Page 51 of Orc's Pretend Mate

I frown, thinking that through. It’s not something I’d really thought about. Even calling dating and engagement and marriage rituals now only occurred to me because I don’t know any Zmaj word that encompasses the concepts without adding in other meanings.

“Perhaps,” I muse. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

He nods sagely.

“This is known.”

“I will take your word for it,” I tell him with a smile. If nothing else, all the back and forth in getting my story told is making it seem less… bad? The conversation, and more than that the connection we share, makes this terrible thing that happened to me seem more like it happened to someone else. I’m definitely not the same person I was then.

He reaches across the table and clasps my hand between both of his. Staring into my eyes he leans closer.

“I am sorry,” he says. “This is your story. I do not mean to interrupt.”

“I—” can’t say more, choking on the emotions that swell my throat and make my heart beat faster.

I close my eyes, take a breath, and then exhale slowly before I open them again. My sight is blurry with tears, again. Right there, with one sentence, he sets himself apart from every man I’ve ever known. I have never felt anything like what I’m feeling for him before.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, nodding emphatically. “Better than okay. Truly.”

“Good,” he says, patting my hand. “That is my heart’s truest desire.”

“Ah, good grief, stop,” I say, unable to hold back my tears.

“What? I am sorry,” he pulls back. “I do not mean to offend. Please…”

“No, not offend,” I say, laughing and trying to dry my tears on my sleeve. “Just… you’re too damn good. How the hell can you be so perfect?”

“I am far from perfect,” he says.

“Are you? How?” I ask.

He frowns deeply, looks around the room, and then meets my gaze.

“I often have gas,” he says quietly.

“You what?” I ask, in shock at the unexpectedness of the answer.

He shrugs and his skin lightens which I’m pretty sure is the Urr’ki equivalent of blushing. I burst into laughter and he looks mortified.

“It is true,” he says, hanging his head. “I have many faults, Phoebe. But, I swear to you, I will always try to be better. Anything I do or say that bothers you, tell me. I will strive to be the best I can be. For you. You make me want to be better.”

The sincerity with which he speaks penetrates, tearing down any remnants of walls that I had left. I want him to know everything about me and to know everything about him.

“Vapas, I promise,” I say. “I will always be honest with you.”

“Good,” he says. “I ask no more. But your story. Please, tell me.”

It seems, not pointless, but as if all the weight of it is gone. Still, I started down this path and how can I do less then give him the truth?

So I do. I tell him all about Todd. How he manipulated and used me. Got me to do things that while I never said no, I didn’t want to do. Things that compromised my sense of self-worth. How he used sex more as a weapon than as something for pleasure.

Vapas listens intently. He doesn’t speak except for the occasional growl and spasm of his hands tightening over mine. When I finish he sits in silence, staring intently. With any other person at any other time, it would be uncomfortable. I would think I’d said too much, been too honest, or too raw. But not with Vapas.

“Phoebe,” he says, soft and gentle in tone, “you are strong. You have endured much. I swear to you. I will do all in my power to protect you. You will never know such pain again. You will never be used like that again. And if ever I find this… Todd…” he spits his name, “he will regret everything he ever did.”

I swallow hard, trying to get the lump in my throat to go down. Tears swell, but they are ones of relief. I mouth words, unable to make the sounds, but he gets it. He gets out of his chair and gathers me into his arms, holding me tight.

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