THIRTY-THREE
IVALYS
My mother used to make me feel like this. Protected. Cherished. Like I mattered not for what I could do, but simply because I existed. When she died, I thought I’d never feel that way again. I thought that kind of safety was gone from the world—or at least from my world.
But here’s this orc. This monster, by his own admission. And he looks at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. He threw himself between me and death without hesitation. He shattered every chain that bound him because I looked at him and saw a man instead of a weapon.
And now he wants to leave. Wants to take himself away because he thinks I deserve better.
No.
The word rises from somewhere primal. Somewhere that’s been waiting since I was nine years old to stop being strong, stop being careful, stop being the one who protects everyone else while no one protects her.
“And I should let you?”
He doesn’t answer.
“You said you loved me.” I let the words hang between us. “In the Hall. You said it out loud. Made me believe it. And now youwant to leave because—what? Because you think I’d be better off without you?”
“Because I am not good enough.” His voice cracks. “Because you deserve?—”
“Don’t.” I grab his face. Both hands on his jaw, forcing him to look at me. His skin is rough beneath my palms. Warm. Real. “Don’t tell me what I deserve. I’ve spent my entire life being told what I should want, what I should be, what’s best for me. My mother hid me away to protect me. Gror tried to save me by signing a contract that nearly killed us both. Everyone thinks they know what’s good for me.”
He doesn’t pull away.
“I’m a truth-speaker, Rathok. I see lies. I see intent. I see the real meaning beneath the words.” I hold his gaze. Let him see the certainty in mine. “You are not a lie. What you feel for me is not a lie. And what I feel for you?—”
I stop. Take a breath.
“I was there to collect you.”
“Yes. And you didn’t.” My thumbs trace his cheekbones. “You could have dragged me before the Ledger Master that first night. You didn’t. You gave me time. Helped me search for Gror. Broke your oath, your contract, two centuries of service—for me.”
“You make it sound noble.”
“I make it sound true.” I lean closer. Our foreheads almost touching. “You’re not a good man. You’ve done terrible things. You’ll probably do terrible things again, because that’s who you are—a killer, a fighter, someone who survives at any cost.”
He flinches. Tries to pull back.
I don’t let him.
“But you’re mine.” The words come out fierce. Certain. “You’re mine, and I don’t care about easy. I don’t care about safe. I care about what’s true.”
“Ivalys—”
“I love you.” I say it before I can stop myself. Before fear can choke the words back. The words tear out of me—raw, unpolished, terrifying in their truth. “I love you, and I’m not interested in someone without graveyards in his past. I’m interested in you. All of you. The monster and the man.”
Saying it out loud makes it real. Makes it dangerous. Gror was different—he was already there, already my responsibility. But choosing to love someone new? Opening myself up to that kind of devastation again?
When Mom died, it nearly destroyed me. I was nine years old, and the only person in the world who made me feel safe was gone. I swore I’d never let myself be that exposed again.
But here I am. Vulnerable. Terrified. Saying the words anyway.
Because he’s worth it. Because he makes me feel things I thought I’d forgotten how to feel. Because for the first time since Mom died, I don’t have to carry everything alone.
He goes still. Utterly, completely still—the predator stillness I’ve come to recognize, the motionlessness of something holding itself back by sheer force of will.
“You mean that.”
