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Oh God, he was going to make me spell it out? I felt myself flushing, but I made myself hold his gaze.

“When you—when we…” I swallowed. “You do not spill your seed inside me. Something so simple, but it tells me how you really feel about me.”

I watched his expression ease from anger to confusion, then understanding. He snapped a harsh bark of laughter as he turned to stalk to the edge of the cliff.

“And why do ye think that is, love?” Back again, still not looking at me. “Ye’re brilliant, and I’m certain if ye just think about it”—back to the cliff—“Ye’ll realize why I take such care to spill outside yer body.”

My heart was beating impossibly fast, pounding against my ribcage so loudly I was certain he could hear it.

“Nay!” I wailed. “I…”

Forcing my lips closed, I squeezed my eyes shut and considered his words. What did I know about orcs, about us , which would explain his decision? He’d said he’d do nothing I was uncomfortable with…

“You…” I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. “You have not asked if I was comfortable with you spilling inside me.” ‘Twas the only explanation. “You did not want to make an assumption without asking me?”

He laughed again, from where he stood at the top of the cliff, his hands on his hips, his breath misting the morning air.

‘Twas not nice laughter.

There was pain there .

“Am I wrong?” I pressed, daring him to give me another answer.

“Aye, pet, ye’re wrong. Spilling inside ye wouldnae make ye as uncomfortable as becoming pregnant and bearing my kitling might. I couldnae risk such a thing without discussing with ye first.”

But…

That made no sense.

I shook my head, the motion helping to solidify my denial, as my fingers tightened around my mother’s knife handle, the one he’d made for me.

“That does not… Orcs and humans cannot create a bairn.”

He glanced away, his voice dull.

“Mated pairs can.”

“Aye, of course.” I’d just helped deliver my sister’s bairn, after all. “But you and I are not…”

I trailed off when Vartok swung the full intensity of his green gaze my way.

And I knew.

I knew.

In that moment, as I ceased breathing, as my heart stuttered, as my very being shook…I knew.

The knife fell from my fingers as he stalked toward me.

“I kenned ye the first moment ye stepped into the village, Myra. My soul recognized yers. I took one look at ye—all proud and regal, sitting on that horse, surrounded by the possessions ye’d taken the time to rescue—because of course ye planned yer escape!—and…”

He stopped in front of me, close enough I had to tip my head back to hold his gaze.

“And I kenned ye. Ye are my Mate.”

I couldn’t deny it.

I could feel it.

But…

“You never…” I swallowed. “ Why ?”

“Because ye didnae want me. Ye treated me with disdain.”

“Because you were a flirt! A charmer!”

“And ye were icy to me. ‘Twas clear ye wanted naught to do with me.”

Oh God, this was because of the tight control I’d kept on my feelings? The way I hadn’t allowed anything to show since I was so new to the village?

“I…I treated everyone that way.”

Vartok’s hand rose to my temple, where he brushed a curl away from my skin. “I ken that now.”

“All I knew was that you did not flirt with me the way you did other women. You did not try to charm me.”

One corner of his lips curled ruefully around his tusks.

“I was trying to do what I thought ye wanted. Leave ye alone. No’ try to flatter ye. Once I got to ken ye better, I realized ‘twas just yer nature to hide yer true feelings. Ye’re no’ icy, Myra. Just reserved.”

“But once I came to your home…”

His hand snaked around the back of my neck, cupping me there, holding me in place.

“I thought the gods had granted me my dream.”

“I thought…I was just another female to ye.”

His fingers tightened. “ Never .”

I stared up at him, wide-eyed, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying.

“You kissed me,” I whispered.

“I couldnae help myself,” he whispered back. “Ye are my Mate.”

“Mate,” I repeated, as if saying it again would make it easier to believe. “I am your Mate.”

“I ken I’m no’ who ye would choose, Myra?—”

Unable to wait any longer, I surged up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his lips to mine.

Mate .

When I finally pulled away—more because of gravity than anything else, let’s be honest—his glowing eyes stared down at me, apprehension in them.

I had to set his mind at ease.

“I love you, Vartok.”

To my surprise, his expression shuttered.

