Page 17

EPILOGUE

Jorak

The spring rains made traveling more difficult than usual, but ‘twas necessary.

“Ye dinnae mind leaving yer garden for a few days?” I asked the female on my lap.

Verna snuggled closer, pulling my leather cloak tighter around us both.

“Nay, of course not! Although I am certain the rabbits will have found my seedlings by the time we return.”

“Then I’ll hunt them for ye and ye can roast them the way I like.”

“Oh good. They eat my greens, and we eat them.” She poked my stomach. “Circle of life, and all that.”

My lips twitched and I tightened my hold on my Mate as the horse picked its way across the valley toward the stones.

“Ye could have stayed home, ye ken.”

Verna’s head popped up to glare at me. “And leave you to visit our byre-cottage alone? Nonsense. I miss the place.”

Aye, ‘twas a real smile tugging on my lips now.

“It wouldnae be the same without ye.”

“Of course not,” she sniffed, burrowing back down out of the rain. “’Twould be lonely and dull.”

“And quiet. And orderly,” I teased.

She poked me again, harder this time.

“Hurry along, please. I am half-frozen in here.”

Obligingly, I nudged the horse into a trot and we were soon at the byre.

Verna tumbled from my lap and hurried to open the large door, then as I rode through, left me to deal with the horse. I appreciated her willingness to start a fire in the cold hearth, so I took my time seeing to the animal and arranging our supplies.

Once I joined my Mate in the byre-cottage, the whole place was warm and cozy, and she had water boiling. She was also half-naked.

“So desperate, were ye?” I asked, cocking a brow at her as I laid the bags and bundles on the table.

“I am soaked through and practically frozen.”

“Och, we cannae have that.”

After hanging my cloak, I rounded the table and stepped up behind her, wrapping my arm around her chest and pulling her chemise-clad back against my chest.

“I’ll have to warm ye.”

“Aye, ‘tis your duty as my husband,” she announced primly, a smile in her tone.

I rested my chin atop her head as she sorted through the bundles.

“Oh good, I was hoping someone would send dried meat.” She peered at the packaging. “Look, ‘tis from Amma!” When she held up the little note, I could see her beaming smile. “How special. And the fruit is from Isadora!”

“They are both good students.”

“Nay…” Verna turned in my hold and wrapped her arms around my middle, pressing her damp chest to my stomach. “Ye are a good teacher.”

I snorted softly. “I can just about manage the adults. I dinnae ken how ye can stand having all the kitlings crowding around ye…”

When she laughed, I had to smile.

In the months since I’d returned to the clan, my Mate and I had found our new places. Each evening I taught her more and more—not just how to read, but how to form letters, how to think about sentences and stories. And during the day, we shared that knowledge with the clan: me teaching the adults who wanted to learn—and who were calm and biddable, for fook’s sake—and Verna the kitlings.

It turned out that she had quite a lot to teach them, whether ‘twas woodlore or letters, and she found such joy in being surrounded by them. I knew she was perfect for this role.

And once a month, when Bloodfire Village became too much for me, we’d retreat here to the byre-cottage by the stones. Alone for a few days, minus any travelers back and forth, we could find peace in stillness.

I know Verna missed her friends—and her garden, and the kitlings—during these days, but I was also grateful she chose to come with me. Mayhap, one day, I would turn the duty of Bloodfire Keeper over to another…but not yet.

For now, I enjoyed the chance to return to the quiet, well-ordered peace I’d built for myself for seven years. Verna had taught me ‘twas not something I could maintain forever, and that I needed people—my clan, my family, my Mate—around me. But ‘twas nice to escape sometimes.

Besides, with Verna here with me…

She hummed. “Is that my wee friend, coming out to say hello?”

I shifted so my hardening cock wasn’t so obvious.

“I cannae help it,” I grumbled. “Ye’re all wet and warm and cuddly. Rubbing up against me like this. And what do ye mean, wee ?”

“Och, I was not complaining .” Smirking, Verna pulled away from me. “But it cannot be comfortable for you, standing there in wet wool.”

To my surprise, she began to unbuckle my belt.

“Have I mentioned how cold ‘tis?”

This time I allowed my grin to show. “I believe ye have, aye.”

I kicked off my boots as she dropped my belt to the floor, the clatter of my sword barely registering over the way my blood pounded in my ears with need for her.

“I would be a puir Mate if I allowed my wife to freeze to death.”

“Aye,” she murmured, cheeks flushed, eyes already hazy with desire, as she pulled her chemise over her head and tossed it over the stool to dry. “So very cold.”

And then I gathered her—nude and wriggling and already aroused—against me, and discovered she was warm enough.

“Ye dinnae feel cold.”

Verna linked her arms around my neck and lifted her mouth toward mine. “Are you certain? You should check again.”

“Gladly,” I growled, pointing us toward the bed.

‘Twas the last coherent thing either of us said for a while.

Not ready to be done with the Bloodfire Orcs yet? Have you read the prequel, The Orc’s Fated Maiden ? It’s the story of how Mkaalad found Avaleen, and features the Hurt/Comfort trope, as well as Fated Mates and lots of humor. You can read it totally for free by clicking here !