The last part sounded like a vow, like the words forever written across Daisy’s belly, and on her kraga . And Julian clearly recognized them too, his body betraying a faint flinch, his shoulders rising and falling, while his bottom lip began quivering, as though he might weep.

“Ach, Rurik of Clan Skai ,” he finally whispered, soft and hoarse. “ Yes . I wish.”

For an instant, Rurik looked genuinely stunned, enough that his tall body slightly swayed in place, his lashes fluttering low. But he quickly recovered, and then squared his shoulders, and plucked out something from his trousers. A thick, solid gold circle, curving out bright and gleaming from his grey fingers. A … a kraga ?

Julian’s breath caught, his eyes frozen on the sight, and Rurik brought the kraga up between them, and snapped it open. And his black brows rose as he studied Julian , in a silent but very clear question. Do you truly want this from me?

Julian shuddered all over, his eyes briefly closing with palpable relief. And when his gaze met Rurik’s again, he looked utterly calm, utterly certain — and then he took a smooth step forward, straight into the waiting touch of the kraga .

Rurik’s eyes fluttered again, but then he slowly, carefully closed the kraga around Julian’s throat, until it snapped shut with a decisive-sounding click . And in return, Julian again shuddered all over, hard enough that he lost his balance, tilting toward the floor —

But then Rurik surged forward, catching Julian’s smaller body tightly in his arms. His hands running all up and down Julian’s back, and then up to his shoulders, his head, his face, as if he desperately needed to touch him all over, while Julian trembled and gasped in his arms, and looked dangerously close to weeping.

“Come away with me, elskan ,” came Rurik’s voice, muffled into Julian’s hair. “ I shall tend you, and treasure you, and seek to earn your trust again.”

With that, he began guiding Julian away toward the door, without a single look back. And though Julian willingly went, he also cast a brief, wet-eyed glance over his shoulder, his eyes catching on — Daisy . And she could only beam tearfully toward him, giving a frantic wave goodbye with her pencil. To which he smiled back, slow and breathtakingly stunning, looking suddenly happier than she’d ever, ever seen him.

“I don’t see what he has to be so happy about,” Kesst muttered beside Daisy , once Rurik had dragged Julian out of the room. “ That sounded like an absolutely rubbish offer to me, all of it to that smug Skai’s benefit. No fidelity, and no say over what Rurik decides to do, and no coin, either? Julian should have at least bargained for…”

His voice trailed off as he shot a narrow, searching look toward Daisy , who was still sniffling and smiling and wiping her eyes, while also casting up a silent fervent prayer that Rurik would appreciate Julian properly, and treat him the way he deserved. But Julian knew what he wanted, and Daisy had a suspicion that Rurik might be in for a few surprises, too.

“Wait,” cut in Kesst’s sharp voice, his nostrils flaring. “ Daisy . Did you have something to do with this?”

Daisy thought about denying it, but Kesst always had an uncanny ability to sniff out whatever gossip he wanted, and they were already attracting multiple glances, too. Especially from Rosa’s brothers Tristan and Salvi , who had both still been standing nearby, Tristan with a stunned expression on his face, Salvi with an angry, disbelieving frown.

“Er, only a little, probably,” Daisy said, with a half-smile, half-wince. “ We just — sent Julian’s portrait to Rurik , that’s all.”

Kesst stared at her for an instant too long, his brow slowly furrowing — and then he spun around, and flailed his hand toward his bulky brother Rathgarr . Who had been standing halfway across the crowded room, animatedly talking with a few other Ash - Kai , but he somehow instantly noticed Kesst’s signal, and strode over to join them at once.

“What is it?” he asked Kesst . “ Is aught amiss?”

“No, I’ve just had a revelation,” Kesst said, with a wave toward Daisy . “ She got Rurik to come back for Julian , with a portrait .”

Rathgarr turned his intent gaze on Daisy , his brow furrowing to match Kesst’s , and Daisy fought the sudden urge to open her sketchbook and draw the pair of them. “ Um , is there something wrong with that?” she asked. “ I mean, Julian wanted Rurik to come back, so…”

But now both Kesst and Rathgarr had shifted their matching frowns across the room, toward — oh. Kalfr . He had come to the party at Daisy’s express invitation, together with a few other Bautul — but since the entire situation with Sybil , he’d been even quieter than before. There had been several weeks where he hadn’t been seen in the garden at all, and even now, he was sitting alone on a bench beside the wall, staring blankly down at the tankard in his hands.

