I think about last night. The nightmare—god, that was embarrassing. Screaming in my sleep like a child. But Jonus didn’t make me feel embarrassed. He just... showed up, sat with me and then slept in that too-small chair in order to make sure I felt safe.
And he looked so damn sexy doing it.
Even cramped in that ridiculous chair, legs too long, shoulders too wide, he looked like something out of a fantasy. Green skin, black horns, tusks that should be terrifying but somehow aren’t. He stayed in that chair all night, uncomfortable as hell, ust so I would feel safe.
I’d offered him the bed and he’d said no.
I really, really wished he’d said yes.
The guest bed is only a queen and yes, it would’ve been a tight fit with his massive frame, not that that worried me much. In fact, the idea of being pressed up against all that warm muscle, his arms around me, his scent surrounding me?—
Okay. I need to stop.
I’m supposed to be recovering from trauma and trying to get my evidence organized to take down Aldridge before he comes after me again, not fantasizing about my orc rescuer. This is probably just my brain latching onto safety and confusing it with attraction.
Except it doesn’t feel like confusion. It feels like clarity.
And then there was his growled “No” about the wheelchair. The way his eyes went dark and possessive. He wants to carry me. He wants to help me.
I want his help too.
Whatever this thing is between us, I don’t want it to stop.
“Jonus,” Ellie cries out. “Can you instead move Sloane to one of the chairs at the table? Breakfast is almost ready.”
I smile at her.
Ellie is at the stove flipping pancakes. Garlen is helping Zoe with her backpack, I assume, checking that she has her lunch and her homework. Loki darts between everyone’s legs, hoping for dropped food, still wearing that ridiculous blue sweater I saw from last night.
“Good morning,” she yells out happily. “You look rested now, which is good.”
It’s warm, domestic chaos. The kind of thing I’ve only ever seen in movies.
Jonus returns and settles me onto a chair at the table, next to Aldar, where I can see everything, then goes to help. I watch him move through the kitchen—grabbing plates, pouring juice, ruffling Zoe’s hair as he passes. He fits here. This is his family.
And they’re all... accepting me. Like I belong here too.
I don’t know what to do with that.
Aldar is at the table with his tablet, barely looking up. Probably texting Lucy. I make a mental note to interrogate her about that later.
Before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the front door. Garlen opens it to reveal two more guests. An older orc—dignified, with kind eyes and an air of quiet authority. And a human woman, stylish, probably mid-fifties, with Ellie’s same warm smile.
“Sloane,” Garlen says, “this is my uncle Dane, and Ellie’s mother, Laurie.”
“I’m married to Dane, he’s my husband, and we live next door, that’s how we got here so quickly.” Laurie says as she crosses to me immediately, taking my hands in hers. “And oh, honey, Jonus told us what you went through. We’re so glad you’re safe.”
Her grip is warm and firm. Motherly in a way my own mother never managed.
Dane nods formally, but his eyes are kind. “You are welcome here. You’re family now.”
Family.
The word hits me harder than expected. My throat tightens. “Thank you,” I manage. “That means... thank you.”
“Grandma!” Zoe shouts, cutting the tension. She bounces over to hug Laurie, then Dane. “Grandpa Dane!”
The morning then continues in a blur of activity. We all chat about nothing in particular. The weather. Road conditions. And the super interesting orc/human private school Zoe attends and where both Garlen and Ellie work.
