Although she’d brought a book along with the cushion, if only as a prop to her story, it lay unopened in her basket. She’d barely had time to start it before Soren found her not long ago, exactly where she’d suggested he might take respite from the festivities.
He’d mentioned he wouldn’t mind if she read to him, but for now, Maeve was more than content to sit with him in peaceful quiet, listening to his gentle purrs as she pulled flowers from hercrown to weave into Soren’s mane.
Soren lay there amenably, his eyes closed. It was only that tail and how his ears shifted with her every movement that told her he was still awake.
“Did you have fun today?” she asked eventually, not bothering to speak much above a whisper.
“Imogen’s herd took first place, so we’re all pleased.” Reaching up, he blindly caught one of her hands to draw down to his mouth. He bestowed a few gentle kisses, whiskers tickling her palm. “You are better company than goats.”
Maeve laughed, smoothing her kissed hand over his forehead and mane. “What a rousing endorsement.”
He grinned softly, and Maeve couldn’t resist leaning down to taste it. Her kiss was quick, chaste, and she giggled to herself to hear his grumble when she straightened after just one.
“You’re better company than my brothers, too,” he added, no doubt hoping for another kiss.
“Hmm,” she hummed, tapping his lips with a fingertip. “I’m prettier company, I’ll grant you that.”
Her stomach swooped when, to her surprise, his lips parted and he caught her roving finger in his teeth. Delivering a teasing nip, he then flicked the pad with the tip of his tongue.
She fell silent, utterly surprised by the hint of teasing from him. Fates, he was getting bolder, and she didn’t know if she’d survive it. Of course, she loved his shy, gentle nature. There were few things she liked better than making him blush or shocking him with something seductive. Although his flirtations were still small, that they came from him made them all the more precious.
Maeve also couldn’t forget his comment. Better company than his brothers. Surely, he didn’t truly mean it. There wasn’t a real chance that he’d prefer her to them. Not in a way of any consequence.
Clearing her throat, Maeve redirected. “I was thinking…” When he cracked open an eye to peer up at her, she continued. “I apologize if it’s not something you want to discuss—if so, just say. But, how you talked about yourturuk, about it needing control, it sounded very much to me like the inner beast Orek talks about orcs having.”
She held her breath, waiting for him to say something. She didn’t think she’d upset him, but his ears and tail weren’t giving anything away.
“Yes, I’ve heard something similar,” he said finally.
Maeve nodded, deciding to forge ahead. “I thought perhaps it might be worth discussing it with Orek. From what I understand, the orc’s inner beast is quite insistent when they’ve decided on a mate. Perhaps it’d be good to talk with someone who’d understand.” Smoothing her hand over a cheek tuft, she added, “I thought it might be easier than with your brothers, especially if there’s a stigma around your beast.”
The words hung there between them, and Maeve bit her lips together to keep from saying anything else. She hated how much this inner conflict seemed to affect him. Soren was a good, kind man—he shouldn’t think less of himself because of something he was born with.
His purr grew in volume, and Maeve watched in surprise as he rolled from his back to his right side, pushing his head into her middle. One hand came up to cup her hip, keeping her there as he nuzzled her.
Left momentarily speechless, Maeve’s hands hovered over him a moment before she laid them on his shoulder and mane.
“Did I overstep?” she whispered.
“No,” he rumbled.
Maeve sighed in relief, digging her fingers deeper into his mane. Although he didn’t say anything else, his purr continued and every few moments he’d nuzzle her middle, taking in a deep,contented breath. He looked so relaxed, so…vulnerable.
Seeing this big, strong man like that stirred something in Maeve deep, deep down in her chest. Deeper than she’d ever felt before. Somewhere dark and unexplored.
He stayed like that a long while, the shadows of the tree marching up his thigh to his hip. From time to time, she thought he’d fallen asleep, but then he’d nuzzle again, sometimes murmuring her name or one of his mantii words.Urisá. Inaná.
She didn’t know what they meant, and yet, she understood.
This sweet, sweet man.
Maeve bit her lip, wondering if she dared make her second suggestion. Well, request, really. It felt as important, if not more so than her suggestion of speaking with Orek.
Leaning down, Maeve kissed his cheek before whispering, “Can I meet yourturuk?”
Soren went utterly still, his purr stuttering to a stop. His nostrils flared, and he turned his face up to gape at her.
“You can’t want that,” he murmured.