“We need a portrait,” Kesst said flatly toward Daisy , while Rathgarr produced a large gold coin, and then plunked it into her hand. “ Of Kalfr , looking excessively sad and handsome.”

“Ach,” Rathgarr added. “ And with that lying murderous woman beside him, I ken. Simpering , mayhap? Or showing her teeth?”

“Both, I think,” Kesst replied thoughtfully, tapping his claw imperiously on Daisy’s sketchbook. “ Ooooh , or maybe you could draw us multiple versions?”

Daisy should probably have protested, but she couldn’t stop glancing over at Kalfr , either. She knew he’d sent a copy of her book to his son, but he’d avoided mentioning it ever since, and she’d hated the thought of him waiting alone, hoping his son had seen it, praying for a response that never came.

“Are you sending this portrait to Kalfr’s weaver ex?” she asked now, chewing doubtfully at her lip. “ Do you really think that's going to help?”

“Ach, no, not her ,” Rathgarr replied firmly, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “ This shall go to the other one. Gaelfr . It shall set him raging, I ken.”

He looked darkly pleased by this, and beside him, Kesst was cackling, and drumming his claws together. “ I only wish we could see it,” he said gleefully. “ I wonder if we should try to deliver it in person?”

This led to an intensive discussion on the merits and dangers of taking such a long trip, and whether this Gaelfr would be likely to murder whoever dared to deliver him such a portrait. While Daisy half-listened and focused on drawing, first sketching a tall, handsome, sad-eyed Kalfr , and then adding a beautiful, sharply smiling Sybil beside him, clutching tightly at his arm. As if she was about to open her mouth at any moment, and tell him to move on, and forget his son forever.

Daisy wasn’t sure if it was actually an accurate likeness of Sybil — it had been a long time since she’d seen her — but once she’d finished, both Kesst and Rathgarr seemed thoroughly pleased, and Rathgarr even plunked another coin into Daisy’s hand. “ Thank you,” he told her. “ Your art is a great gift to us all.”

It fizzled low and content in Daisy’s belly, and after a few deep breaths, she finally returned to the party. Eating some of the delicious treats from the huge table of food, sketching some of the beautiful outfits their guests were wearing, and chatting to more familiar friends. Thomas and Elgr and their son, Kitty and her two doting mates, Tristan and Salvi and Rosa . Though Tristan and Salvi still seemed unusually quiet, Tristan looking withdrawn and morose, Salvi glancing repeatedly toward Tristan’s bare neck. Until Rosa finally rolled her eyes toward them, and told them to stop ruining what was supposed to be a delightful Ka -esh party.

“Although,” she said to Daisy , narrowing her eyes across the room, “are they working ? Again ? At their own party?!”

Daisy followed Rosa’s gaze toward where Filak had barely moved from where they’d first come in, and was indeed deep in discussion with Krusa and John - Ka . Krusa even appeared to be taking notes, writing with his claw on a scroll of paper, while Filak and John - Ka nodded and gestured at each other, speaking back and forth in swift, intent Aelakesh .

“Gods, Ka -esh orcs are utterly dreadful at relaxing,” Rosa groaned, as she promptly began steering Daisy across the room. “ There’s only one way to handle this, sister.”

Daisy blinked, but followed along with rising bemusement, having long ago learned that Rosa’s plans were always worth being involved in. Although they often ended in trouble, too, and Daisy didn’t miss Rosa’s wicked smile at the sight of both Filak and John - Ka glancing up toward them at once, wearing similar wary expressions on their faces.

“Daisy and I are bored with all your ceaseless working, while we’re supposed to be having fun,” Rosa announced, without preamble. “ So we’ve decided to go off to the dyflissa together, to see if we can find some fun there instead.”

She didn’t wait for the answer, just steered Daisy back off toward the nearby curtained alcove that led to the new dyflissa . But Daisy could hear Filak’s low, displeased growl behind them, could feel his sharp gaze raking up and down her back. Growing stronger and stronger with every breath, because of course he was following them, guarding what was his.

