He leans down, and our foreheads touch… just barely, soft as a sigh, electric as lightning. Everything inside me flares at once, heat and anticipation and desire and confusion tangled together in a way that doesn't feel wrong. It feels inevitable.
His breath brushes my lips, but he doesn't close the distance. He waits, trembling.
"You can kiss me," I murmur.
He makes a low sound that's almost a growl, almost a prayer, and then he bends, closing the final inch. It's a soft, careful kiss—not claiming, not consuming. Discovering.
Heat blooms low in my stomach while my fingers curl against his hand. He angles closer, slow and reverent, like he's cataloging every second. Then he pulls back—barely—his forehead resting against mine while his breath shudders out.
"If I continue," he murmurs, "I won't stop."
My heart hammers. "Who said I wanted you to?"
He squeezes his eyes shut, looking tortured and needy all at once. "Telling you what I am comes first," he says, voice ragged. "Then you choose."
He steps back with his chest rising and falling hard, putting distance where neither of us wants it, because he promised himself something I don't understand yet. The space between us feels cold, but the heat in my body doesn't fade.
"In the morning," he says, more vow than word. "When the storm breaks."
Tomorrow, when I can leave if I want to. I swallow hard.
"I'm not going to run away from you," I whisper.
He flinches like the words strike deep. "Don't promise that yet."
He turns away then, jaw tight and shoulders tense, as though holding himself together takes physical effort. I sink back into the furs with my heart pounding and my lips tingling, and I know I'm in trouble. Because I believe him, and because I don't want whatever tomorrow brings to change a damn thing.
Chapter 6
Garruk
Dawncomesslowly.
The storm is still thick with winds muttering against the walls, but the worst has passed. Light slips through the shutters in pale stripes across the floorboards, and Ava stirs beneath the furs. The bond thrums awake instantly, a warm, steady pull beneath my ribs.
She blinks sleepily with her eyes soft and her cheeks flushed from the heat of the hearth. Her hair is tousled, and her lips are still faintly pink from last night's kiss. I should keep my distance, but I lost most of my strength for restraint the moment she leaned into me and whispered, "You can kiss me."
"Ava," I say, keeping my voice low.
She looks at me for half a heartbeat, and something in her gaze unravels whatever resolve I had left. It's warm and open andwanting.
"Morning," she whispers.
"How do you feel?"
She shifts and winces faintly, glancing down at her ankle—swollen but wrapped well, healing. But when she looks back up at me, there's nothing hesitant in her eyes. "Garruk," she says softly. "You said you'd tell me today."
A cool draft brushes the cabin, and I swear the mountain listens. I move closer, slow so she can stop me if she wants to. She doesn't. Her breath catches, and her fingers tighten in the furs on my bed.
"I'm an orc," I say, the words heavy on my tongue. "Born in these mountains. My brothers and I hid when humans hunted our kind, and now we stay hidden because history would only repeat itself if humans knew we were here."
She doesn't flinch. "Okay."
I blink. "Okay?"
Her fingers brush mine, tentative but steady. "You saved my life. You've taken care of me. You treat me better than any human ever has, so yeah. Okay."
The bond surges so hard my breath breaks.
