Page 9 of Marked by the Scarred Orc (Heat & Ink #6)

Chapter Six

Harken

I t continues to amaze me that Corinne allows me to give her a tour of my new home and appears to be giving this “relationship” a chance.

I could have ruined everything with my overeager move to mark her as mine, which in the heat of the moment appeared perfectly right but could have caused me to lose her forever.

Her anger at getting my mark without her consent seems to have faded. Heat thrums in my veins at the thought of being allowed to see that mark again while I take her from behind.

She is here and has brought her cat, and they are both checking out the domicile I purchased to see if it’s acceptable. I did accidentally purchase an overlarge space, but I’ve let her know that we can move easily if she doesn’t care for it.

The cat’s tail flicks as he prances around through the large space.

Sterling seems to like my home, wandering through every room and basically following along.

I am used to cats. Talon Overtree has three guard cats of his own.

They seem to hate most everyone besides Talon and his mate, but they do accept me.

I could easily grow accustomed to this cat in my vicinity.

My bride’s hint at the idea of filling this home with more cats doesn’t bother me in the least.

Corinne’s stomach growls with hunger.

I am instantly on high alert, needing to take care of my mate. “I will make us dinner. You sit and I will cook.”

She gives me a wide smile. “That sounds wonderful.”

Corinne places a small bowl of water on the floor for her cat and then takes a seat at the enormous center island, settling onto one of the high stools with a grateful sigh.

She is truly the most beautiful female I have ever encountered.

I went to a human high school and have met many females in the small town nearest our commune, and never had the inclination towards any of those unmated females besides friendship.

But with Corinne her scent, her presence, her voice and the curve of her hips and the sheen of her dark hair…

it’s a heady feeling that causes my cock to thicken for the first time in my life.

“Would you like some orc ale?” I question.

“Can I have a glass of wine?”

My features fall. “I didn’t bring wine, only ale.”

She laughs. “No worries. I’ll try the ale. And I promise I won’t act like I did that first night when we met. I don’t usually drink like that. I was out with coworkers for a celebration and it got out of hand.”

“I heard.”

“You were checking up on me?”

“Yes.”

“But this was after you’d already put your mark on me?”

“Yes.”

“A little late, don’t you think? What if you’d found out something about me that was a deal breaker?”

“I knew I wouldn’t. Mainly I was looking for confirmation of a good choice, which is what happened.” I retrieve two bottles of dark ale from the refrigerator and open them both, sliding one across the granite countertop to her.

She takes a tentative sip and her eyes widen. “This is really good. Much better than I expected.”

“It’s from the orc brewery here in town. They cater to our stronger tastes. Only drink one bottle though because it’s stronger than your watery human beer.”

“Good to know.”

I move around the abnormally large kitchen, gathering ingredients for dinner. The space still feels foreign to me, but having her here makes it seem less overwhelming. Sterling has claimed a spot on the windowseat and watches our interactions with interest.

“I have to admit something important,” Corinne says, taking another sip of ale. “You need to know that I’m terrible at cooking. Like, genuinely awful. I’m not even all that great at grocery shopping. I’m more of a call-for-takeout kind of person.”

I pause in pulling spices from the cabinet. “You don’t enjoy cooking?”

“I never learned properly. My mom tried to teach me, but I was always too impatient. And living by myself now in my small apartment doesn’t exactly inspire culinary creativity.

” She runs her hand along the granite surface.

“But I love this kitchen. It’s like something from a cooking show.

It might inspire me to cook, but probably not.

I think it’s best for everyone involved if I’m not the one who makes the food but instead is the one who eats the food. ”

“And I love to cook. It’s one of the few things I learned on the commune that I want to keep doing. I’ve always enjoyed shopping at grocery stores. I’d love to cook for you, learning more and more how to make human food too.”

“What are you making tonight?”

I start boiling water for the rice. “Orc meat sticks with a spice blend that’s been in my family for generations. And rice, mainly for you. Orcs don’t usually need starches, but I know humans enjoy them.”

“Orc meat sticks?”

“Think of them as beef kabobs, but better,” I respond as I prepare the meat, cutting it into precise cubes and threading them onto metal skewers.

The spice blend is complex, it’s a mixture of herbs and seasonings that my father taught me to make.

As I work, I’m aware of Corinne watching my every movement.

“You’re very precise,” she observes.

“Cooking is like tattooing. Attention to detail matters.”

She slides off the stool and moves closer. “Can I help?”

“You can keep me company.”

As I season the meat, she leans against the counter beside me.

Our arms brush as I reach for ingredients, and each casual contact sends another rush of heat through my body.

I want to strip her bare and carry her to my bed so I can experiment with every sexual position I’ve ever heard of with this female.

But I promised to take this slow, at her pace, and I will keep that promise, no matter how difficult.

“Tell me about your work,” I say, wanting to know everything about her life.

“I learned you do marketing for local businesses?”

“Digital marketing, specifically. I help small businesses build their online presence like on websites, social media, that sort of thing.” She takes another sip of ale. “Actually, I specialize in working with orc-owned businesses now.”

“Because of your family connections?”

“Partly. But also, I understand that orcs are new to navigating the human business world and paying taxes and all of that and I’d hate for them to get cheated by unscrupulous humans, so I make sure I’m available and I charge a fair price.”

I slide the meat sticks under the broiler and then stir the rice. “What made you want to do marketing?”

“I like helping people tell their stories. Every business has a story, and my job is figuring out how to share it in a way that connects with customers.” She pauses. “What about you? What drew you to tattooing?”

