Page 15 of Saved By the Mountain Man Orc
That evening, as we sit by the fire sharing stories and planning improvements to the cabin, Drak grows quiet. There's tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before, and his eyes keep flicking toward the windows.
"What is it?" I ask.
He's silent for a long moment. “My brothers. They'll come looking eventually. Check on me."
"Will they..." I swallow hard. "Will they hurt me?"
"No." The answer is immediate and absolute. "I won't let them. But they'll have questions. About what this means, what you know."
"What does it mean?" I ask. "To them, I mean."
Drak stares into the fire, flames reflecting in his golden eyes. "Change. Risk. Everything we've built staying hidden could be threatened by one human who knows too much."
"But not by one human who belongs," I say quietly.
He looks at me sharply. "What do you mean?"
"If I'm yours—really yours—then I'm not a threat. I'm family."
The hope that flickers across his face is almost painful to watch.
"It's not that simple," he says. "There are laws. Traditions."
"Then we'll figure it out." I move to sit beside him, taking his massive hand in both of mine. "Together."
He brings our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
"They'll want to meet you," he says. "Soon."
"Good." I smile at his surprised expression. "I want to meet them too. I want to know the people who are important to you."
"You're not afraid?"
I consider that seriously. "A little," I admit. "But not of them. Of disappointing you. Of not being what they expect."
"You're everything I never knew I needed," he says fiercely. "You're perfect exactly as you are."
The conviction in his voice wraps around me like armor.
Later that night, as we lie tangled together in the furs, I think about the life I’ll leave behind. The deadlines and city noise and constant feeling that I was searching for something just out of reach.
I found it.
Or maybe it found me.
Either way, I'm exactly where I belong.
Epilogue
Jasmine
Sixdayslater
I don't know what I expected an orc mating ceremony to look like.
Maybe something wild and primitive—blood and fire and roaring declarations under the open sky.
But this... this is reverent. Sacred.
