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T hey ended up back in the Skyli , gathered together in the beautiful, familiar cathedral.

It felt like a celebration, especially since John - Ka had already handed Lew over to a group of waiting Skai guards he’d organized, and he’d sent off Lew’s letters to Sybil and Lord Nash , too. He’d also arranged for multiple baskets of food to be delivered — hauled in by a wryly smiling Julian — and he’d even brought in Efterar and Kesst , in case there had been any injuries.

“No, I’m really fine,” Daisy told Efterar , who was running his hand up and down her torso, his brow deeply furrowed. “ It all went as well as it could have, right, myrkrie mitt ?”

Beside her, Filak firmly nodded, though he also kept frowning at Efterar , and casting disapproving glances down toward the front of Efterar’s trousers. “ Ach , sólin mín ,” he replied. “ You were magnificent.”

He said the word carefully, accenting every syllable, and Daisy shot him a warm, surprised grin, because that one definitely hadn’t been in the book, right? While before them, Efterar harrumphed, and hovered his hand over that half-carved vow on Daisy’s belly. “ Well , you still should have come to see me about this tattoo,” he said, though his voice was mild. “ And I assume you know about your son?”

Daisy nodded, and angled another warm glance up at Filak’s face. “ Yes , thank you,” she replied. “ It’s something we both wanted, and we’re very excited.”

Filak’s eyes on hers had slightly widened, a slow, stunning smile drawing at his mouth — and in a jerky movement, he tugged her tightly into his side, and pressed a fervent kiss to her hair. “ Ach , very excited,” he repeated, husky. “ Our son shall be greatest Nor -ka-esh artist in realm.”

Daisy beamed back toward him, and only half-noticed Efterar’s preoccupied nod. “ Well , it all looks good,” he said. “ You’ll need to start coming by the sickroom for regular visits, especially if you do any more of this .”

He waved his hand toward that carved vow, which now seemed to be fully healed and embedded in Daisy’s skin, written in a pale perfect white. And she seemed strangely caught on the sight, blinking down toward it, and Filak softly caressed his hand over it, too.

“This is gott ,” he told Efterar , with a grudging little smile. “ Vie erum takklát .”

We are thankful , it meant, and Efterar easily waved it away, and turned to go — but then found himself blocked by Kesst , who had stalked over to join them, wearing a suspiciously innocent smile.

“Yes, and if you’d ever like to return the favour, you can draw us more portraits,” Kesst said toward Daisy , his voice light. “ I have a few fabulous ideas, and I’d love to hear if you ever do inking? Or paints?”

Daisy opened her mouth to agree, but then she was interrupted by Filak’s loud, vicious growl beside her. “ Nei , Kesst ,” he snarled. “ Daisy is mine . Daisy make art of me . Daisy colour my prick!”

Daisy half-laughed, half-grimaced, and lightly patted Filak’s arm. “ Of course I’ll colour your prick, myrkrie mitt ,” she said bracingly. “ As much as you like. And how about we’ll talk about the rest later?”

Filak shot her a narrow, dubious look, while Kesst’s grin was bright and stunning, and surprisingly grateful, too. “ Thank you, sister,” he replied. “ And also, this Skyli really is quite something, isn’t it? Have you arranged for any proper decorating, or furnishing? It could use some help from someone with an excellent eye for style, don’t you think?”

He didn’t wait for a reply, and instead just grasped Efterar’s arm and steered him off, flashing a satisfied smile back toward them over his shoulder. Leaving Filak furiously glowering after them, and muttering to himself about meddling Ash - Kai and their infuriating good taste, and how he might need to dig a special soundproof dungeon, just for Kesst .

“ Nei , Filak ,” Daisy cut in, with a teasing grin toward him. “ He’ll do a fantastic job of decorating, and you know it. And also” — she raised her brows — “you are mine, myrkrie mitt . You make dyflissa for me !”

Filak’s chuckle was bright and amused, the approval glimmering in his eyes, and he gave a tantalizing squeeze to Daisy’s arse. “ Ach , sólin mín ?” he murmured. “ We make good dyflissa here for us?”

Daisy shyly nodded, leaning closer into his touch — but before it could go any further, they were joined by John - Ka and Rosa , and all the rest of the orcs who’d helped them with Lew . And the warmth bubbled higher in Daisy’s belly as Filak nodded toward them, a genuine smile on his mouth — and then he even bowed his head toward John - Ka , and raised his hand to his heart.

