Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
The only light comes from the moss patches on the wall and the faint golden glow of our mate marks, his and mine, both still humming with residual magic. Whenever his skin touches mine, there’s a pleasant little buzz, like the world’s gentlest electric fence reminding us that we’re officially, irrevocably mated for life. I’ve never been happier.
Oren reaches over and traces the mark just below my collarbone. It tingles, then heats, then cools. His touch is so soft I almost don’t feel it. But I do.
He doesn’t say anything, just runs his thumb in slow circles around the fresh tattoo, eyes following the motion like he’s afraid it’ll vanish if he looks away. His hand is enormous. It covers half my chest. And for once, I don’t care if my breasts are exposed or my hair is a disaster or I have a huge hickey on my neck from his tusks. He looks at me like I’m the answer to a riddle that’s haunted him forever.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, so quiet I barely catch it.
I shake my head, too lazy to move anything else. “Not at all. I’m one tough chick.”
He snorts, the barest twitch of his lips. “My tough chick.”
I glance down. The mark is still pulsing, but faintly, like an ember refusing to die. I poke at it. The tingling intensifies, then fades back.
I twist on my side so I can see him better. Our faces are just inches apart. His eyes are less gold now, more dark, and I can see the tiny flecks of green in the whites. He’s not scowling, for once. The lines in his forehead are relaxed, and the set of his jaw is soft. He looks, if anything, content. Maybe even peaceful. I bet he’d deny it if I pointed it out.
His hand slides from my collarbone up to my face. He palms my cheek and gently tucks a strand of sweat-plastered hair behind my ear. Then his thumb follows the line of my jaw, lingering just under my chin. I’m not used to being handled so gently, but with Oren, it feels… right.
I close my eyes and soak it in. I’m so tired, and so happy, I could just melt into the mattress and become a permanent fixture here. I open them again and find him staring, not away, but directly at me.
“What?” I whisper.
He just shakes his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. I didn’t even know myself until you nearly plowed me over with the baby stroller.”
The words hang in the air, soft but heavy. I can’t believe the big, grumpy Orc is teasing me.
“You were in my way,” I return before turning serious. “I didn’t know it until I met you. But now—” I pause, because there is an unexpected lump in my throat. “Now I don’t want to go back to before.”
His arm comes around me, sweeping me tight to his chest. I curl into him, pillowing my cheek against the warm, hard muscle. He holds me like I’m a treasure, or maybe a shield. Either way, I feel indestructible.
He buries his nose in my hair, breathes deeply, and lets out a sound that’s not quite a purr and not quite a growl—a rumble from the core of him, vibrating through his chest and into mine. I shiver, but it’s not from cold.
“I will never let anything hurt you,” he says, barely above a whisper, but the promise in his words is absolute. “You’re mine.”
It should sound possessive. It is. But I love it. I want to belong to someone so much it aches. I want to be held like this forever. I want to fall asleep safe and wake up knowing someone’s got my back.
I slide my hand up his chest, feeling the slick heat of his skin and the hard slab of his pec. He’s so much bigger than me—twice my width, maybe three times my mass—but he holds me like I’m made of glass. My fingers trace the blackened edge of the mate mark on his skin, right above his heart. He doesn’t flinch, but he looks down, watching my hand with this goofy, amazed half-smile I’ve never seen on him before.
I trace the outline of the mark, then splay my palm flat over it. The heat pulses, and I swear I feel his heart jump in response. He covers my hand with his, pressing it closer. I don’t think I could move away if I tried. Not that I want to.
“I love you, little warrior.” I’ve never heard those three words from anyone in my life. My heart turns to mush as he tilts my face up to his and brushes his lips across my forehead.
My heart melts as the mate mark flares up. “I love you, too.”