Malek let out a growl as he wrapped me in his massive arms, hiding my nakedness beneath the weight of his body.
“I’m busy!” he roared, his voice laced with a deadly warning.
But it was too late.
The entrance bead curtain was yanked aside, and Ni’kira burst into the cabin. The female orc’s eyes widened, scanning the scene until they fixed on the point where our bodies were fused and, inevitably, on the fresh, bruised bite mark on the Ruk’hai’s shoulder.
A surge of violent possessiveness, a feeling I never imagined myself capable of almost two centuries of life, tookhold of me. Before I could process it, my mind was silenced by orc instinct.
I bared my fangs at the intruder and let out a sharp hiss, a warning that this cabin and this male were mine. I felt my claws throb, ready to be used if she took a single step further.
“Out!” Malek practically roared, the sound snapping the female out of her momentary shock.
“Morak! Morak!” Ni’kira stammered, her face draining to a shade of ash as she retreated, tripping over her own feet to flee the cabin before Malek or I could reach her.
I kept hissing for a few seconds after she left, my chest heaving, the lingering scent of her in the hut grating on my nerves. Malek turned back to me, pressing a kiss to the curve of my neck, almost apologetic, as if trying to soothe the beast the reckless orc had stirred.
“She’s gone, krash’uk.”
“What did she want?” I asked, my voice raspy with the anger of having not only my territory invaded, but my pleasure denied.
“It doesn’t matter.” He reached out with an enormous hand and, with a delicacy that contrasted sharply with the fury from moments before, brushed the damp strands of hair from my face. “She should have waited. No orc enters a Ruk’hai’s cabin without an invitation, especially when the scent of mating is in the air.”
His possessiveness pleased me in a way my Ceilte upbringing would have condemned as wild.
“Is she the female who wants to be your mate?” I asked, unable to hide the jealousy in my voice.
Malek frowned. “Ni’kira?” he asked, confused. “She wants to be the Ruk’hai’s mate, Fiona. She wants the position, the power that comes with the leadership. She doesn’t want me.”
He leaned in and kissed the top of my head. The weight of his hand on my waist was a cocoon of safety. There was no more room for doubt; what we had now, however much I still couldn’t name or explain it, was the most real thing I had ever experienced in my life.
“You’re mine, krash’uk,” he whispered against my skin, pressing me against his massive chest. “Remember that.”
I didn’t need a reminder. His scent clinging to me and the mark of his fangs on my neck were more than enough.
“And you’re mine,” I countered with the same intensity, burying my face in the curve of his neck and placing a possessive kiss over his mark.
???
We didn’t leave the cabin until hours later. Malek looked like the imposing warrior he always was, but there was a different spark in his eyes, a heat that hadn’t existed before. The bite scar on his shoulder was the only visible proof of our union, and it filled me with pride as the orcs of the village noticed it.
He had given me new clothes: a deep green top and an orange loincloth, colors I never would have imagined wearing in my life, yet they made me feel beautiful. We walked side by side to Leone’s hut, and the respect in the village was clear; the orcs noticed the change in the Ruk’hai’s posture immediately. Many smiled, while others bowed their heads in reverence.
I didn’t see Kalisha anywhere. I had to apologize to her for keeping her waiting. I hoped she wasn’t too angry.
When we reached the cabin, we found Leone more alert. He was propped up on one arm as the fever finally broke. His blue eyes, so familiar, studied me with the clarity of someone who had known me for more than a century.
“You took your time,” he remarked, a faint smile touching his cracked lips. “I thought the orc had eaten you for lunch.”
“Almost,” I replied, feeling the flush creep up my face. Malek let out a low grunt beside me, a sound of pure satisfaction that did nothing to help my embarrassment.
I handed Leone the bowl of stew, and he ate with a ravenous hunger. But as his appetite was sated, his focus shifted. He flicked his gaze back and forth between Malek and me, processing the electricity that still crackled in the air between us and the scent of mating that was undeniable to a sensitive nose.
“Did you sleep together?” he asked bluntly.
I froze. Malek, on the other hand, leaned over me, leaving the bite scar on his shoulder, my mark, plainly in view.
“What of it?” he countered, his tone defiant, unwilling to tolerate any questioning when it came to his female.