“ Takka tér fyrir, bróeir, ” Filak said. “ Fyrir ae hjálpa Daisy , og koma okkur aftur saman .”

Thank you, brother, it meant. For helping Daisy , and bringing us back together .

It took an instant for Daisy to digest that — John - Ka had brought them back together? But glancing back and forth between them, Daisy belatedly realized that of course John - Ka had helped to manage that, too. He’d surely sent for Filak , and kept him informed on their plans, and included him. Just like a good leader would.

But John - Ka didn’t seem to expect any accolades for this, because he only curtly nodded, and then began speaking in calm, steady Aelakesh . Telling Filak that it was his honour to be of service, and that he hoped to continue supporting Filak and the Skyli , and rebuilding the mountain’s relationship with the Nor -ka-esh.

“Also, brother,” John - Ka said, switching to common-tongue, “if you agree, I wish to grant you a new title, on behalf of all the Ka -esh. Henceforth , you shall be known as” — he took a breath — “the Verndari of the Skyli .”

The… Verndari ? Daisy shot an uncertain glance toward Filak , who had snapped to sudden, curious stillness, his eyes wide and unblinking on John - Ka’s face. While beside John - Ka , Rosa cleared her throat, and smiled encouragingly toward Daisy . “ The Verndari used to be the keeper of the Skyli ,” she explained. “ The guardian, you could say, or the warden. We found it in one of the old books here, and it was a position that was originally granted by the Priest of the Ka -esh, toward an orc who had demonstrated great commitment and self-sacrifice toward the Skyli , for the gain of all the clan.”

Oh. And surely Filak had already known all that, and that was why he still looked so astonished, his swallow bobbing in his throat. As if he would have never expected such an appointment from John - Ka , or maybe — the certainty flicked through Daisy’s thoughts — he’d expected John - Ka to take all the credit for the Skyli , or even to assume such a prestigious position for himself.

“ Tú heierar mig, Prestur ,” Filak finally said, hoarse, raising his hand to his heart. “ ég tigg tae mee gloeu geei, ef sálufélagi minn samtykkir tae .”

You honour me, Priest , it might have meant. I am glad to accept, if my mate agrees.

It unfurled bright and bubbly in Daisy’s belly, and she nodded and smiled up toward him. “ Ach , Filak ,” she murmured. “ Of course I agree.”

Filak slowly smiled back, squeezing her closer into his side, and Daisy could almost feel the new title settling upon him, relaxing his shoulders, warming his eyes. He was no longer an outcast, running afraid and alone. He had friends, and a clan, and a mate, and a home — and even a title that sounded like him, like art. The Verndari of the Skyli .

Filak’s eyes were blinking hard now, and he squared his shoulders, and glanced up at the other orcs still gathered around them. Julian , and William and Soren , and Gareth and Hallr , even Kesst , who had dragged Efterar back over to observe the goings-on.

“I… thank you all,” Filak said toward them, in slow, careful common-tongue. “ You helped me regain my mate, my son, and my home. I shall no forget this. I hope” — he drew in a shaky breath — “you shall come here to Skyli as oft as you wish. Make Skyli your retreat, or your home.”

The assembled orcs nodded and smiled back, and several of them — especially Soren and William — looked as though they might be seriously considering it. While Filak kept rapidly blinking, as if he was still thoroughly overcome by this, and Daisy stroked his back as she drew in a deep breath. “ And also, maybe the Skyli can be a refuge for all of Orc Mountain , too, whenever you need a safe place,” she added, with a hopeful glance up toward Filak’s face. “ As long as you don’t mind, myrkrie mitt .”

Filak shot a small, wavering smile down toward her, as if they’d already agreed on this, long before Daisy had gone off and announced it to Lew . As if this had always been part of their plan for the Skyli , and maybe — maybe it really had been, all along.

“Yes, we would be very grateful,” cut in a familiar voice, a woman’s voice — and Daisy twitched at the sudden sight of Jule , walking across the cathedral toward them, together with Grimarr and two adorable orclings. “ It’s a truly spectacular place, and a great asset to us all. Thank you for offering to share it with us.”

Filak’s lip slightly curled as he gazed back at Jule , but then he eyed her orclings, and sighed, and nodded. “ You send more orcs for digging,” he told her, his voice flat. “ Many strong hale orcs. With no mistrust, and no secrets, and no schemes!”

Jule wryly smiled and nodded, raising both her hands in clear capitulation. To which Filak curtly nodded back, and made to guide Daisy away — but then he hesitated again as another orc stepped forward. Julian , with a soft smile on his mouth, and a full food basket in his hands.

