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CHAPTER TWELVE

Verna

I was beginning to think Jorak was avoiding me. I couldn’t lose the nagging suspicion that he hadn’t slept beside me, and he was gone when I woke. That, added to the general surliness since we’d arrived in the village, told me he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

Well? What do you expect? He has made it clear he prefers the solitude of his byre-cottage .

And despite all the little improvements I’d made to this home—the sweet-smelling herbs, the cheerful pillows Isadora had helped me sew, the daily fresh bread now that I had access to a real oven—he still wanted to leave. It wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t enough.

Snow had fallen during the night, so I bundled up in my red cloak—and couldn’t help but remember how Jorak had called it ridiculous —to sweep the front walk. Keeping busy was the key, although even the activity couldn’t distract my mind.

I was likely frowning when I heard Avaleen calling my name.

“My goodness, Verna, you look as if you are trying to melt the snow with your glare!”

The dark-haired woman was waddling toward me, her arms full of fabric, a big grin on her face.

I had to smile ruefully. “Just thinking. Should you be out and about without Mkaalad?” I now knew she was expected to give birth around Midwinter, and I couldn’t help but worry for her. “What if you fell?”

“You sound just like my Mate.” She rolled her eyes and headed for the door. “It is a handful of steps—a footful?—from my home to yours. And I promised I would sit at your table as you tried these on. Come along.”

I followed in bemusement. “Try them on?”

When Avaleen dropped her bundle on the bed in triumph, I gasped in delight. “Avaleen, these are lovely!” I scooped up a simple wool dress dyed a pale purple. “Whose are they?”

“They are yours now.” My new friend lowered herself into a chair with a little grunt as I turned in astonishment. “Bloodfire Village is used to human women arriving with little to their name, so we share things. Many of those were donated to me when Mkaalad brought me for healing. I have outgrown them.”

Winking, she hefted her breasts to show me exactly what she meant.

“So, I am passing them on.”

I could only shake my head in amazement.

“Avaleen, I cannot accept?—”

She tsked and flicked her fingers dismissively.

“Everyone has shared what they can. Myra brought all of our gowns and personal things when she crossed over, and we have all made more since we have been here. Try on the lavender, ‘twas dyed to match the heather.”

I clutched the gown to my chest, overwhelmed by the generosity. “I…I do not know…”

“Oh, go do it.” She gestured toward the screen and, grinning, I hurried to follow her order.

When was the last time I had a new dress? And there was a fine linen chemise included, much nicer than my stained, mended one. And new stockings!

When I emerged from the screen, I felt like a new person.

Avaleen, who was slumped in her chair, rubbing her stomach, brightened. “Oh, you look lovely! Take down your braid, let us see you!”

I obliged, running my fingers through my curls. Then, at her urging, I spun about with a little laugh.

“Just stunning,” she announced. “The embroidery at the neckline draws the eyes. You must tell me what the Keeper thinks.”

Her wink was positively lewd, which should have looked odd coming from such a pregnant female, but instead made my heart sink.

She must have noticed. “Oh, dear. What is it? Your Mate does not treat you correctly?”

“Jorak is not my Mate,” I mumbled, bending to sort through the clothing on the bed. “And he treats me perfectly.”

“Hmm. Not perfectly enough, if you do not believe you are his Mate.”

When I turned a sharp glare over my shoulder, Avaleen shrugged. “We can all see it.” She pressed her palm to the middle of her chest, her expression softening. “Surely you can sense something…here?”

I paused, against my better judgement, focusing on what was going on inside my chest as she continued.

“To orcs, Mating is…part of who they are. Who they are . There’s a part of them which recognizes their Mate and reacts. Mkaalad told me ‘tis like…a knowing . They just know whom they belong with, who will be their partner for the rest of their life.”

So like…a marriage? I glanced over at her bleakly.

“I am no wife.”

But Avaleen shook her head. “’Tis no’ so simple. Marriage vows can be broken, or ignored, or put aside. A Mating bond…cannot. Once an orc male recognizes his Mate, he will not have eyes for another female for the rest of his life, even if his Mate rejects him.”

Oh .

That did sound rather different from marriage.

“Verna,” she asked softly, “do you love him?”

Suddenly overwhelmed, I crushed what I was holding—apparently a light linen robe of some sort—against my stomach and dropped to the mattress with an oof , staring off into the middle distance.

“Verna?” my new friend prompted softly.

“I do,” I whispered. “I should not. The last years have taught me the folly of allowing my heart to be involved, but Jorak…he is so kind. Gruff, aye, but sweet. And he is the only male who…”

I trailed off, certain my blush was warring with the tears in my eyes. Avaleen made a noise of understanding.

“See?” She murmured. “He is your Mate.”

