He doesn’t make demands, guilt-trip me or imply that leaving would be a betrayal of what’s between us. He just asks what I want and somehow that’s worse, because if he’d demanded, I could push back. If he’d guilted me, I could get angry. But this quiet question forces me to actually figure out the answer.
I want to stay. I want this house, this family, this orc, these mountains. I want mornings with Loki and group chats with Anna and Ellie and the sound of Jonus making me breakfast before I’m even awake. I want wound care that makes me blush and drives that feel like I’m on another planet. I want to learn what it means to be loved by someone who shows up, every single time, without being asked.
But saying that means giving up the career I built from scratch.
And just like that, I’m back in the same impossible trap. A man I care about in one place. My career in another. The same long-distance nightmare I just barely escaped. Except this time it’s a thousand times worse, because with Ryan I didn’t care enough to feel devastated by the distance. With Jonus, the thought of being three thousand miles away makes my stomach drop so hard I almost feel sick.
I don’t even consider asking Jonus to come with me. Why would I? Ryan never offered to relocate. In fact, he made it crystal clear that I was the one who would need to give things up and go to him. No man in my life has ever rearranged his world to fit mine. I’ve always been the one expected to sacrifice.
I’m not sure about everything yet. The thought of becoming a mother right away—orc sons, immediate pregnancy—I’m still turning that over, feeling the weight and shape of it. But I know that I want Jonus Irontree permanently in my life. Not a fling. Not a temporary arrangement while the danger passes. Permanently.
And I don’t see how I can have both him and my career. Life is apparently cruel enough to force this same impossible choice on me twice.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Jonus gives a curt nod in return, but doesn’t push me on it and we both let it go for now. The afternoon passes in tense quiet.
I manage to finish one more section of the article, but my concentration is shot. Every time Jonus shifts beside me, I’m hyperaware of his powerful body. The flex of his muscular forearm as he types. The way his thigh presses warm against mine. His scent—I’ve started noticing his scent the way he notices mine, warm and masculine.
But I realize there is one thing I do know. Life is short. I’ve already almost died once. People are actively trying to kill meagain. And I’ve been lying next to this orc every night, burning for him, keeping my hands to myself because Ellie told me to be certain.
Well, I’m certain I do want him. And I’d like for us to remain together.
Do I want to marry Jonus Irontree?
Working next to him, smelling him, feeling his warmth through the thin fabric of our clothes. Every accidental brush of contact sends heat pooling between my thighs. I shift on the couch. Cross my legs. Uncross them.
Jonus’s nostrils flare slightly. He knows. Of course he knows. He can smell exactly how turned on I am and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Dinner comes and goes.I’m barely present for it.
Afterwards, Jonus carries me to our room.
Our room. When did I start calling it that?
He sets me on the bed. “Wound care,” he states. Although there’s not much to do anymore. I suspect he just likes an excuse to touch me.
Does his window check—that new ritual from last night, scanning the dark yard, testing the lock. Then he changes into his sleep pants and I watch the muscles of his back flex as he pulls his shirt over his head and my entire body clenches.
I take slow steps to the bathroom, proud that I can at least do this on my own. I use the restroom and change into my favorite pajama shorts and the little V-neck top. I don’t bother with any underwear.
And then I return to bed and climb under the covers.
He lies down beside me. I curl against him as I do every night now, my body finding its place against his like a key sliding into a lock. Head on his chest, arm across his waist, legs tangled. Hiserection is right there, pressing against my hip through those thin sleep pants. I’ve felt it every night. I’ve ignored it every night.
I can’t ignore it tonight.
“Jonus.” My voice comes out rough.
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
He goes still beneath me.
“I’m not staying here because it’s safe.” I take a breath and force the words out. “It’s obviously not safe—someone photographed me through the window yesterday. I’m staying because of you. Because I want to be where you are.”
His arms tighten around me.