“May the gods bless you both, and your son,” Julian told them, as he held out the basket toward Daisy . “ I am so glad you have found one another, ach?”

Daisy’s eyes prickled, and she nodded and clutched the basket, and gave Julian a weepy, grateful smile. While Filak lurched forward, and clasped Julian’s slim body into his arms. “ Ach , bróeir ,” he replied, hoarse. “ Tú hefur hjálpae okkur svo mikie. Tú ert gimsteinn .”

You have helped us so much , it meant. You are a jewel. And Daisy nodded and sniffled as she kept smiling toward Julian , and wiping away the tears streaking down her cheeks. Julian had vowed to help her, that first night they’d met, and he’d kept his word ever since.

“Yes, you’ve been so good to us, Julian ,” she said, once Filak had drawn back again. “ You know we’d love to have you here anytime, and we’ll do our best to return all your kindness.”

But Julian only shook his head, and waved it away. “ Ach , there is no need,” he replied, though his voice slightly wavered. “ You have both granted me much hope, and helped me forget.”

Helped him forget. It again spasmed in Daisy’s throat, but before she could speak, Julian gave them another sad little smile, and walked away. And Daisy’s glance up toward Filak found him looking just as stubborn as she suddenly felt, his brow creased with deep disapproval.

“We find Rurik , and lock him in new dyflissa ,” he said flatly. “ Swarm him with hungry vermin. Feed him mouldy mushrooms. Taunt him with pretty jewels, just out of reach.”

Daisy couldn’t help her bright laugh — of course Filak would consider that the worst kind of torture — and she willingly leaned into his side as he steered her toward the door. But then she hesitated and glanced backwards, toward Rosa and John - Ka . “ One more question, Rosa ,” she said. “ How … how did I start to see in the dark? Is it really just… magic?”

Rosa’s eyes instantly sharpened, and her darting glance toward Filak looked almost impressed. “ Already ?” she demanded. “ Really ? That is most definitely a new record, it took me years ! I wonder if there’s something in the Nor -ka-esh genetics, somehow? That would be a highly beneficial adaptation for their women, and a very important note for my anatomy book, too…”

She fumbled into her satchel for some paper, frowning as she began taking notes, while beside her, John - Ka fondly smiled, and then cast a too-aware glance toward Daisy . “ This is oft an effect of orc-seed upon humans, over time,” he told her. “ We have only begun to fully study this, but it seems that of all the clans, Ka -esh seed oft tends to grant night vision the strongest — though never before in a matter of weeks.”

His gaze on Filak had begun to look rather assessing, too, while Filak gave a bemused smile back, and a reassuring squeeze to Daisy’s side. “ We pray, ach, sólin mín ?” he said, with satisfaction, as his free hand firmly patted at the front of his trousers. “ Pray for good seeing, and strong fucking. Gods hear us, and grant this.”

He sounded so certain, so decisively pleased, and Daisy’s thoughts flashed back to that eye she’d painted there, that night she’d promised to stay. Almost as if she had known, or maybe the gods had even shown her the way…

“Ach, Filak ,” she replied, with a grateful smile up toward him. “ We prayed, and the gods heard us. Both of us.”

She didn’t miss John - Ka and Rosa exchanging a deeply dubious glance, and Rosa had stopped writing down notes — but thankfully, they didn’t argue. And when Filak began steering Daisy away again, she cheerfully waved goodbye, and then sank heavier into Filak’s touch and his certainty. Into the truth of her magical powerful mate, reconciled to his clan and his home — and to his gods, too.

“So what were you doing all this time, after I left?” she asked lightly, glancing up at his face. “ And did I tell you about the portrait Rosa is sending to Rurik for me?”

Filak shot her a curious look, pulling her tighter into his side, drawing her toward the door. And as they walked through the Skyli’s familiar corridors together, Daisy told him all about her plan with Rosa and the portrait, and in return, Filak told her everything he’d done after she’d left Orc Mountain . Which had apparently included him commandeering a second cart from the shop, and racing after them toward Dusbury .

They kept talking and laughing together as they climbed up a now-repaired staircase, and through multiple thick doors only Filak could enter — and then, finally, into the cave. The first cave, the welcome cave, their cave. It hadn’t yet been fully restored, but all the rubble was now cleared away, and the shape of it was beautifully clear, with the rounded walls, the arched ceiling, the protective watching eyes in the floor and the ceiling.