Daisy didn’t dare look back as they wound their way down the corridor, but she could almost taste his rising disapproval, the anticipation simmering hot and restless in her belly. Especially once Rosa pressed the waiting eye in the wall, and thereby swung the dyflissa ’s heavy stone door open.

Even now, months after the dyflissa had been built, Daisy’s heart still skipped at the sight of it, at all the clever, thrilling ways the Ka -esh had devoted it to pleasure. Many of the room’s elements were similar to the dyflissa at Orc Mountain — the fur-covered benches and platforms, the convenient drainage, the chains and cuffs and whips lining the walls, even the menacing steel cage in the middle of the room. But the Nor -ka-esh had also added their own aspects, too — ropes and swings from the ceiling, hoods and cloaks and blindfolds, large jars of ink, bulbous stone implements jutting out from benches and walls. And there were even several tiny adjoining rooms carved into the stone walls, just big enough to fit two people inside.

Daisy had spent considerable time in those rooms, blindfolded and begging for release, but when she finally risked a glance behind her toward Filak , she knew she wouldn’t escape this that easily. No , not with his eyes blazing like that, his face flushed, his teeth bared. She’d publicly challenged him, walked away from him, and now she would pay.

But it was just what she’d wanted, and maybe what Filak had wanted, too, and Daisy quivered all over as he stalked forward, and caught her arm in a gentle but decisive grip. And then he marched her deeper into the room, straight past the various clusters of gasping writhing orcs, and toward that empty cage in the middle of the room.

“ Mín ,” he hissed toward her, as he yanked open the steel bars of the cage door, and thrust her inside. “ You wish to taunt me, and defy me? Then you stay where I put you, until you show me what is mine .”

With that, he slammed the door shut with a ringing clang, and then stepped back, and coolly raised his brows toward her. “ Ach , sólin mín ?” he drawled. “ Wish me to see?”

But it was again him asking, making sure, the way he still always did. And Daisy knew from experience that if she said no — or even slightly hesitated — he would instantly stop and comfort her, and seek to learn where he’d gone wrong, and how he could better anticipate it the next time.

But right now, Daisy wanted this, needed it with a sudden screaming desperation. Needed her mate’s full attention, his full possession, his demands and his pleasure and his praise. So she fervently, urgently nodded, holding his glinting demanding gaze through the bars. “ Ach , Filak ,” she gasped. “ I’ll show you.”

Filak’s brows arched higher, his arms folding over his chest, and he casually sank down to sprawl on a nearby bench, as if readying himself for a show. “ Ach , will you?” he drawled. “ When there is so much else here to tempt me?”

He waved his hand toward the room of gasping, grinding orcs — and a few women, too — and though he hadn’t actually spared them a glance, the jealousy kicked and surged in Daisy’s chest, choked in her breath. And she kept her eyes on Filak’s face, willing him to keep looking back at her, as she slowly slipped off her long black cloak, and let it fall to the floor behind her. And then she did the same with the silk top beneath, and — she took a bracing breath — her short black kilt, too.

It left her fully bared behind the bars, clothed only in Filak’s black marks, and she didn’t miss his eyes flickering as he took them in, raking from her face down to her ankles. She had so many now, so many of his prayers and longings all over her, and she slowly caressed her hands over them, lingered on a few of her favourites. The sun on her heart. The intricate script on her neck. The deep claw-marks on her hip, the thick black proclamations on her thighs, the patterns on her heavy, bulging breasts. And of course, the marks all over her round pregnant belly, with the vow embedded deepest of them all.

And yes, Filak was watching, unmoving, his lips slightly parted, and Daisy stepped closer toward him, letting her firm belly rub against the cool steel bars. “ You did this,” she told him, her voice hitching. “ You trapped me, and covered me with your marks, and filled me with your spawn. You made me yours .”

Filak just kept watching, gazing up at her through hooded eyes, and Daisy could feel other eyes on her too now, prickling into her skin. But she held her gaze on Filak , on the orc who’d done this, the orc who craved this. Who maybe would never stop craving this, his woman so thoroughly trapped for him, claimed by him, utterly unable to escape him — and still wanting him. Still wanting more.

“But I need more, myrkrie mitt ,” Daisy breathed, as she palmed at her full breast, slipped her fingers down between her thighs. “ I need you to give me more. Please , Filak .”

