Page 91 of Her Orc Protector

"Thank you," I said, the words sounding stiff even to my own ears.

Inside, the cottage glowed with early evening light, warm and familiar. Hobbie was at the stove, stirring something that smelled of garlic and herbs. She nodded a silent greeting as I entered, her shrewd eyes taking in the tension that followed me through the door.

Ellie sat in her little wooden chair, happily gumming a cloth toy, her curls slightly damp from what must have been a recent bath. She looked up as I approached, face splitting into a wide smile that showed off her new teeth.

"There's my sweet girl," I said, kneeling to kiss her head. "Have you been good for Hobbie today?"

"Child has opinions about everything," Hobbie said, not turning from her pot.

I smiled, breathing in Ellie's clean baby scent. Behind me, I felt rather than heard Uldrek move to the far side of the room, where he began methodically sorting through a pile of leather straps—unfinished harness work he'd been doing for Thok's guards.

The silence that followed wasn't our usual comfortable quiet. It had edges, weight. Hobbie glanced between us, her expression unreadable.

"Stew needs more time," she announced abruptly. "Going for sage from the garden."

Before I could respond, she was through the door, leaving Uldrek and me alone with a happily oblivious Ellie. The door closed with more force than necessary—Hobbie's way of telling us to sort whatever this was.

I straightened, turning to face him directly. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?"

Uldrek didn't look up from his work, fingers testing the strength of a leather strap with practiced precision. "Nothing's wrong."

"Don't." The word came out sharper than I intended. I softened my tone. "Don't do that. Something's been off since the hearing. I thought... after last night..."

His hands stilled, but he still didn't meet my eyes. "I heard you," he said, his voice low and controlled. "Outside, with Leilan. 'I don't need protecting anymore.' Clear as day."

Understanding began to dawn, slowly and with dread. "That's not—"

"No, it's fine," he interrupted, looking back down at the leather in his hands. "It's the truth. You don't. The bond is broken, Issy. Not quiet, not dormant. Broken."

"Broken?" I repeated, hand instinctively going to the claiming mark on my collarbone. It felt cool to the touch, ordinary—just skin where once there had been heat and pulse and connection.

"I felt it snap during the hearing," he continued, the iron control in his voice belied by his tight grip on the leather. "When he was taken away. When the threat was gone."

"That doesn't mean—"

"It means exactly what I knew it would from the beginning," he said, voice flat. "I know what I am, Issy. I know what I've always been. Useful until I'm not."

Ellie began to fuss, picking up on the tension in the room. I moved to her, lifting her from her chair and holding her against my chest. She settled slightly, a small fist gripping my shirt.

"That's not how I see you."

"No?" His eyes met mine, challenging. "Then why haven't you ever said you love me?"

The question knocked the air from my lungs. "What?"

"All this time. All these nights. You've never once said it." His voice was quiet now, almost defeated. "And I think I know why."

I swallowed hard, Ellie warm and solid against my racing heart. "Why?"

"Because you don't," he said. "You needed me. Maybe you wanted me. But love? That takes more than necessity."

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him he was wrong, that of course I loved him. The words were there, ready to spill out. But something held me back—not because they weren't true, but because I suddenly feared they wouldn't be believed.

"You're afraid," I said instead, the realization dawning as I spoke. "You're afraid this was all temporary. That now that I'm safe, I'll leave."

A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face before he masked it. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Liar," I said, echoing our exchange from the night before. "You're terrified. That's why you've been pulling away. Not because you think I don't need you. Because you think I don't want you."