Page 100 of Her Orc Protector

The room beyond was small but well-appointed—a wide bed with a dark coverlet dominated one wall while heavy velvet drapes covered the windows. A hearth stood cold and empty. A single chair and a small table completed the furnishings. No personal touches. Nothing that would mark it as a place where people actually lived.

Gavriel closed the door behind us, the soft click of the lock sliding home unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He moved to the bedside table and lit a single candle, casting the room in dim, flickering light.

"We'll rest here tonight," he said, his voice gentle, reasonable. "Then make for Riverbend at dawn. I have arrangements there—a house, not unlike the one we had in Elarion. You'll be comfortable."

I said nothing, standing motionless near the door.

"You're so still," he observed, studying me with a tilt of his head. "So different from the Isolde I remember. Always moving, always questioning." He crossed back to me, reaching out to brush my hair from my shoulder. "But perhaps this is better. Simpler."

His fingers trailed down my arm, and it took everything I had not to pull away. To remember who I was supposed to be right now: docile, enchanted, his.

"I've missed you," he murmured. His hand came up to cup my jaw, tilting my face toward his. "It feels good to have you back where you belong."

Then he was leaning in, his lips seeking mine.

I turned my face at the last moment, his lips landing on the corner of my mouth instead. It was a small rebellion, but even this slight resistance made Gavriel pause. His fingers tightened on my jaw—not painfully yet, but with warning.

"Still shy?" he murmured, eyes narrowing slightly. "After everything we've shared?"

I kept my expression neutral, fighting the revulsion rising like bile in my throat. "I'm tired," I said flatly. "The journey."

He studied my face for a long moment, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. Something shifted in his eyes—a flicker of suspicion quickly masked.

"Of course," he said, releasing me with a small step back. "It's been an eventful day for you. For us both." He gestured to the bed. "Rest, then. We have an early start tomorrow."

I moved stiffly toward the bed, perching on its edge. I didn't lie down. Couldn't bear to be that vulnerable with him watching.

Gavriel remained standing, studying me with that evaluating look I remembered all too well. The look that always preceded correction.

"You know," he said conversationally, removing his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair, "I've wondered whatchanged you. What turned my obedient, devoted wife into..." He gestured vaguely. "Whatever you became in Everwood."

I kept my face blank, but my mind was racing. He was testing me. Probing for weakness, inconsistency.

"Was it the pregnancy?" he continued. "Some women become unstable after childbirth. Or perhaps it was that place itself." His lip curled. "Everwood, with its mongrel population and progressive nonsense."

I said nothing, hands folded in my lap. Waiting.

"Or perhaps," he said, voice hardening ever so slightly, "it was the orc."

My pulse jumped at the mention of Uldrek, but I forced my face to remain still.

"What an amusing charade that was," Gavriel went on, unbuttoning his cuffs with precise movements. "The claiming mark. The testimony. All those tender looks you exchanged." He shook his head. "As if a creature like that could ever truly understand someone like you."

The claiming mark pulsed faintly, warm beneath my skin. Not gone. Still there.

"You belong in civilization, Isolde," Gavriel said, rolling up one sleeve to reveal the silver bracer with its embedded Seal. "With your own kind. With me."

He approached again, standing over me. "But perhaps some part of you is still confused. Still resisting." His expression darkened. "I can fix that."

He raised his hand, and the Seal flared to life—a cold pulse of silver-blue light that hummed with power.

"Obey," he commanded, his voice resonating with unnatural force.

The magic reached for my mind—tendrils of cold that sought purchase, that wanted to rewrite my thoughts, my will.

But it failed.

It hit something burning beneath my skin, something that flared to life at the intrusion. The claiming mark ignited, spreading like embers through my chest. Not just protection. Defiance.

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