“Ye dinnae have to lie?— ”

“I have loved you since before wee Ella’s birth, I think. I had not intended to fall in love with my teacher, but I was heart-broken when I realized you were treating me the way you had treated your other lovers?—”

“Nay.”

His voice cracked and he bent down to press his forehead against mine.

“Nay, Myra. Ye are…ye have always been special. I feel ye…” Without lifting his head, he blew out and breath and slid his hand up my arm to wrap his fingers around my wrist and lift my hand. He pressed my palm to his chest so I could feel his heartbeat.

“ Here .”

And I realized ‘twas the truth.

“A knowing,” I breathed.

“Aye.” He straightened. “’Tis what we are taught. When we find our Mates…there is a kenning . We would ken one another, the way I kenned ye the moment I saw ye.”

“I feel it too,” I breathed, as I realized my heart was beating in time with his. “This draw to you. This understanding. If I am your Mate, then you are mine, aye?”

Something like agony flickered across his expression and his gaze dropped to my mouth.

“Dinnae say it just because ye think ‘tis what I want to hear, dkaar . I can wait until ye’re ready to accept the Mating Bond. Or if ye dinnae, if ye cannae , then I’ll respect yer decision.”

“And what?” My fingers curled around the plaid that covered his heart. “And we’ll live in Bloodfire Village and just ignore each other?”

His eyes fluttered closed.

“I’ll leave,” he rasped. “I wasnae made to be chief. I’ll hunt down my brother…”

He would leave his home rather than force me to accept a Mating Bond I did not feel? A slow smile crossed my face as I tugged at him.

“Lucky for you,” I whispered, “you do not have to do that.”

He opened his eyes, a gentle sort of hope there.

“What do ye mean, love?”

“Aye, I love you, Vartok. I love your honor, your gentleness. I love how you understand me and understand what I need. I love how you give me what I need before I even understand it myself. I love how you see me . I love you…” I took a deep breath. “And I accept you as my Mate.”

His hand went to my hips, squeezing.

“Myra…” he sounded strangled. “I…”

“For the longest time, I thought you treated me differently because you didn’t like me. Because you were cruel or thought me lesser somehow.”

“Never,” he choked.

“But I understand now.” My hand rose to his cheek. “If you thought my reaction to you was because I didn’t like you… ”

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’ve always…to me, ye have always been magnificent. I was just trying to give ye what I thought ye wanted.”

My smile grew. “I love you, Mate.”

His eyes widened at the word, and with a growl, he pulled me to him, to claim my lips.

Claim me.

My soul sang with joy—joy I couldn’t fully understand or comprehend—as I kissed him back.

‘Twas much later when we finally pulled apart, breathing heavily. He pressed my cheek to his chest, and I listened to his heart beating in my ear.

“I love ye,” he murmured, sounding more than a little awe-struck. “Mate.”

“Mate,” I agreed, and my own heartbeat leapt in time with his. The realization made me smile again. We were connected.

And we would be.

Forever.

“I am not certain I am ready for a bairn yet, though,” I admitted. Especially after helping my sister through her difficult labor.

His hold on me tightened. “Then I will continue to spill outside of yer body, love.”

“Until I can consult with Nan. There are teas a female can drink to thwart an orc male’s seed if she does not wish to be fertile.”

His lips brushed across the top of my head.

“I want ye, Myra.”

Grinning, I wriggled against the hardness poking my stomach.

“Aye, I know.”

“But I will wait until we’re back home—in our own bed—to celebrate this joining. Once the Mating Heat begins, ‘tis difficult to stop, until we’re both satisfied.”

I sighed happily, my arms tightening around him.

“I do not think I will ever be satisfied of you, Mate. You have taught me so many delicious things.”

“If ye call me that again,” he growled, “we’re no’ going to make it home.”

I giggled, loving that he granted me so much power. “Mate, Mate, Mate.”

But Vartok groaned and set me away from him.

“We have roots to dig, Myra. The stubborn soil around here is strong enough to cure any desire I might have.”

Pretending to pout, I sighed, “Damnation. Well, I suppose I will just have to wait a few days afore you take me to the hot springs and feast upon my cunny.”

This time Vartok’s groan was loud enough to be heard on Islay as he turned away, and I began to laugh.

‘Twas good to tease him for a change.

Vartok.

My Mate.