“It’s the closest thing to our ancient marking traditions that exists in the modern world. On the commune, I was trained as a marker which is someone who creates the ceremonial tattoos that mark important life events.”

“Like coming of age?”

“That, or achievements in battle, successful hunts, finding a mate, having offspring.” I check the meat, noting the perfect char forming on the edges. “It’s sacred work.”

“Is that why you were so quick to mark me? Because it’s part of your practice?”

I consider her question carefully. “Partly. But also, because I’d never felt the mating instinct before. It overwhelmed my rational thinking.”

Dinner is ready, and I plate the meat sticks alongside the fluffy rice. The aroma fills the kitchen with savory and spicy, with undertones of the herbs that remind me of home.

“This smells incredible,” she says as I set her plate in front of her.

We eat side by side at the island, our knees bumping occasionally. The intimacy of sharing a meal I prepared feels more significant than any formal dinner at the massive dining room table.

“Oh my god,” she moans after her first bite of the orc meat. “This is amazing. What’s in this spice blend?”

“Family secret,” I tease. “But I’ll teach you if you want to learn.”

“I’d like that.”

As we eat, the conversation flows naturally. She tells me about growing up with her sister after her parents died, about the close bond she now shares with her. I share the good stories about my childhood and life in the commune.

“Do you miss it?” she asks. “The commune?”

“I miss how life was with my father, especially while growing up. And the simplicity of knowing exactly where I belonged.” I reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, unable to resist touching her. “But I don’t miss feeling like I was carrying shame that wasn’t mine to bear.”

Her fingers find my forearm, tracing the tattoos there. “What do you mean?”

I set down the last bite of my meat stick and wipe my hands, knowing we’ve reached the moment I’ve been both dreading and anticipating.

Her touch is gentle as she traces the outline of a particularly intricate design, and I realize I want her to know everything.

“You asked about my scar,” I say quietly.

Her fingers still on my arm and she meets my gaze. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to.” I turn to face her fully. “I am a marker but also a warrior. There was a war between clans that started a few years ago. Territorial disputes that escalated into violence. This last year I was captured during a raid.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away.

“The enemy clan…they marked prisoners, to show they’d been defeated.

Captured.” I touch the scar that runs from my eye to my lip.

“This was done with a heated blade while I was bound. It was meant to ensure that even if I was exchanged back to my clan, everyone would know I’d been broken.

The shame it brought to my family was…considerable.

In the culture of my family line, being captured alive instead of fighting to the death is seen as cowardice. ”

“But you survived. You came home.”

“I did. But I never belonged the same way after that. The mark was a constant reminder that I’d failed my clan. My own father rejected me.”

She stands and moves between my legs, her hands framing my face. “You didn’t fail anyone. You survived something horrible.”

“I realized something today,” I continue, leaning into her touch. “When I marked you without your consent, I did to you what had been done to me. I took your choice away and marked you permanently.”

“Harken—”

“I understand now why you were so angry. I know what it feels like to have someone mark your body against your will and yet I did the same thing to you.”

“But there’s a difference. That scar was meant to shame you. Your mark on me…it was meant to claim me.”

“Does that make it better? You said yourself that wasn’t an excuse.”

She exhales. “I know, but the more I think about it, I realize that motive in this instance does make a difference. And I appreciate you actively listening to everything I had to say and what Mia said too, and how you’re thinking it through even now.

It shows you can learn and grow, which I appreciate. ”

I pull her closer, burying my face against her neck and pausing to inhale her scent, which calms me. “I never expected to find a mate. Everyone on the commune knew I was never going to find a mate because of the shame I carry.”

Her arms go around me. “You’re not shameful,” she murmurs. “You’re a survivor, and you’re worthy of love.”

“How can you be sure?” I question.

“Because the more time I spend with you, the more I can see who you really are. The orc who gently pets my judgmental cat. Who learns to cook human food just to please me. Who admits when he’s wrong and wants to do better.

I thought you were scary and intimidating when we first met, but now I’m beginning to understand that deep inside you’re a marshmallow when it comes to those you care about. ”

A growl rumbles in my chest at these words from my female.

Does she understand that she is basically declaring her love for me?

I stand and capture her lips in a passionate kiss that tastes like ale.

We break apart when Sterling meows loudly from his spot, as if reminding us that he’s still supervising.

“We should clean up,” Corinne says, though she doesn’t move away from me.

“Together?”

“Together.”

We work side by side, washing dishes and putting away ingredients.

The domestic intimacy is almost as intoxicating as her kisses.

She bumps my hip playfully as she reaches for a dish towel, and I retaliate by stealing a quick kiss when she passes by with the plates.

These moments with her are some of the best of my life.

I’m beginning to wish I’d left the commune sooner.

“This kitchen feels different with you in it,” I admit as we finish.

“Different how?”

“Like home.”

She smiles and stretches up to put a glass in a high cabinet. I steady her with my hands on her waist, and when she turns in my arms, the air between us feels almost charged with electricity.

“Corinne,” I say, my voice rough with desire.

“Yes?” She wiggles against me, rubbing herself on the erection that strains in my pants. I must care for her needs. It is my duty.

Instead of answering with words, I lift her easily onto the granite countertop. She gasps at the sudden movement, her legs automatically parting to make room for me to step between them.

“I want to provide relief for you,” I say, my hands settling on her thighs. “I know you need my touch to bring you to orgasm.”

Her breath catches. “Here? In the kitchen?”

“Right here. Right now.”

She looks into my eyes, and I see the exact moment she decides to trust me completely.

“Yes,” she whispers.