Page 23 of Orc's Pretend Mate

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she says, her voice trembling.

The words hurt, but I nod.

“I’ll prove that you can. Whatever it takes.”

The silence stretches again, but this time, it feels different. Not heavy, but fragile. Like a truce. And as I stand there, my hand still brushing hers, I realize something that both terrifies and exhilarates me.

My dragoste returned or not, my feelings for her are undeniable.

14

PHOEBE

Idon’t move as Vapas’ words echo in the room.

“I’ll prove that you can. Whatever it takes.”

I want to believe him. My heart aches with the temptation to let myself lean into his strength, to trust the warmth in his gaze. But memories strangle my willingness and ability to believe.

Come on Phoebs, it will be fun…

I push the memories back into the dark closet, unwilling and unable to look at them but in their wake they leave cold terror and a chill sweat.

“What if I don’t want you to prove anything?”

The question slips out before I can stop it and sharper than I intend. It’s fueled by the hidden and suppressed pain. His expression tightens, but he doesn’t look away.

“I don’t believe that.”

His voice is quiet but firm, like he can see through me, past my carefully built walls.

My pulse spikes and my chest tightens. I force myself to sit straighter, but even in the dim light of the room, there is the weight of his eyes studying me. It’s disorienting. He looks at me like I’m something more than real, something worth protecting.

It’s too much. I rise and the chair scrapes loudly across the stone floor. I take a half-step back, trying to put distance between us. Thankfully he doesn’t move, but almost worse, he also doesn’t look away.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice low, almost a whisper.

It feels like a dare, an accusation, and I want him to hear it. He stays silent for a long moment, as if weighing his words.

“To prove that I can be trusted. To prove that I’m here to protect you.”

His words are the same as he’s said before, but the weight behind them is different. The air in the room seems to shift, becoming heavier, as if the space between us is filled with something neither of us is ready to acknowledge.

“I don’t need protection.” The words are out before I can stop them, and I feel the walls I’ve spent years building crumbling with every breath. “Not like that.”

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze never leaving mine.

“You don’t need my protection… or you don’t want it?”

I flinch, the question hitting too close to the truth I’ve been running from for years. I don’t want his protection, not because I don’t need it, but because needing someone always leads to pain. It’s easier to be alone.

Instead of responding, I focus on the space between us and try to steady my breathing. The silence stretches for a few moments, and when I finally glance up, I see something in his eyes that catches me off guard. There’s no judgment there and not a hint of anger as I would expect. None of that, all I see is… understanding.

And that scares me almost as much as the Maulavi. Cold trails down my spine causing me to shiver. I shake my head, looking away. He’s too close and all of this is too much. I need… space.

“I… don’t…” fear clamps my throat and my thoughts. “I’m going upstairs.”

It’s a retreat and I know it. I say it rather than face the fear. He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, but he’s in my way. I keep my eyes cast down, not meeting his, but watching. He stands still, waiting, staring, and then he steps back. Two steps backwards then he moves to the side, giving me a path.

---