“Tea will be ready in a few minutes,” he said without turning around. He stepped over to the refrigerator and pulled out bread, meat, cheese, not turning as he quickly made a sandwich.
Silence ticked between us for too long.
“Hail?” I finally said.
“Yeah?” He didn’t look my way.
“Thank you for all of this. For protecting me, for bringing me here, for…” I gestured around his kitchen, his home. “For sharing your space with me.”
He did turn then, his dark eyes soft with affection. “You don’t need to thank me for taking c-c-care of you. You’re my mate, but even if you weren’t, I’d still protect you with my life.”
His mate. The words still sent a little thrill through me, even though my only evidence of a bond was our matching golden tattoos.
He placed my tea and his own at the table, then brought over two enormous sandwiches on a paper towel, placing them in the middle. “Sit.”
I climbed into one of the chairs, low enough I could probably rest my chin on the table’s surface without ducking down. It was comical, really. Why, then, did I feel like I was going to cry?
Hail took the other chair and placed one half of a sandwich on a paper towel in front of me, nudging the tea. “Sugar or sorhox cream?”
“Um, no, black is okay.”
I lifted the mug, took a sip, and placed it back at the table. Since my belly was rumbling despite the tough situation, I grabbed the big half-sandwich and took a bite.
Watching me, Hail nodded before biting into his meal as well.
“So,” I said after I’d demolished my half of sandwich and he’d placed another chunk on my plate. “Sharing a bed platonically. How do you think that’s going to go?”
Hail’s smile came out both rueful and slightly pained. “I believe we’re about to find out.”
Chapter 14
Hail
After we finished eating, I cleared the table while Allie sat quietly, her hands wrapped around her empty tea mug. Washing dishes gave me a feeling of domesticity that settled into my bones like a warm hug. This was a glimpse of what life could be if she stayed.
But she wasn’t here forever. This was temporary while we dealt with whoever was hunting her. The reminder sent an ache through my chest that I tried to ignore.
The contradiction tore at me. My orc nature saw her as permanently mine, marked and claimed by fate itself, while my rational mind understood that humans didn’t view bonds the same way. To her, this arrangement was practical, a shelter from the storm. To me, it was the beginning of something eternal. Each domestic moment, from her clothes in my drawers to her scent on my pillows felt like pieces of a future I wanted but couldn’t assume she’d share.
“I’ll sh-show you where you can put your things,” I said, picking up her suitcase after.
She followed me down the hall to my bedroom with Tressa padding along with us. Heat crept up my neck at the sight ofmy unmade bed, my clothes tossed over a chair. I’d never had anyone in this space before, and it felt intimate in a way that made my palms sweat.
After straightening the bed, I tossed the clothing in the basket where they belonged. I opened two drawers in my bureau, quickly moving my own belongings to the lower ones to make room.
I stepped back to give her space. “You can use these.”
“Thank you.” She began to unpack her possessions.
I watched her place each item in the drawers. Everything she owned fit easily in the area I’d cleared, with room to spare.
The sight did strange things to my heart. Her simple cotton shirts one drawer above my pottery work clothes. Her single pair of pajamas near my socks. It looked like we belonged together.
“I’ll, um, I’ll be in the living room.” I backed out of the room before I could do something foolish like tell her how right this felt.
I’d just settled on the couch with my sword sheath removed and the blade leaning within reach when a knock came at the back door. Tressa’s ears perked up, but she wasn’t alarmed. I went to check.
Dungar stood on my back porch, looking grim in the moonlight. I unlocked the door and stepped outside, closing it softly behind me.
