Page 51 of Summoning the Orc

While it was still too small, the Everlock clan was beginning to feel like one. With Dristan as our chief, my gold had been invested and he’d shown me the balance for theinvestment portfoliohe’d started for me.

Whatever that means.

That had also had so many commas and numbers that I’d just nodded at him and offered him a rap of my fist to my chest in gratitude. I wasn’t certain what any of it meant, but the way he’d explained it, I would be able to live off of the profits from the investments and give my mate the kind of comfortable life she deserved.

Not that she accepts my gifts.

I scowled as I mentally glared at the gold coins that lay inside a pouch in the safe in our bedroom. Becca had put it there as soon as she could, tucking away my gift and not spending a single piece.

She’d told me that it was precious to her, and that she didn’t want to waste it or invest it with Dristan, but the insecure part of me wondered if she was keeping it safe so that she could return them to me when she decided that she’d had enough of me.

My heart clenched with worry, but it was soothed as she snuggled against me, settling into that spot on my chest that had been made just for her. We fit like lock and key—her soft body against my hard edges.

“We can stay in,” I told her, running my palm down her back, a mischievous grin spreading across my lips as she shivered under me.

“I already told her yes,” she murmured, regret filling her words. I sighed, trying to shove the images of how I’d wanted to spend the night out of my head.

I’ll just have to ravish her when we’re finished.

The thought made me grin again, and I pressed a kiss to her hair as herphonebegan to ring. Now that I knew that the littleblack box was a communication device, I understood the need for it. It didnotmean that I needed one, no matter how many time Rudgar tried to press one into my hand.

“It’s Pen,” she told me, swiping her finger across the glass. “Hi,” she said in a cheerful voice, holding the phone out between us.

“Can you make that amazing baked ziti that you made for Thanksgiving last year?” she asked, without preamble. “Is it going to be too much? I can order something, but—”

“What did he do?” Becca asked, suspicion and amusement lacing her words at the same time, turning to grin at me as if we were sharing a joke. I leaned in, my heart aching with love that she was including me.

“He ate theentirechicken pot pie that I made,” Pen sighed on the other end of the phone. “I swear, he acts like I don’t feed him.”

“One baked ziti coming up. Do you want me to add some meat in there or—” Becca laughed, shaking her head.

“Yes, please. I’m baking two chickens, but these males caneat,” Pen said, and they both giggled up a storm. I wasn’t sure what was funny about that. We were mated warriors. Ofcoursewe ate a lot to ensure that we stayed strong and able to protect our homes.

I puffed my chest so that Becca could see how capable I was, but she rolled her eyes and turned away from me, heading toward the kitchen, still chatting with Pen.

“Did you want me to make two? This oven ishugeand I have enough supplies,” she bent over the counter, grunting as she pulled a heavy ceramic dish out. I hurried over, grabbing it with ease and putting it on the counter.

She gave me a grateful smile as she and Pen discussed options for things that they could make. I frowned, wondering what I would be able to contribute to the meal. Becca had banned mefrom leaving the building, so I wouldn’t be able to hunt for anything, but I’d seen some flour in the pantry and I made a delicious turr. My mother had been proud of it the first time I made it and that was the highest praise I could receive.

So far, Becca and I hadn’t had a chance to cook together. We’d been too busy touching each other and we’d rummaged through, eating dried meats, cheeses and pre-made breads to sustain our bodies.

Chapter Thirty

Becca

I eyed Rok as he gathered ingredients in front of him. He turned to grin at me as he settled a bowl in front of him, his palms flattening on the island.

“I’m going to make something as well, my Becca,” he announced, his enthusiasm visible in every inch of his body. He was almost vibrating with excitement and it made me want to hug him close.

He wants to feed our clan. The way he hasn’t been able to with his own.

I swallowed back the tears that were threatening and nodded, grinning at him. “That sounds amazing. Did you need help finding anything?” I asked, reaching out to snag him around his waist, hugging him tight.

He shook his head, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. “No, I have everything that I need here. But let me know if you need help,” he told me, nuzzling his nose against my hair.

I nodded, turning back to start filling the pot with water. I watched with amusement as my mate started pouring flour intoa bowl on the island. When I was finished, I started lifting it, but with a tsk, Rok lifted it with one hand and deposited it onto the stove.

When I needed to strain the pasta, he did it again, taking over with ease and then dropping a kiss to the top of my head. I tried to help him withwhateverhe was making, but he shooed me away every time.

---