Page 21 of Bewitching the Orc Chief

“Can’t help it.” I squeezed her hand. “You’re distracting.”

She snorted—that adorable sound that first drew me in at the bar. “Smooth talker.”

The rest of Mist & Market hummed with its usual weekend energy. Humans and supernatural beings alike browsed the stalls lining Silvermist’s river walk, haggling over everything from fresh produce to magical trinkets. The sound of running water and casual conversation created a peaceful backdrop at odds with the tension that had gripped Grimstone for days, with my mate right at the center.

“Oh look, honey cakes!” Miranda exclaimed, tugging me toward The Cooling Rack’s bakery stall. Her eyes lit up at the array of pastries with fanciful names and claims. “I haven’t had these since… well, a very long time.”

Since the days of her membership in a dark witch coven.

I resisted the urge to growl. We’d spoken little of the Sisters of the Serpent since healing Torain and the subsequent mating frenzy. Reluctance marked the corners of her smile and weighed her words with resignation. She was mine; no denying that. But Miranda feared what that meant for Silvermist—and for me.

“Well then, we’ll have to fix that,” I told her without pushing, and brushed a lock of hair from her face. The painful words and admissions would come when she was ready, and no sooner.

I bought her three, watching in amusement as she practically bounced with excitement. Crumbs dusted her chin with the very first bite, and the simple joy on her face made my heart stutter. How quickly this woman had become my sun, my moon, my guiding star.

“Good?”

“Mmm.” She licked honey from her fingers and let off a small groan that shot straight to my cock. “Want to try?”

She held out a piece. The casual intimacy of being hand-fed by my mate sent possessive satisfaction thrumming through me. I bent down and caught it with my lips, letting my tusks graze her fingertips.

“Tease,” she griped, but her scent spiked with arousal.

“Says the witch licking honey from her fingers in public.”

A pretty blush stained her cheeks even as she smirked. “Maybe I just like watching you squirm.”

“Chief Axebreaker.” A familiar gravelly voice interrupted before I could pursue that promising direction. “Didn’t expect to see you slumming with us common folk.”

I turned to find Vanin grinning at us from behind his brewery stall. Despite the early hour, he’d already crossed through two selections scrawled on the chalkboard sign behind him.

Miranda waggled her fingers and extracted herself to browse a nearby candle shop. I watched her go, mesmerized by the sway of her hips in the burgundy dress and black leggings she’d conjured out of thin air that morning. ‘Glamoured’ was the technical term, she’d informed me with a laugh. One snap of her fingers revealed the clothing borrowed in my village, then another to her preferred color and style.

‘Unfair’ I named it, manually tugging and fastening my clothes into place.

“Heard some interesting rumors from up the mountain.” Vanin’s eyes tracked Miranda through the crowd. “I see they weren’t entirely exaggerated.”

A growl built in my chest before I could stop it. Vanin held up his hands, though his grin only widened.

“Easy there, boss. Just saying what everyone’s talking about.” He jerked his chin toward Miranda. “She’s good people. Comes into the bar sometimes, always tips well, doesn’t cause trouble. Unlike some chiefs I could name.”

“That was one time,” I muttered. “And you started it.”

“Details.” Vanin waved dismissively. “Point is, you could do worse than a witch capable of ripping death’s teeth from an orc. Though I hear not everyone shares that sentiment.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Alris and my uncle can rot.”

“That bad?” Vanin winced. “Look, I know we rarely do the whole heart-to-heart thing, but I’ve got your back. You need anything down here, just say the word.”

“Could use that support up in Grimstone,” I said, only half-joking.

“Fuck that.” He barked a laugh. “I left that den of vipers for a reason. But...” He straightened, expression growing serious. “I mean it about the support.”

I nodded, grateful for the offer. The past few days felt like a dream and a nightmare rolled into one. Alris and his followers had made their displeasure known through cold shoulders and turned backs—at least when they thought I wouldn’t notice. Cowards. As if I couldn’t smell their fear-stink whenever Miranda passed.

At least Torain had thrown his support behind us completely. My brother had taken to following Miranda around like an eager pup. If it were anyone else, I might have felt a twinge of jealousy, but I knew my brother’s heart. His devotion stemmed purely from thankfulness.

Even Galan seemed torn, his usual disdain warring with a begrudging appreciation for Miranda’s power. It was almost comical to watch him struggle between condemning her magic in view of his father and swallowing his tongue the moment I rounded a corner.

---