It felt so familiar now, so safe, their own refuge from everything else, and Daisy settled beside Filak on that same large flat rock, and joined him in digging into the basket of food Julian had given them. As always, it was full of delicious-smelling treats — cured meats, fresh breads, nuts and berries — and Daisy was surprised to see Filak’s eagerness as he instantly began eating, munching away with astonishing speed and ease.

“Uh, are you feeling all right?” she asked him, wryly smiling around her own mouthful of meat. “ Did you finally realize how much you love food?”

Filak shot a sheepish grimace toward her, even as he popped a handful of berries into his mouth. “ Nei , sólin mín ,” he told her, once he’d swallowed. “ It is only — the gods. They now answer the greatest of all my prayers, ach?”

The greatest of all his prayers. As if Filak had still really been praying, all this time? Still fasting? Maybe praying for the Skyli’s restoration? Or his son? Or the reconciliation with the Ka -esh?

“The gods grant me you , sólin mín ,” Filak added, softer, with a brush of his claws to her cheek. “ My sun. My artist. The one who sees me.”

Daisy swallowed, searched his eyes, but he truly meant it, his gaze steady and certain on hers. “ You choose me,” he said, even quieter. “ You choose to stay, and share your light with me. This is all I pray for, all these days and nights.”

It was a quiet quivering wonder, blossoming in Daisy’s chest, and she leaned into the touch of his hand, the familiar light scrape of his claws on her skin. And when he set the basket aside, and closed the space between them, Daisy sank deeper into his hands and his kiss, the gentle weight of his body guiding her downwards. Until she was lying on her back on the hard flat stone, with Filak’s body long and warm beside her, his lips hot and hungry against hers.

It whirled up a memory of another long-ago night in this room, another blaze of burning colours in the dark — but this time, it wasn’t a distant dream, a sparkling far-off fantasy. No , no, it was hers, it was real and alive and true, and Daisy welcomed it, opened for it, bloomed all over beneath the sheer aching joy of it. Filak was hers. Her mate.

And when his caressing hand began undressing her, revealing her to the darkness, Daisy welcomed that, too. The freedom, the art, the familiar wonderful contrast of his warm skin and strong fingers and sharp claws. And in return, her own tingling hands shoved down his trousers, and she shivered all over at the heavy, tantalizing weight of his velvety cock on her hip, already streaking its sweetness against her skin.

But Filak didn’t rush, didn’t push. Only kept drawing her deeper into him, into his strength and his need and his intensity. His body easing up over her now, his kisses still filling her mouth, his knees spreading hers wide apart. And then his hand found her throat, curving around it with such careful gentleness, close and dangerous…

But Daisy trusted him now. She saw him, she knew him, she wanted everything about him — and when Filak reached down, and brought up the two halves of her broken kraga , it was more stunning art, more stark beautiful truth. And — her breath caught — it was even written there on the kraga , etched into both curved inside edges, in elegant curling Aelakesh . A vow. A new vow.

“I honour you, and cherish you,” Filak murmured, translating, as he traced his claw against the script. “ I keep you safe and whole and fulfilled, so long as I live.”

Daisy met Filak’s eyes, drank up the undeniable weight of that vow — a vow that had surely been written there on the kraga , this entire time. It had always been part of this, and he had always, always meant it, even in their darkest nights.

But it was right, now, that Filak let her look at the vow, let her wonder at it, bring up her finger to stroke against it. And then right, too, that his knees should spread her thighs wider, so his hot delving cock could nestle against her wet willing warmth, find its flower, its home. And then right, glorious, perfect, that he should ease in slow and deep, fill her and quake her all over, while his warm hands spanned the cool kraga around her throat, and closed it with a soft, decisive snap.

Mine , it meant, loud and unshakeable, defiant in his eyes. Mine , mine, mine .

And yes, that was exactly what Daisy wanted, her fierce stunning mate staking his claim, swearing his vow, locking and guarding her throat — and now, with a sudden stuttering snap of his body, he was fucking her, too. Pumping in and out, slamming hard and fast and possessive, driving as deep as he could go. Shouting , screaming it to all the world, mine, mine, mine .

