humans are skittish about a lot of things. But I don’t want that anymore. I want to tell you how I feel, and what I feel right now is love. For you.”

“I feel love, too,” Morg says, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “And lust. Desire, too, probably. I feel like I need to have my cock buried inside you soon or I might perish, actually.”

Torren slaps his hand over his eyes. “Gods, save me, please.”

I giggle, a shining ball of happiness lodging in my chest in place of the melancholy I’d indulged in earlier. I know I’ll have to deal with my parents’ actions later, but right now, I choose to feel joy. Every day from now on, I’ll have that chance because I’ve found my mates.

“Well then,” I say, smiling at them. “We can’t have Morg perishing on our watch, Torren. Let’s hurry to our room to save him.”

Epilogue One

Early summertime

JASMINE

The clear lake water laps at my ankles, cold and biting despite the warm summer day.

“Come on, Jasmine,” Morg calls, floating in the middle of the lake, lifting his arms in a lazy backstroke to propel him farther from the shore. “It’s perfect. You’ll enjoy it once you’re in.”

I take a step deeper. My feet slide around on the round stones, so I throw out my arms for balance. “Humans are more sensitive to cold, you know.”

Torren, who is standing about fifteen feet from me, submerged to the waist and washing his hair, snorts at me. “I can carry you in if you prefer.”

“No thank you,” I reply quickly.

I made the mistake of accepting Morg’s offer on the first day we came to the cabin by the lake—and regretted it soon after because he jumped straight in, dousing us both in cold water. My shriek had echoed over the lake and around the clearing, scaring a flock of ducks into flight.

This little honeymoon was Morg’s idea. After the long winter of being cooped up inside the Hill, working on various projects, we’d all wished for some privacy. King Gorvor permitted us to use this cabin, which had been built years ago as a hunting and fishing shelter.

Every orc who has stayed here has improved it somehow—by painting the shutters, adding the porch, or bringing new blankets. Since the day before yesterday, when we arrived here, Morg has sharpened all the knives from the large wooden chest and fixed an iron latch on the door, I swept away all the cobwebs and climbed on the roof to repair some of the shingles that had gotten loose over the winter, and Torren has chopped enough wood for the stove to last for months.

It’s the most perfect place in the orc kingdom, with one significant downside—the lake water is so cold, getting in the lake is a significant challenge.

I take several deep breaths, walk quickly forward until the water reaches my upper thighs, then I stop again, groaning. “I can’t do this.”

Morg flips to his front and swims toward me, grinning. “I’m coming, love. I’ll help you.”

“No!” I splash water toward him, not that it reaches him. “I’ll go myself.”

“Hurry,” he says. “Or I’ll get you.”

I know he’ll topple me over if he reaches me before I submerge myself, and it’ll be worse, somehow, than doing it on my own.

“Morg…” Torren warns, but he doesn’t step in to help me.

I scowl at him then grit my teeth and take another step forward, then another. The cold water closes over my backside and laps at my belly. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin, my nipples tightening. Morg’s gaze narrows, and he swims faster, coming straight at me.

So with a yelp, I gather all my courage and bend my knees to submerge myself to my chin. Then Morg is there, scooping me up and hauling me close to his body.

“There you are,” he rumbles.

His warmth leaches into me, so I wrap myself around him, locking my legs around his waist.

“I’m never letting go,” I tell him. “You brought this on yourself, I’ll have you know.”

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