Page 14 of Marked by the Scarred Orc (Heat & Ink #6)

Harken

T en years later...

“Dad, Owek put frosting in his hair again,” Gareth calls from the kitchen, his eleven-year-old voice carrying that long-suffering tone of the responsible eldest child.

“It’s on my horns,” five-year-old Owek protests. “For Mom’s party.”

I shake my head and finish hanging the banner that reads “Congratulations Corrine!” across the living room.

After five years of running her own digital marketing firm, my mate has just landed the biggest client of her career, a national chain of orc-owned businesses that wants to expand into human markets.

It’s the kind of success that deserves celebration.

It’s the middle of winter and the sun has already set.

“Dylan, are you hiding those balloons like I asked?” I call upstairs.

“Maybe,” comes the response from my eight-year-old middle son, followed by suspicious giggling.

Dylan is the troublemaker of our bunch, inheriting his mother and aunt’s mischievous streak along with my stubborn nature. It’s a dangerous combination.

I head to the kitchen to check on Owek’s “decorating” and find him with blue frosting smeared across his tiny horns and a proud grin on his green face.

“Very festive,” I tell him seriously. “But maybe we should leave some frosting for the cake?”

“There’s plenty left,” Gareth assures me, ever the practical one. At eleven, he’s already showing signs of the protective instincts that run in our bloodline, always looking out for his younger brothers.

All three of my sons are perfect miniatures of my family line, they have green skin, dark hair, and the crooked nose that all the males in my line proudly display. Their horns are still small and developing, their tusks barely visible, but there’s no mistaking their heritage.

I’ve sent many pictures of his grandsons to my father. I know he gets them, but he never responds. His loss.

“What time are they getting here?” Gareth asks, helping me wipe Owek’s face clean.

“Very soon. Uncle Kavin and Aunt Mia should be here first with your cousins.”

“Is Uncle Talon coming tonight?” Dylan appears in the kitchen doorway, balloons trailing behind him.

“Yes, and remember what we discussed about Aunt Krissy and Aunt Mia.”

“They don’t really like each other but we’re supposed to pretend they do,” Owek recites dutifully.

“They like each other fine,” I correct. “They just... express their affection differently.”

Krissy and Mia’s conflicts have become legendary in our social circle.

They’ve known each other for over a decade and still have not fully become friends.

Sometimes they make up and all is good, then something will happen and they are not talking again.

It is difficult for me to keep up with the status of those two frenemies, so I simply pretend I have no idea there is ever any problems and this seems to work just fine.

Sterling appears in the kitchen doorway, surveying the controlled chaos with his usual disdain.

At twelve years old, he’s achieved true elder statesman status, ruling over our household with an iron paw.

He’s been joined over the years by three more cats, rescues that Corrine couldn’t resist, but Sterling remains the undisputed king of the castle.

“Don’t give me that look,” I tell him. “You knew what you were signing up for when you approved of this family.”

Sterling flicks his tail and stalks away, probably to check on the other cats. Luna, Abby, and Sophie are Sterling’s reluctant subjects, and he takes his supervisory duties seriously.

The sound of Corrine’s car in the driveway and the distant opening of the garage door sends all three boys into motion.

“Places, everyone,” I call. “Remember, when she walks in, we all yell surprise.”

“What if she’s not surprised?” Owek asks, bouncing with excitement.

“She will be. Your mother thinks she’s coming home to a quiet family dinner.”

We hear her key in the lock, and I quickly turn off the lights. The boys huddle around me in the living room, trying to contain their giggles.

“Harken? Why are all the lights off? Did we lose power?” Corrine’s voice carries from the entryway.

She rounds the corner into the living room, and we all shout “Surprise!” at the top of our lungs.

The look of genuine shock and delight on her face makes all the planning worthwhile. Our sons rush to hug her, all talking at once about the party and the decorations and Owek’s frosting horns.

“What is all this?” she asks, though her smile tells me she’s already ready the banner overhead and figured it out.

“Celebration of your success,” I tell her, pulling her into my arms for a proper kiss. “The Stormwood Industries contract deserves recognition.”

“You didn’t have to?—”

“Yes, we did,” Gareth interrupts. “You worked really hard for this, Mom.”

Before she can respond, the doorbell rings, and chaos erupts as our guests begin arriving with food and drink.

Kavin and Mia come first with their four sons, who immediately join our boys in excited chatter about the party.

Talon and Krissy arrive next with their three sons, followed by the rest of the Heat & Ink crew and several of Corrine’s business associates.

The party flows around us, friends and family celebrating Corrine’s success, our boys showing off for their cousins and the other kids, cats weaving between everyone’s legs demanding attention. Our enormous mansion, once cold and empty, now feels alive with warmth and laughter.

I find myself standing back, watching with pride as my beautiful mate works the room with easy confidence.

“You did good, Harken,” Kavin says, appearing beside me with a tankard of orc ale. “My sister-in-law continues to be a perfect mate for you.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe it’s been ten years since that night.”

“Best mistake I ever made,” I admit. “Marking her without permission.”

“That wasn’t a mistake,” Kavin corrects. “It was fate. Sometimes the old ways know what they’re doing.”

Many hours later, after the guests have all left and the boys are finally tucked into bed, Corrine and I sit in our living room surrounded by the comfortable debris of a successful party.

Sterling has reclaimed his throne, with Sophie curled up on the cat tree nearby. Luna and Abby are probably off somewhere plotting mischief, as the younger cats tend to do.

“Thank you,” Corrine says, curled against my side. “That was perfect.”

“You deserve recognition for what you’ve built.”

“We’ve built,” she corrects. “None of this would be possible without you.”

I think about the angry female who once called me a scarred freak and stormed out of my life.

Now she’s my mate, the mother of my sons, the one who turned my empty house into a home filled with love and laughter and cats.

“I love you, my bride,” I tell her, the words still feeling new and important even after all these years.

“I love you too,” she smiles.

From upstairs comes the sound of one of our sons calling out loudly in his sleep, and we both automatically tense, waiting to see if intervention is needed. When silence returns, we relax.

“Ten years,” she muses. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday, sometimes like we’ve been together forever.”

“Any regrets?”

She turns to look at me with those blue eyes that first caught my attention. “Only that I didn’t let you mark me sooner.”

I laugh and pull her closer, breathing in her familiar scent, entertaining thoughts of carrying her upstairs and stripping her naked.

Sterling opens one judgmental eye to look at us, then closes it again with a contented purr.

Even the cat approves of how our story turned out.

Thank you for reading Corinne and Harken’s HEA. I hope you enjoyed!