Page 28 of Bewitching the Orc Chief

“Come on, Chief.” Her smile lit up my world. “Show me those moves you’ve been practicing.”

I let her lead me onto the floor, wrapping my arms around her waist as we swayed together. Her head rested against my chest, right over my thundering heart. Everything about this moment felt right—the warmth of her body, the scent of rosemary and citrus in her hair, the way she fit perfectly against me.

“Happy?” I murmured against her temple.

“Mmm.” She pressed closer. “Though I still say we should have let Gus be the ring bearer.”

I chuckled, remembering how the hellcat had sulked at being denied. “He’s already terrorized half the clan. Let’s not push our luck.”

Miranda huffed a laugh and tucked herself closer. My hands settled at her waist, content to have her close. We hadn’t seen each other since waking this morning, thanks to endless preparations and human traditions. I’d missed her scent, her soft skin, the gentle curves under my palms.

My mate. My witch. My forever.

MIRANDA

The world shrank to just us as we swayed to the music, my cheek pressed against Osen’s chest. The steady thud of his heart grounded me in this moment—this impossible, perfect moment that I never thought I’d have.

A few months ago, I’d been running scared, convinced my past would taint everything I touched. Now here I was, handfasted to an orc chief and accepted by most of his people.Not bad for a witch who once thought redemption was a foolish dream.

The Sisters were gone, scattered to the winds by our victory. My demon mark still lurked beneath my skin, but it no longer felt like a curse. I’d used that power to save rather than destroy. To protect rather than harm. The mark was mine to define now, just as this life was mine to shape.

Osen’s thumb brushed my cheek, drawing me from my thoughts. He tucked a stray hair behind my ear, his touch impossibly gentle for someone so large. “Have we missed any of your human wedding customs?” he asked. “I want to do this right.”

“Mmm.” I cocked my head and considered. He’d asked if I needed anything in particular when he asked if I’d handfast him, then sent an army of helpers with the same question. But the answer was always the same: just him, whatever official would make things official, and an extravagant party they’d talk about for ages.

And well, the Sisters certainly took care of the last.

“There is the tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold.” I leaned back enough to smirk up at him.

“Ah.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Not so different from the orc custom of dragging our chosen brides from the village to our beds.”

I nearly swallowed my tongue. “You’re joking.”

His expression remained perfectly neutral. “Am I?”

“Osen!” Heat crept up my neck at the hunger in his eyes. “You can’t just say things like that and not tell me if you’re serious.”

“Can’t I?” His massive hands spanned my waist, thumbs stroking slow circles that made me shiver. “Perhaps you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

I rose on my toes to brush my lips against his jaw. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

His only response was to pull me flush against him as the music swelled. We swayed together, but there was nothing chaste about the way his hands roamed my back or how he nuzzled my neck. Every brush of his lips against my skin felt like a brand.

I lost myself in the music and the heat of Osen’s body. So much so that I didn’t notice how far we’d drifted from the others until the song faded. The next one began, but the beat was faster—more upbeat and lively and perfect to hide our escape.

Osen guided me toward the gate with a grin stretching around his sexy tusks. A thrill went through me as we ducked through the shadowed archway. Running away from my handfasting with my big, sexy, green husband felt exactly as scandalous as it should.

We made it three steps before Torain’s voice boomed across the clearing. “The happy couple’s trying to sneak away!”

Cheers and whoops erupted around us. Someone started banging rhythmically on a table. My face burned, but Osen just laughed and quickened his pace.

Osen kicked the door shut behind us, the heavy wood muffling the sounds of celebration outside. I leaned against his chest, listening to his breathing and feeling his heart pound as fiercely as mine. The dim light from the fireplace cast shadows across his face, making his features look more severe than usual. But his touch remained tender as he cupped my cheek, tracing his thumb over my lips.

“My mate. My beautiful witch,” he murmured, the words rumbling through his chest. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air between us. Simple. Honest. Earth-shattering.

We’d danced around them, of course. Hinted at the deeper threads binding us together. But hearing them now, seeing the raw emotion in his dark eyes—it stole the air from my lungs.

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