I hold on tighter.
I love this female and I suspect she is falling in love with me too. And yet someone is coming to try and harm her. And when they arrive, I will be ready.
Chapter Sixteen
Sloane
Islept like hell and I don’t care, because I’m eating pancakes in a mountain mansion surrounded by orcs and a darling corgi, and somehow this has become my life.
The kitchen is loud this morning. Garlen is at the stove flipping pancakes again while Zoe chatters about a class party on Friday. Ellie is packing lunches and simultaneously quizzing Zoe on her spelling words. Aldar is at the table with his tablet, probably texting Lucy, though he’d deny it under oath. Loki weaves between everyone’s legs, tail wagging, living his best chaotic corgi life.
And Jonus is pouring me coffee. Cream and sugar, barely any actual coffee, exactly the way I like it. He sets it in front of me without being asked and our fingers brush on the handoff. A small thing, except that warmth zings through my entire body.
I slept terribly last night because every creak of the house, every sound outside the window made me tense. I wasn’t afraid for myself last night, I was afraid for Zoe upstairs and for Ellieand the baby growing inside her. For Laurie and Dane next door. For Jonus, whose bruised knuckles I can see wrapped around his own coffee mug.
The fear I felt yesterday wasn’t the pit fear. I know that fear intimately. I lived with it for twelve days and I can manage it. This is worse. Because in the pit, I only had myself to lose.
I pick at my pancakes and watch Jonus move through the kitchen. The big orc ruffles Zoe’s hair, checks the front window out of habit and refills my coffee before I’ve even finished the first cup.
The thought crystallizes for the hundredth time: I’m not staying in Truckee because it’s safe. Yesterday proved that it’s not safe. I’m staying because of him.
“Okay.” I set my fork down and clear my throat. “I need to bring something up and I’m just going to say it because it’s been bugging me.”
Several faces turn my way.
“I’ve been keeping a running tally of everything you’ve all spent on me. It’s been super sweet of everyone to take care of me like this, but I can’t accept all of these handouts without compensation. The laptop, the phone, the clothes, the Walmart runs, the medical bills. It’s too much. I owe this family thousands of dollars at this point and I need to start paying you back.” I look at Jonus. “Especially to you. I make a good salary at the Times. I have an actual savings account. I can set up a payment plan or?—”
“You don’t owe us anything,” Jonus says.
“Jonus, I’m serious. I’m not a charity case. I have money and I can?—”
Ellie exchanges a glance with Garlen. A small, knowing smile tugs at her lips. “Sloane, honey. Has anyone explained to you how orc finances work?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Garlen turns from the stove, spatula in hand. “Orcs mined gold and precious metals from our ancestral mountain caves for centuries. When our species integrated into human society, we began converting those resources into human currency and investments. Every orc family that originally came from a commune has generational wealth.”
I stare at him. Then I look around the mansion and at the enormous kitchen and the custom furniture sized for orcs. Then I think of the entire mission to rescue me from Colombia, which must’ve been ridiculously expensive.
Oh wow.
“So when you said you were both teachers…”
Ellie laughs. “Oh, weareboth teachers, but we teach because we love it, not because we need the income.”
I turn slowly to Jonus. “You’re rich?”
“The Irontree family has vast resources, yes, and I’m part of that family.”
“How rich?”
He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that reminds me he’s only twenty-nine, even though he acts mature beyond his years. “Enough that you would never need to worry about money for housing or living ever again. That your children would never worry. That no one in this family would ever need to worry.”
I sit with this for a moment. This orc who makes me turkey sandwiches with no crusts, who sleeps in a nice but essentially ordinary bedroom with a single photo on the shelf, who carried me through a jungle, has never once bragged about his wealth.
I just stare at him, stunned.
His dark eyes meet mine and he shrugs. “Currency is something humans fret about but not orcs. All I worry about is if you’ll eventually want to stay with me.”
