I ponder her words. “You think my kind are better than humans?”
"You already saved me once,” she says softly.
I look at her hands, small against the pelt. There’s a tremor in her fingers. She's fragile. Breakable. And yet she doesn't look away—not from the scars on my arms and not from the tusks that mark what I am.
The bond pulls tighter. It should fade if she’s resisting it.
It doesn't.
Outside, the wind shifts. Snow slams against the door one last time before dying to a hush. The storm's easing.
I'm not ready for her to leave.
"Storm's breaking," I say.
"So, I can go back down the mountain tomorrow?"
The words scrape something raw in my chest.She can't. I won’t allow it.
But I know that’s not true. If she chooses to leave, I’ll let her. I won’t hold her here against her will.
I stand, pacing to the window, buying time. "Maybe not tomorrow. The world will be buried in snow for several days.”
"Then I guess I'm your guest for a while."
Guest.That's one word for it.
I turn back. "Stay here and stay warm. Make yourself at home, but don't go outside alone without me, though. The woods aren't safe."
"Because of bears?" She's teasing now. "Or other orcs?"
I shrug. "Both."
She studies me until the air between us feels charged. Finally, she nods. "All right, Thane. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Then stay. Be truly mine. Forever.
But all I say aloud is, “Good.”
Chapter 3
Lila
Iwaketowarmth.That's the first thing I notice, the fact that I’m not cold.
The second is that this isn't my bed, and the third is that I'm wearing a shirt that could fit four of me.
Sunlight spills through the window, catching dust motes that drift in the golden light. I stretch beneath the fur blanket, get up, and find my clothes hanging by the fire, dry now. A note rests on the table beside a steaming cup.
Stay inside. Don't open the door for anyone. -Thane
Blunt and bossy and—against all logic—it makes me smile.
The tea tastes earthy and wild. I like it.
I investigate the space. For a guy who lives alone, Thane keeps things remarkably tidy. Hand-carved furniture. Dried herbs hanging from the rafters. A rack of knives that look ceremonial.
Where is he?I find myself longing for his presence, wanting him near.
