Page 35 of Pumpkin Spice & Orc Cinnamon Roll
The trees outside rustle with wind that smells like ash and frost and the turning of something final.
Greaves is closing in.
Tessa’s pulling away.
And I’m standing dead center between two storms, holding nothing but silence and good intentions.
I know I can’t keep hiding.
Not if I want to keep her.
And gods help me—I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
CHAPTER 17
TESSA
The whispers are louder today.
They move through the village like wildfire licking up dry leaves, bright and fast and impossible to ignore. Bits and pieces drift into my shop with every customer who walks through the door—snatches of gossip tucked between compliments on wreaths and casual mentions of harvest jams.
“They say Thornhold's buying up the east side.”
“Heard it from the bakery girl—her cousin’s neighbor signed over his land just last night.”
“Slick move, that one. Builds us up just to tear it down.”
I keep my smile wide and my voice syrupy sweet, but inside, something’s unraveling, thread by thread.
Because no matter how much I want to believe Drogath would never,couldnever—there’s too many signs now. Too much silence. Too many almost-confessions and soft eyes that come with sealed lips.
By the time I close the shop, my fingers are shaking as I twist the key in the lock. The bell above the door gives its usual farewell chime, but tonight it sounds different—off. Hollow, like a goodbye I didn’t see coming.
I find him exactly where I expect—leaning against the hood of his truck just outside the inn, arms folded, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight like he's bracing for a storm. Which is fair. Because I am a storm, and I’ve had enough of waiting for the truth to walk in politely.
“You lied to me,” I snap as soon as I’m close enough, not bothering with a hello.
He straightens, a slow, careful motion like he’s approaching a skittish animal. “Tessa?—”
“No, no, no. Don’t use that voice, Drogath. The one where you try to be calm soIcalm down. I’m not here to be managed, I’m here to beheard.” I jab my finger at his chest—not that it does much good against a wall of solid orc muscle, but it makes me feel like I still have control oversomething.
“I heard it all over town today. People sayingyouare behind the new development. Thatyouhave your name on the purchase papers. And the worst part? I don’t even know if they’re wrong.”
His mouth opens, then closes. Not fast enough.
Not nearly fast enough.
“Gods,” I laugh bitterly, wrapping my arms around my chest to keep the pieces in. “You really aren’t going to deny it, are you?”
“I was trying to stop it,” he says at last, voice low and flat like it’s being pulled out of him through gravel. “I didn’t want to scare you with half-truths.”
“Oh, well, great. Instead you let me walk blindfolded straight into betrayal.” I pace away from him, then whirl back around, heat rising up my throat like smoke. “You let the townthinkyou were their savior while you were buying up land with one hand and stringing me along with the other. How convenient.”
“I’m not stringing you along,” he growls, but there’s no fire behind it. Just cold control. He’s retreating into that version ofhimself Ihate—the quiet, business-faced shadow that speaks in polished edges and silence.
I shake my head. “You think you’re protecting me, but you’re just controlling the damage. Again. You’re deciding what parts of the truth I’m allowed to see, what parts of my life are stillmine.”
“Tessa, stop.”