He didn’t move, but his gaze dropped downwards, glittering on her hand at her groin, so she eased her fingers in a little, let him watch her gasp as she scissored and stroked. And then she slowly drew her fingers out again, and let him see how wet they were, how that wetness looked when she trailed it up over her marked rounded belly. “ Please , myrkrie mitt ,” she gasped. “ I need you. I need more of you.”

Filak’s lashes fluttered, but he otherwise still didn’t move, so Daisy stroked her hand up higher, slipped her wet fingers between her lips. Sucking them slow and deliberate, tasting herself all over them, and desperately wishing they were something else, wishing they were him…

“Please, Filak ,” she begged. “ I’m yours. You took me and trapped me and claimed me as yours, you filled my empty belly with your seed and your heir. You did this, forever .”

Her breaths were heaving now, her eyes holding Filak’s , seeing those flickers of greed and triumph and guilt and relief. How this plucked at the deepest parts of him, at the still-present cravings they both knew he wasn’t supposed to have. The constant, all-consuming need to make her his, his, his .

But Daisy wanted it too, wanted the power and the danger and the thrill of it, the bright strokes of art in it. And strongest of all, she still just wanted him in it, wanted him to see himself as she saw him. As a fierce, stubborn, relentlessly possessive orc, who would never doubt or abandon or betray her, who would sooner crush himself to dust than hurt her.

“You made me yours,” Daisy breathed, holding his eyes. “ And that means it’s your job to take care of me. Your job to comfort me. Your job to give me what I need, and right now” — she took a shaky breath — “ I need you, myrkrie mitt .”

She held his eyes for one last, dangling moment, and then, before she could think better of it, she twisted around away from him, and bared herself to him. Showing him her wet hungry crease, empty and untouched, and then — in another burst of desperate daring — she bent double and shoved her hips backwards, toward the bars. Feeling the cold rods of steel pressing into the soft skin of her thighs and arse, as her slick swollen heat waited, opened, exposed toward him.

Of all the shocking things Daisy had done in this dyflissa , it was quite possibly the most audacious yet — naked and on display in the middle of the room, brazenly grinding her wet open body back into the bars behind her, blatantly begging to be filled. Begging for someone to walk up to the bars behind her, to start fucking the wet waiting hole on offer, and oh gods, anyone could do it, any one of these orcs could just walk over and slide himself inside…

But they wouldn’t, because it was Filak’s . She was Filak’s . She was Filak’s mate, his property, the carrier of his son, and it was his right to sit there, and look his fill of what was his. His right to take as long as he pleased. His right to let her stand there, on display, waiting and begging for his touch and his favour…

His right, finally, and his responsibility, to at last shift up to his feet, and loosen his kilt. His right to ease up behind her, just on the other side of the bars, his breath a faint whisper on the bare skin of her back…

And then she felt it. That familiar nudge through the bars, smooth and wet and rounded — and then the press. The long, slow slide of his hard body sinking inside, taking the offer, filling her empty waiting spaces with hot pulsing possession. Until he was buried all the way, plunged deep inside her, with only those cool steel rods between them.

“ Mín ,” he said, husky but clipped. “ Mín .”

He accompanied it with a gentle slap to her arse through the bars, and Daisy shuddered all over as she nodded, and pressed back harder. “ Ach , Filak ,” she gasped. “ Yours .”

His groan was low and hungry, his body swelling fuller inside her — and then he drew backwards, slow and excruciating, making sure Daisy felt every bit of the loss. Until he fell fully free of her, leaving her empty and quivering again, grinding back against the cold steel.

“Please, Filak ,” she moaned. “ Please , give me more, please!”

She didn’t care who was watching now, how many eyes had lifted to see the Verndari ’s naked, pregnant mate trapped and begging for him, shamelessly baring her most secret parts for him. While he again took his time looking, waiting, flaunting his power and his ownership.

But finally he took mercy on her, slowly carving his way inside again, burying himself to the base. Holding there for a few long breaths, while she writhed and moaned and thanked him — and then he slowly took it away again, until he fell free of her with a soft, wet squelch.