But Daisy was shouting it too, clamping her arms and legs tight around him, digging her fingernails into his skin. Dragging him harder, hotter, closer, demanding he shout it louder, show her with everything he had. His hips thudding, his bollocks slapping, his cock plunging in and out with staggering strength. The sounds slick and wet and shameless, rising with their gasps and cries, urging them closer and closer —

And then it caught, shivered, held — and blazed up into a raw, shuddering euphoria. Spinning them both up into its wild whipping thrall, shouting and clinging together, pouring out their pleasure and wonder. And Daisy had never felt so pure, so real and alive and powerful, cradled tight between Filak and the stone, while he pummelled her full of his hot surging seed, and sank his sharp teeth deep into her gold-encircled throat.

Daisy couldn’t have said how long they stayed locked together, the truth and the power still juddering out between them. But when Filak finally drew back, his eyes were bright, his face wet, his reddened mouth slightly quivering. And Daisy might have been weeping too, stroking both her hands at his wet cheeks. Her mate. Hers .

He smiled back at her with such warm, shining affection in his eyes, and then, with a brief glance downwards, he sank backwards out of her, onto his knees between her legs. Releasing a sudden surge of molten heat from deep within her, spilling it all over the stone beneath them.

But that was part of the art, too, just like the way he leaned down and gently kissed her belly, where the bottom two lines of his vow had almost fully faded. And then he brought down his claw, brushed it carefully at her skin, and searched her blinking eyes. Asking , Do you still want this, from me?

But yes, Daisy still wanted it, and Filak saw it, he knew it. Nodding back toward her, giving her another wavering little smile, before slowly strengthening the pressure of that claw, sinking it deep enough to leave the first careful mark on her skin.

And maybe it was the still-radiating pleasure, or his other hand still gently stroking her hip, but the pain was only a distant shimmering prickle, another colour in the joy. In the truth of her mate finally finishing this, marking her with firm, deliberate strokes, moving slow and reverent across her skin. Making her his own. Making it forever.

When he finished, those three equal lines of his vow were finally there, complete, together. And Daisy blinked down toward them again and again, while a sudden tightness caught in her throat. Filak had sworn it. Embedded it forever into her skin, and her heart.

“ ég mun virea og dá tig ,” Filak murmured, as his eyes glimmered on hers. “ ég mun veita tér oryggi, k?rleika og lífshamingju svo lengi sem ég lifi .”

And it was the same vow as the one on the kraga , the same truth. I will honour you, and adore you. I will keep you safe and loved and fulfilled, so long as I live.

For an instant, Daisy could only feel the strength of it, shuddering all through her — and then she hurled herself up, and into her mate’s waiting arms. Squeezing him as tightly as she could, feeling his heartbeat race against her skin. Feeling how much this had meant to him, and now — now —

“Can I do one too?” she whispered, pulling back, searching his eyes. “ Mark you, myrkrie mitt ?”

Filak’s eyes widened, flared with warmth and longing, and then he glanced downwards. Toward — oh. That daisy she’d drawn on his hip, its ink now faded too, worn to a pale grey.

He jerked a fervent nod, and Daisy guided him down onto his back. Feeling how easily he went, how he shivered as he settled against the stone, how much he wanted this. And he even offered up his hand toward her, giving her a hopeful little half-smile. Suggesting that — oh. She could use his own hand, his own claws.

It would be the most unusual medium Daisy had ever used for drawing, but suddenly it felt just as right as all the rest. Just him, and them, and their art. And she shot him another shy, grateful smile as she carefully gripped his long clawed finger, and guided it downwards, toward the eye in the middle of the daisy.

She’d meant to scratch lightly, maybe just deep enough to sink through, but Filak’s claw pressed down with surprising force, instantly bringing red to the surface. And Daisy’s shocked glance up toward his eyes found them warm and glinting, sharp with stubborn certainty. Wanting this. Wanting it to stay.

So they did it together, drawing together line by line, stroke by stroke. Marking Filak forever with Daisy’s hand, Daisy’s sign, Daisy’s art. And as raw and strange as it was, it also again felt like a prayer, stronger than any of the rest. Speaking her vow, showing her care, pleading for his partnership, his seeing, his home.

By the end of it, she felt almost dazed with it, lost in the overwhelming intensity of it — but it was still real. Still here. Still alive and warm and true, her wondrous mate now wearing her mark in bright vivid red, and blinking at her with utter devotion in his eyes. His mouth opening and closing, silent and helpless, as if he couldn’t find words to speak.

But it didn’t matter. It had never mattered. They had always known, always understood, always seen. And when Daisy knelt down over her beautiful bonded mate, they shouted it together with their kiss, their hands, their art.

Mine , they said, promised, in perfect accord, in every language in the realm. Mine , mine, mine .