Page 70 of Orc the Halls

Laney stops dead.

The rooftop stretches wide and open, bordered by the crumbling lip of the old parapet. Beyond it, the city sprawls toward the shimmer of the Pacific. Battery-powered string lights zigzag between rusted vent pipes, soft against the pale morning. A weather-stained table holds a thermos of her favorite tea, fruit, and the chocolate cookies she loves. A blanket waits in the center, weighed down with two sandbags to keep the wind from stealing it.

“I’ve been working on this for weeks,” I tell her. “When you thought I was pulling extra drills, I was here clearing a path from the front door up the stairs, patching leaks, and scrubbing the roof. Figured the Zone deserved at least one place with a view.”

Her hand covers her mouth. “You did all this?”

“Had help with the lights. Kam likes any excuse to climb things.”

She laughs, but her eyes are wet. “It’s beautiful. I didn’t even know you could see the ocean from here.”

“Only if you know where to look.”

We sit on the blanket, the city humming below, gulls wheeling overhead. I pour her tea. She leans into me, warm and soft, her head fitting perfectly against my shoulder as I hug her tight.

“This is fantastic,” she murmurs. “You’ve been so busy lately. I thought you were stepping into your new lieutenant position.”

“I figured out how to squeeze this in, early mornings, late nights… worth it.”

We fall quiet, letting the light and wind do the talking. Somewhere far off, a siren rises and fades—a reminder of the world still turning.

“Remember the day we met?” I ask.

“When I bit off more than I could chew and you showed up like a green-skinned miracle?”

“You were fierce,” I say, taking her hand. “Scared, but determined. I fell for you that day. Tried to tell myself it was just proximity, but I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That you were it for me. The one thing I didn’t even know I was missing.”

Her fingers tighten around mine. I take a breath, steadying the tremor in my chest, and pull the ring box from my pocket.

“These months—seeing you move here, building a life in the Zone, fighting for our future—every day has reminded me what real courage looks like.” My throat thickens. “You gave up safety and comfort to choose love. You taught me that staying can be the bravest thing of all.”

I open the box. Morning sunlight flashes off the silver band and peridot center stone—green as my skin, bright as her spirit.

“Laney Hillman, will you marry me? Be my mate, my partner, my forever?”

For one heartbeat, even the wind stops. Then she’s laughing and crying. When she moves to wipe her eyes, she nearly knocks over the thermos.

“Yes. Oh my god, yes!”

I barely get the ring on her finger before she’s kissing me, tears and joy tangling between us. My purr rumbles deep and low, vibrating against her mouth until she’s smiling into it, her happiness melting into mine.

We tumble back onto the blanket, the perfect blue sky above us, and the Zone stretched wide below. Her thumb traces my tusk; I breathe her in—morning air, tea, and the faint salt of her happy tears.

From a desperate woman with too many animals and a lonely firefighter who thought he’d never leave the Zone’s fences—how did we end up here?

“I love you,” she whispers. “And this? This is unbelievable.”

“I wanted something that wasours,” I say. “A place we can always come back to.”

She sits up, turning her hand so the light catches the ring. “It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”

“It’s you,” I say simply. “Strong. Bright. Impossible to ignore.”

She laughs, tears streaking down her cheeks. “You’re ridiculous. And I love you.”