"There are no important things until I decide there are."
She looked at him for a long moment. Her thumb moved against the inside of his wrist, tracing the thick vein there.
"That seems like an abuse of power."
"Yes."
Her smile transformed her face the way dawn transformed the mountains—not changing what was there, just illuminating it.
He leaned down and kissed her.
Not the desperate hunger of last night. Something slower. A greeting. Her mouth was soft and warm, and she tasted like sleep, and when she made a small sound against his lips and pressed closer, his hand tightened on her hip reflexively.
"You are going to make me late," she murmured against his mouth.
"Late for what?"
"The archives. My work. The reason I'm—"
He kissed her again. Deeper this time. Her hand released his wrist and found the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. His body responded immediately, blood redirecting southward, and he heard her breath catch when she felt him hardening against her thigh.
"Targesh."
He pulled back far enough to see her face. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes had gone dark. But there was something else there too, a question she was trying to frame.
"Ask."
"What is this?" She gestured between them. "What are we—is this—"
He understood what she was asking. What he could not do was answer it simply.
"Among my people," he said, "there is a word.Krenna."
Her cataloguing expression surfaced immediately. "What does it mean?"
He considered how to translate it. The word carried weight in Orcish that had no direct equivalent in Valdaran. Intent. Direction. The declaration that two people were walking toward the same horizon.
"It means we have chosen to learn what we are to each other," he said finally. "It means I will not touch another while we learn it. It means you are under my protection, and anyone who harms you answers to me."
Her fingers had stilled in his hair. "And what does it not mean?"
"It does not mean bonding. It does not mean permanence. Either of us can end it. But while it stands—" His jaw tightened. "While it stands, you are mine."
She was quiet for a long moment. He watched her process it, watched the information settle into whatever system she used to organize the world.
"Is that what you want?" she asked. "Krenna?"
"I have not wanted anything for myself in many years." His voice came out rougher than he intended. "I am not accustomed to the feeling."
Her hand moved from his hair to his face. Her palm curved against his scarred cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. The touch was gentle and strange, and he had to fight the urge to pull away from it.
"Then we're learning together," she said.
She kissed him.
The knock at his outer door came three minutes later, because the world had never once accommodated his preferences and was not about to start now.
"Warchief." Kethrak's voice. "The River Clan delegation is requesting a final meeting before their departure."