Snorting, I tried to wipe my eyes. “No matter how much I might want it to be true, it cannot be.” I couldn’t stay here in his world. “He has made it clear he plans to leave me here in the village when he returns to his home.”

Avaleen hummed as she glanced about. “He does not like it here?”

“He thinks he has to care for the veil as some sort of—of penance. And he does not want me in his space.” He’d been clear enough of that when he’d saved me.

“What do you think? If he returned to the stones, would you be content to stay here in the village?”

I stared at my friend, my eyes aching from unshed tears.

“I…do not know. I like it here.” Nay, I loved it here. I loved how welcoming and caring everyone was. But the thought of losing Jorak…

The tears began to seep. “But I have to leave.”

I had to face Alred so he wouldn’t find Nan.

Avaleen, however, assumed I meant to follow Jorak, and nodded in understanding.

“You cannot allow him to abandon you here. If you want to be with him, you will have to convince him to either stay with you, or take you with him.”

I hurried to wipe at my eyes and dropped the robe back onto the bed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” She patted the table across from her, inviting me to conspire with her. “You need a plan.”

My eyes went wide. “A plan to do what?”

Her wink was leisurely, teasing, then she nodded to the robe I’d just dropped.

“Why, to seduce your Mate, of course.”

Jorak

I’d tried to stay away, I really had. But stalking through the village, scowling at neighbors, sparring with the warriors, even prowling the nearby woods…none of it was helping.

Something drew me back to the little cottage where I’d once lived. The cottage I knew now must belong to Verna. Her scent covered everything. Her touches were throughout.

Being there with her and unable to claim her was simultaneously torture and bliss.

I needed her. I needed her to be mine. Even if she chose to stay here…

Swallowing down my frustration, I threw open the door.

I wasn’t sure what I expected, but…’twasn’t this.

There was a basin by the hearth, the steam rising from it telling me ‘twas for bathing. Another clue was the fact that Verna stood, one leg on the chair, dragging a soapy rag up her thigh.

Torvor’s Hammer , the sight of all that creamy skin… I groaned aloud as I kicked the door closed behind me and reached for the clasp of my cloak.

Verna, meanwhile, didn’t act surprised or irritated. Nay, she straightened and twitched the robe she wore—where did she get linen so sheer it molded to her skin?—so it revealed even more. She dragged the rag up her leg once more then tossed it carelessly into the basin—without moving her gaze from mine.

“Hello, Jorak.” Her voice was low, enticing.

Mayhap I made a noise as I stumbled toward her, but I had no way of knowing. I managed to stop myself from reaching for her when I was mere inches from her, my tongue aching for her taste, my claws digging into my palm to hold myself in check.

“What are ye doing?” I rasped idiotically.

Her grin was wicked. “Tempting you.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. She’d offered her body once before, and I’d told her she didn’t need to do that.

“Verna…”

She shifted her hips then, opening to me so her naked knee brushed against my thigh…and the scent of her arousal—the scent of her wet cunny—slammed into me. This wasn’t gentle and subtle. She wanted me .

With a groan, I stopped fighting. I reached up and wrapped her hair around my fist, tipping her head back so she stared up at me as I shifted closer. My cock pressed against her, but she would know what that meant.

“Ye want this?” I growled harshly. “Ye want my touch? My mouth on ye?”

I knew I was being too rough, and I half-hoped I would scare her off. But my Verna was bold and brave.

She held my gaze and lifted her arms to drape them around my neck.

“Nay, Jorak. I want ye .”

Her words shook me to my core. Even my Kteer stuttered in confusion, and in trying to understand, I repeated what I believed.

“Ye—ye just want me to make ye come.”

“I know you will,” she whispered. “You have already shown me how magnificent your touch, your tongue is. But now…” She stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips to mine.

I don’t know what she was trying to say, but I don’t know if it mattered then. Instinct took over and I crushed her to me, plundering her mouth the way I yearned to claim her body.

Then she whimpered and slid her thigh along mine, and I swear I could taste her arousal on my tongue. On her tongue.

I wanted this. I needed this. My Kteer howled with victory as I pulled her lip between my teeth. That, and the little whimper she gave, was my last chance.

Desperate, I ripped myself away, breathing too hard, and crushed her head against my chest. I focused on the still-steaming water in the basin, trying to regain control.

Of myself. Of my life. Of aught.

“Jorak,” she murmured, her lips caressing my chest, and I shuddered.

She was skilled.

“By Palton’s Spear, ye tempt me, lass,” I ground out, hating the confession. “Ye make me…”

She wriggled her hips, capturing my hardness against her stomach, making me think of how warm and delicious her cunny would be.

“I can make you feel good.”