He was making a point, putting on a display, but Daisy gladly kept bearing it, begging for it, welcoming his slow, agonizing rhythm with rising desperate pleas. Because despite all the watching eyes, she knew, to the depths of her being, that this wasn’t about them. It wasn’t for any of them. No , as always, it was for her, and for Filak . It was both of them seeing each other, and meeting each other, and pushing each other even further. It was Filak saying, shouting, This is how much I want you, this is how deeply I need to own you . And in return, it was Daisy saying…

“Yes, Filak ,” she choked, shoving back harder against the bars, her body empty, dripping, fully on display. “ Yours . Give me more. More . All your seed, all your strength, all your stone and your seed and your sons. All you want, all you can give me. Please , Filak , please .”

His growl behind her was raw and ragged, and his hips suddenly snapped forward, his cock punching in sharp and shocking and deep. And then again and again and again, jolting and juddering Daisy all over, her gasps rising to shouts, the room whirling bright and quivering and alive —

The ecstasy surged and swayed with staggering strength, wracking Daisy again and again, wrenching her invaded body against Filak’s spasming, spewing cock buried inside her. Locking them together in perfect dizzying unity, even with those steel bars still between them — or were they, because suddenly Daisy couldn’t even feel them, and it was all him . All her warm, shuddering mate, closing her tightly in his safe powerful arms, gasping into her shoulder, while his throbbing body kept squeezing out inside her, giving her all he could, all he had.

When the room finally stopped spinning, Daisy found herself sagging back against Filak’s solid familiar strength, her skin hot and sweaty against his. And when her blinking, bewildered eyes glanced sideways, toward where the cage door had been, she saw that the bars had all been bent and broken, leaving a huge orc-shaped hole in the midst of them.

But Filak clearly didn’t care, his hands now stroking Daisy all over, his mouth kissing up her shoulder, lingering against the rapid pulsing in her throat. “ Gott ?” he murmured. “ Is aught amiss? Pain , or cramps, or faintness?”

He was always extra careful these days, due to the pregnancy, and Daisy shook her head, even as her still-spasming body sank back heavier into his solid weight. “ All good,” she murmured back. “ Takk fyrir, myrkrie mitt .”

There was a low breathless catch in Filak’s throat, and with a jerky shift of his hands, he swiped for Daisy’s clothes, and then swept her up into his arms. Not seeming to even notice the mess, streaming down from her thighs, and instead just carrying her off toward the door. And she briefly caught sight of Rosa , naked and gasping beneath John - Ka’s clawed hands, and still managing to flash Daisy a jaunty, satisfied little smile.

But then it was only the dark familiar corridors, the faint crunch of stone as Filak opened the door to their bedroom. And then Daisy was sinking down into the sweet softness of their bed, while Filak settled heavy and warm beside her, stroking a damp rag at her sweaty, sticky skin.

“ Gott, sólin mín ,” he murmured into her hair, his voice catching. “ You are so kind. So brave, so beautiful. So good to me.”

Daisy attempted to wave it away, but Filak caught her tingling hand in his, brought it to his lips. “ So good, sólin mín ,” he insisted, hoarse. “ To see me, and welcome all this. To grant me all this.”

He’d set the rag aside, his hand now stroking slow and reverent over Daisy’s rounded belly. Over their son. Saying , again, how much he’d wanted this pregnancy with her. And how, maybe, it was part of the possession, too, even stronger than the ink and the kraga . Her body forever changing for him, forever marked by him, bearing him the son he’d put inside her. A kind of ownership that nothing else would ever match, not even a cage, or a dungeon in the dark.

“Someday, mayhap, you will yet regret this,” he murmured now, quieter — and when she glanced up to his eyes, they were sober, maybe even sad. “ Mayhap you will yet see the danger in the darkness, and run from me. Forsake me.”

Forsake me . Daisy’s throat convulsed, and in a jerky flailing movement, she shoved Filak over onto his back, and caught both his wrists in her hands. Pinning them to the bed above his head, the way he so often did to her. And he didn’t even fight it, just gazed up at her beneath his lashes, his eyes shadowed and dark.

“ Nei , Filak ,” Daisy said, firm and decisive. “ No . I won’t. Because ” — she took a breath — “ I do see you. I saw you from that first night we met. And I wanted it. I wanted it so damned much. All of it.”

The emotion wavered in her voice, and she held his eyes, flexed her hands against his wrists. “ You helped me learn how to be… here ,” she said, with a nod toward the room around them. “ How to face what was real, what was in front of me. But you also” — her exhale shuddered out — “you also gave me the dream, and you made it — safe. A home.”

