The way she said it, with such confidence in my choices, made everything inside me soften. While she sent a sharp gaze around the room, I studied her face, memorizing the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.
The golden symbol on my wrist caught my eye. Allie was my fated mate. The term still felt surreal, even hours after the mark had appeared. I traced the intricate lines with my finger, feeling the slight ridge where the mark had appeared on my skin. Among orcs, this was sacred, a bond formed by ancient magic that few were blessed enough to experience. Would Allie understand what it meant if I showed her or would it only frighten her more when she already had enough to fear?
In orc tradition, I should now claim her. Mark her to show the world she belonged to me, then start the bonding process that would link us for life.
I could almost taste her fear in the air. The longer we remained unbonded, the more intense these sensations would become. Our elders spoke of mates who could feel each other’s pain across vast distances, even sense when their mate needed them. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. But Allie wasn’t an orc, and I only had vague ideas for how human mating worked. Dungar would know. He researched everything.
Although, my brothers had human mates. They’d marked them, and the symbols appeared on their flesh as well.
I needed to talk to someone who understood both worlds. Jessi, maybe. She’d mated with Greel, so she’d know what it felt like from a human perspective.
“You’re staring,” Allie said, her cheeks turning pink.
“Sorry. I was…thinking.”
“About pottery?”
“About you,” I said honestly, then immediately felt my face heat up. “I mean, about working together. How well we-we-we…work together.”
She smiled, and that warmth in my chest spread outward. “I was thinking the same thing. I haven’t felt this comfortable around anyone in a long time.”
Greel returned with our drinks.
Allie took a cautious sip of the kythara juice, and her eyes widened. “Oh, this is good. It tastes like sunshine and berries.”
“The kythara fruit only grows in certain ca-caverns in the kingdom. Something about the mineral content in the soil.”
“Do you miss living there?”
I considered the question. “Parts of it. My family, mostly. I have more brothers, sisters. My parents. Lots of uncles and aunts and grandparents still. But I lo-love the surface. The sky, the changing light, the way different weather affects my pottery.” I gestured toward the front window where puffy white clouds drifted across blue sky. “We don’t have that…underground.”
There were rituals, celebrations that surface-dwellers didn’t understand, from the Cavern Echoes Festival where our songs would reverberate through miles of stone to the Coming of Age trials where young orcs navigated the darkest tunnels to prove their worth.
But I’d chosen this life, with its sunshine and endless sky.
She followed my gaze, but instead of looking at the clouds, her eyes swept the room with the same nervous alertness I’d noticed while walking from the barn.
Before I could ask about it, Greel appeared with our plates loaded with thick slices of golden velkara, perfectly grilled thaxon steaks, and a basket of warm nimmel bread that smelled amazing. Jessi had jumped right into cooking orc food, and I couldn’t be happier with the result.
“This looks amazing,” Allie said, cutting into her thaxon. She took a bite and made a sound that shot straight to my groin. “Oh my. This is incredible.”
I watched her taste everything, her face getting brighter with each new flavor. She loved the velkara, moaned over the nimmel bread, and declared the thaxon the best meat she’d ever eaten.
“You’re not being polite?” I asked, though I was enjoying my meal just as much, partly because she was with me and she took so much satisfaction from each bite.
“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve had in…” She paused, an odd look crossing her face. “In a very long time.”
Ah. Interesting.
When we finished eating and Greel came for our plates, Allie reached for her purse. “How much do I owe?”
“Nothing.” I pushed her hand away gently. “We eat for free.”
She stared at me. “Free?”
“Remember? I said meals during work hours were included with the job. Family privilege. We own the restaurant, so we don’t pay.”
“You own the restaurant too?”