Aye, that was the problem. I closed my eyes on a groan.

“I am no’ one of yer customers .” I spat out the word, angry at myself and the males in her past who should have protected her. “I’ll no’ be pitied, nor obligated to. Ye dinnae have to accept my touch just because?—”

When she pushed away from me I snapped my teeth closed on the bitter words and glanced down to see her fierce glare.

“How dare you think I am doing this just because—” Sputtering, she shook her head. “Why do you think I pity you? You said that afore, when you made me feel so good. You said I deserved that pleasure, as if you pitied me !”

The scent of her anger mixed with her arousal.

“I dinnae pity ye, lass. I’m enraged on yer behalf, angry I couldnae protect ye from the pain in yer past, but?—”

“See?” Scowling, she pulled even further away and smacked my chest as I released her hair. “ See ? You say the most perfect things, and yet you think I would pity you? Why would I pity you? You take care of me, you protect me?—”

Frustrated at this litany, I waved the stump of my right arm in her face.

“Because I’m half a man, Verna!”

Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped.

Unable to help myself, I bellowed, “The last time I lost control, this happened! I allowed myself— Fook .” I turned away and dragged my hand through my hair as I stalked to the opposite side of the cottage, back, and away again, trying to calm my erection and my Kteer .

“Verna, I cannae lose control again. The last time I did, the last time I gave in to my primitive side, I nearly died, and I lost my future.”

I heard her scoff. “You did not. You healed, and you found a new role helping your clan.”

“I have a carefully ordered life. Allowing ye into it…” I tugged my hair, growling, frustrated, angry at myself. “Naught has been the same since that morning I found ye in the snow,” I muttered. “I dinnae like to lose control.”

“I came into your life and disrupted your order.”

At her neutral tone, I cautiously turned to see her studying me, her hands on her hips.

“Aye,” I agreed.

“But you still allowed me to stay.”

I took a deep breath and held it, feeling on the edge of a precipice. “How could I no’?” I confessed simply. “Ye were…”

“Lost. Helpless. Too talkative.” She raised a brow, daring me to contradict her. “Chaotic. Full of questions. In your space.”

“Everything,” I whispered, eying the way those magnificent curls fell around her shoulders. “Ye were everything.” My everything .

Her spring-green eyes softened. “And you took care of me. Jorak, I need you to know that sometime in the last days we have spent together, I have fallen in love with you.”

In love with you . I closed my eyes on a helpless groan. In love with you.

My Mate was in love with me, and I should be crowing in victory…but I didn’t know where I belonged. Didn’t know what my future could be.

“Jorak.” Her tone was sharp, and when I looked at her, she nodded once then pointed. “Sit in that chair.”

She was bold and brave, and, aye, I loved her. She was my everything.

I moved to sit in the chair.

“Good.” Verna turned the chair her foot had rested on earlier so it faced me. Then she slowly sank into it, holding my gaze.

Now we sat, facing each other, without the table between us. She spread her thighs slightly, so the scent of her arousal grew. What had caused it?

“Do you know what I was doing earlier?” she murmured, lifting her hands to rest on the top of her tits. “When I was washing? I was thinking of you.”

She dragged her hands under those magnificent breasts, lifting them. I could see the pebbling of the nipples through the robe, which gaped open, revealing too much of her cleavage.

“I was thinking of how you touched me so gently. How you drove me mad.”

Her hands slid down her sides and my mouth went dry as my gaze followed the sensual motion. When she reached her thighs, she slid her hands between them, spreading them, and I suspected I stopped breathing.

“I was thinking of your tongue on me, Jorak. The pleasure you brought me…” She used her palms to slide the robe along her thighs, pushing it aside…until it fell behind her. She sat, legs spread, her wet cunny on display as she dragged her fingers closer to her core.

“When you touched me here .”

My claws dug into my palm as I tried to hold myself in check. The scent of her arousal, the sight of her touching herself…I was half-mad already.

“Do you remember, Jorak?” she murmured, dragging her finger along her wetness. “No man had ever touched me like that. Tasted me. You were my first.”

Such simple words, but they were an arrow to my heart. The flash of the blade that removed my arm. The cut, the pain, the exquisite joy , the shock?—

I lurched from the chair, falling to my knees in front of her, my fingers dimpling her thigh as I tried to remember to breathe.

You were my first .

Her lips curled as she cupped one of my cheeks. “How could you ever think I pitied you, Jorak? I love you.”

“Please,” I rasped, not certain what I was begging for. “Verna, I’m losing control. If ye dinnae want me to claim ye?—”

Her other hand joined the first, smelling sweetly of her cunny. She pulled me to her.

“I want to make you lose control. I am yours,” Verna whispered against my lips.

And I fell.