It sounded like such a paltry word, but Daisy meant it, felt it so much it ached. “ I want to be safe,” she whispered. “ I want to be guarded, and treasured, and looked after. I — I want to be able to focus on art, and on creating, without needing to think about all the tiresome little details. I like you managing things, and taking care of me.”

It was something she’d only slowly realized these past months, something else she hadn’t fully seen about her relationship with Lew . Lew had handled everything, in life and in finances and in bed, and if Daisy was honest with herself, it had been part of why she’d stayed so long, and tolerated so much. And since that first night she’d met Filak , he had fulfilled that same role, far more than she’d originally noticed. He’d arranged all those baskets of food, full of treats he’d thought she would like. He’d given her clothes and furs and jewels and art supplies. He’d practiced Aelakesh with her. He’d made sure she’d slept, and stayed with her at nights, even though she now knew he needed far less sleep than she did. And throughout it all, he’d constantly supported her art, encouraged her in it, and helped her make it.

And in the bedroom, in all those heady games they played, he’d helped her, too. Recreating that night he’d kidnapped her, replaying all those parts of it again and again, until there wasn’t even a trickle of fear left behind. And now, he just kept reminding her, proving it to her, showing her again and again. She was safe, safe, always safe, no matter how dark or dangerous it was. He was hers, he was here, and he always, always would be. Home .

“I want it, Filak ,” Daisy said again, holding his eyes. “ I want you. I want you to keep me, and own me, and take care of me. I want you to do whatever the hell you want with me.”

Filak’s lashes fluttered, his breath shuddering out in something that might have been hunger, or relief. And his body shuddered beneath her, too, his cock swelling and bobbing between her legs. Saying what he wanted from her, so Daisy shifted herself forward until she could catch its rounded head, ease it up slow and thrilling inside. “ I want all of it, Filak ,” she whispered. “ I want all of you.”

His hips rocked up to meet hers, his eyes shifting, flickering, shadows and light and uncertainty. “ Even if I might someday mark you all over?” he murmured back. “ Or shave your hair to match me? Or dress you only in stone, or fuck you with floor in dyflissa ? Embed my jewels in your skin?”

Daisy considered all that, her head tilting, as one of Filak’s hands slipped out of her grip, slid down to stroke against her rounded belly. “ Or ,” he continued, quieter, “fill you with another son, and another? Fuck you full of my brood, until you can no more bear them?”

He surely meant to frighten her, to scare her away — but he hadn’t counted on the depths of Daisy’s curiosity, or maybe her sheer and utter depravity. Because she was still considering all of those things he’d said, weighing each one, her body convulsively spasming against his throbbing strength inside her.

“How would that work with the floor, exactly?” she asked, chewing her lip. “ Would I be inside the floor? Or would you just use the whole slab to —”

“ Daisy ,” Filak said, with a smile that was both fond and exasperated, his hand rising to cup at her cheek. “ You ought to say nei . Ought to be shocked and afraid. Ought to run screaming from me.”

But his words were betrayed by the softness in his voice, the affection and concern in his eyes, the tenderness in his touch. All of it such a clear, powerful demonstration of why Daisy wouldn’t run. Why she wasn’t afraid. Because she knew, no matter what, that he would always ask, and she could always say no. He’d sworn to honour her, and care for her, and he’d shown it, again and again and again.

She saw her mate. She knew .

“You won’t hurt me, myrkrie mitt ,” she told him, the certainty thudding through her voice. “ You won’t.”

Filak’s eyes kept shifting on hers, now glimmering with warmth and light and relief, because even he couldn’t deny it. And Daisy bent down and kissed him, tasted him, met his twining tongue with hers. Silently speaking to him, showing him, in that language all their own. Saying , so clear and certain, I trust you. I know you. Mine .

“And whatever we end up doing,” she added, as she drew away, “it’ll be art worth making, don’t you think?”

And oh, the way he smiled at her, so soft, so fond, showing all his sharp teeth. Her sweet, devoted, dangerous mate, with all his contrasts and contradictions, all his light and darkness and great, dazzling beauty. Hers .

“Ach, sólin mín ,” he whispered back. “ It shall be art well worth making.”

* * *

THE END

* * *

Thank you so much for reading!