Page 21 of His Orc Warrior (Human Omegas for Monster Alphas #1)

Lucas

If there was one thing I didn’t like about going out on dates with my mate in the human world, it was the way he had to hide who he was. It was like being with him in costume.

Sure, the human side of him was a part of him. I wasn’t saying it wasn’t. But it wasn’t the part of him that he felt most comfortable in. And he always looked just a little bit off, especially in the eyes.

Almost like I was in one of those little sci-fi movies, where you knew the alien had taken over your boyfriend, but they looked just close enough to human that you sometimes forgot.

Normally, I tried to avoid spending too much time doing things in the city, opting to have most of our dates in his hometown. Sure, I was human, but no one there thought humans were fake, which was the opposite of where I lived in the city where no one thought orcs were real.

But today? Today, we were going on a date in the human world, and there would be no hiding. There didn’t need to be any. The two of us were going to a Dungeons & Dragons day at the park.

It wasn’t quite Comic-Con, but it was going to be filled with cosplayers, Bolg could come with us, and there was no need for travel. In my book, that was a win.

I loved that we found a fun activity that where my mate could just…be himself. My guess was that we’d have a lot of people come up to us and talk about how wonderful his “costume” was. Heck, once upon a time, I was one of those.

But aside from that? We were just randos at the park who took the day seriously.

I didn’t have much of a costume—my belly was already getting in the way for anything I had, and buying new for a single date wasn’t my idea of a good time. Instead, I picked up a pair of fake elf ears and some sparkly wings and called myself a fairy.

Close enough.

I really didn’t know that much about Dungeons & Dragons, but they had orcs, and the festival had food, activities, and even craft demonstrations. It was going to be a blast, especially with my sexy mate by my side.

There were live games being played that we could watch, but I still hadn’t figured out how that would be interesting from a spectator’s point of view. It wasn’t as if there’d be enough seats close enough to hear what they were saying. It was going to be cool to see how they made that work.

Who was I fooling? Everything about the day was going to be cool. It was going to be a great day, at least once we found parking.

“This place is packed.” Silly me. I thought the activity was too much of a small niche to fill up. Us parking three fields over determined that was a lie. It was a good thing I was actively working on increasing my steps, and this gave me as good a reason as any.

I intertwined my fingers with my mate’s.

“Let’s try not to get lost.” I was saying that more to myself than my mate.

“Don’t worry.” He tapped my nose. “I can always find you.”

He leaned in, voice teasing. “The larger our baby gets, the sweeter you smell. I’m surprised you don’t have people coming up to you, licking you, thinking you’re a lollipop.”

I rolled my eyes.

It wasn’t the first time he’d told that joke.

And it wasn’t going to be the last.

It was also never going to be funny.

We paid our admission and started at my most frequent place—the bathroom. Currently, our little orkling was sitting right on my bladder, having a kick time down there.

It was not fun.

And “little” was not the most accurate statement. He’d be little if this were a human birth. But as an orc? Yeah. Little wasn’t the word I’d use to describe him.

It was one of the reasons I was advised not to go to a regular paternity doctor—because they would think something was wrong with our child simply because they were huge. And boy, were they going to be huge.

Not that I wanted to think about that now.

Even if the doctor told us they were going to be tiny, there would still be a whole lot of nerves about how to get the baby out.

Getting them in? That had been a whole lot easier. At least in our case.

Thrain and I wandered around the field, looking at the vendors. Some had really cool merch, and others spent so much time hard selling that their ideal customer had passed them by. And, of course, because this was D&D there were a ton of really cool artisans.

We watched people playing games, admired the costumes, were stopped multiple times to take pictures with people’s kids.

And then we sat in the food-truck court. You could get caught in there for hours.

It was like the epitome of being a couple—only without the hiding that we always had to do. It was the absolute perfect date for what we needed.

“There’s a blacksmith demonstration in ten minutes,” I said. “Did you want to go?”

“I’d love to.”

Thrain’s eyes lit up. “I want to see if they’re open for commissions.”

I didn’t think too much of it.

Not until Thrain actually sat down with the guy as he sketched the piece he was potentially going to make—or find—for him.

Only to find out: It wasn’t for him at all. He’d commissioned a matching bracelet for our newborn so he’d always remember where he came from.

He was going to be such an amazing father, and somehow I got to call him mine.