His brow furrows in concern. "Of me?"
"Of disappointing you. Of not being what you need." The words tumble out, carrying fears I didn't know I had. "You're this force of nature. You're strong and capable and you know exactly who you are. And I'm just… I came up here because I couldn't make my regular life work. Because I keep choosing the wrong people and the wrong paths and—"
He kisses me, stopping the spiral of self-doubt. When he pulls back, his eyes are fierce.
"You think I'm not scared?" His voice is rough. "You think I haven't spent the last day terrified that you'll realize what you've bound yourself to and want to run? I'm an orc, Lila. I live in isolation on a mountain. I can't give you cities or fancy restaurants or beautiful clothes or any of the things human women are supposed to want."
"I don't want those things. I just want you."
"Maybe not now. But in a year? Five years? When the novelty wears off and you remember what you left behind?"
I cup his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. "I left behind loneliness. Deadlines that meant nothing. Stories about love I'd given up on finding for myself. I didn't leave behind anything I want to go back to. And now I have you.”
"Now you have me," he echoes, and it feels like a vow. He stands, pulling me up with him. "Come. There's something I want to show you."
He leads me to the far side of the cabin, to a wooden chest I hadn't paid attention to before. When he opens it, I see furs and fabric, but also…
"Books?" I drop to my knees beside the chest, pulling out a leather-bound volume. "You have books?"
"Some." He sounds almost embarrassed. “I will find more for you.”
I open the book carefully. It's a collection of folk tales, the pages yellowed with age. "Have you read all of these?"
"Most. Some multiple times." He crouches beside me. "I thought you may like them. But I also have something else for you.” He digs deeper in the chest, pulls out a wrapped bundle. When he unfolds the cloth, I see linen paper and pencils. "It's not much, but I know you’re a writer. I thought you might like it.”
"It's perfect." I throw my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over. "You're perfect."
He catches me, steadying us both, and his laugh rumbles through his chest. "I'm far from perfect, little human."
"You're perfect for me."
We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped around each other on the floor of his cabin, and I feel the bond pulse warm and certain between us.
This is real. This is happening. And against all odds, I’m finally exactly where I'm supposed to be.
Epilogue
Lila
LateSPRING–ONEYEAR LATER
The mountain smells different in spring.
Gone is the sharp edge of snow and smoke; now it's all pine sap and thawing earth and the sweet green scent of new life. The meadow behind our cabin glows gold in the sunlight, dotted with tiny wildflowers daring the mountain to freeze them again.
I tug at the edge of the blanket, smoothing it over a patch of grass. "If you tell me this corner is crooked one more time, Thane, I'm throwing a berry pie at you."
He grunts, pretending to think about it. "You have terrible aim, so it would be a complete waste of a pie.”
I look up at him—still impossible, stillmine—and laugh. "You're incorrigible."
He leans down, brushing his tusks against my cheek in a way that still melts my bones. "You like me that way."
I really do.
Laughter drifts from down the slope. Kroy and Kayla appear first, Kroy balancing a barrel of cider on one shoulder while Kayla scolds him about sloshing. Behind them, Drak and Jasmine walk hand in hand, stopping every few steps so she can photograph flowers. Varn and Mazie come next, arms full of baskets, and last is Garruk—alone, of course—carrying an entire haunch of roasted venison that he clearly just wrestled off a spit.
"Look at this," I say, shading my eyes. "An entire army of orcs and wives."
