Her smile bloomed slowly, radiant enough to chase away every shadow that had haunted her face since I'd arrived at herdoor. "Then yes." She reached out and took my hand, her fingers small and warm against mine. "Yes, I'll come back to the village. I'll be your clan doctor."
Relief crashed through me like a wave, but it dragged something deeper in its wake—something urgent and terrifying and impossible to ignore. "Good," I managed. "That's... good."
She tilted her head, studying me with those perceptive eyes. "You don't sound as happy about it as I expected. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I am happy." I tightened my grip on her hand, unable to let go. "But there's something else I need to ask you. Something more important than the job."
Her breath caught. "What?"
The words lodged in my throat, too big and too raw, but I forced them out anyway. "I don't just want you as the clan doctor, Jordan. I want you as my mate. My chieftainess. My partner in life."
The silence that followed felt endless, fragile as spun glass. Her eyes went wide, searching my face—for doubt, maybe, or signs that I was joking. She wouldn't find either.
"Ruka..." she whispered, my name barely a breath.
"I know it's fast. I know you barely know me, barely understand our ways." My free hand clenched at my side, fighting the urge to pull her closer. "But Sarsa was right—I feel it. This pull toward you. It's not just attraction, though gods know I want you so badly I can barely think straight." I forced myself to meet her eyes. "It's more than that. You're more than that. You're brave and brilliant and you don't flinch from blood or battle or Orcs twice your size. You're exactly the kind of female I never thought I'd find."
"I feel it too," she said softly, and my heart stuttered. "I thought I was losing my mind. I thought it was just... I don't know, stress or loneliness or some kind of trauma response fromeverything that happened." She laughed shakily. "But it's not, is it? This is real."
"Yes."
She leaned closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, her sweet breath on my face. "Then yes," she said, her voice steady now, certain. "Yes to all of it."
The world narrowed to just her face, her eyes, the soft curve of her mouth. "You're sure? You understand what you're agreeing to?"
"I'm sure."
I cupped her face in my hands, marveling at the delicate warmth of her skin, how perfectly she fit against my palms. "Jordan," I breathed her name like a prayer, and then I kissed her.
She melted into me with a soft sound that shot straight through my chest. Her lips were impossibly warm and sweet, yielding under mine with an eagerness that made my blood sing. When her hands came up to grip my shoulders, I pulled her closer, needing to feel every inch of her against me. The kiss deepened, grew hungry and desperate, and I tasted her gasp as my tusks grazed her cheek.
"Sorry," I murmured against her mouth, already missing the contact.
"Don't be." She kissed me again, harder this time, more demanding, her fingers threading through my hair and tugging just enough to make me groan. "Don't ever be sorry for what you are."
Heat flooded through me at her words, at the fierce acceptance in them. I groaned and rolled her onto her back, reveling in the way her legs wrapped around my waist without hesitation. She was so small in my arms, so fragile compared to my bulk, but the way she clung to me—fierce and fearless andutterly unafraid—made me feel like I could tear down mountains with my bare hands.
"My mate," I whispered against her throat, feeling her pulse race wild and frantic beneath my lips. "Mine."
"Yours," she agreed breathlessly, arching into me. "And you're mine."
"Always."
I claimed her mouth again with fierce possession as my hands roamed her body, memorizing every curve, every dip, every soft gasp she made when I touched her just right. My palms traced the contours of her waist, her hips, the gentle slope of her thighs. She was all warmth and softness where I was hard muscle and rough edges, but somehow we fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that had been searching for each other across lifetimes.
"Ruka," she breathed my name like a benediction as I kissed down her neck, her collarbone, lower still. Her skin tasted like honey and salt, and I couldn't get enough. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, urging me on with an urgency that matched my own, and I growled low in my throat at her eagerness, at the way she arched into my touch like she needed it as much as I did.
When I finally entered her, we both stilled for a heartbeat, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it, by the feeling of coming home. Her eyes locked with mine, dark and dilated with desire, and I saw everything I felt reflected back at me. Then she rolled her hips experimentally and I was lost, moving with her in a rhythm as old as time itself, as natural as breathing. She met me thrust for thrust, her nails raking down my back hard enough to leave marks I'd treasure tomorrow, her cries of pleasure driving me wild with need.
"More," she demanded breathlessly, and who was I to deny her anything? I gave her everything I had, pouring all my need and desire and devotion into every movement, every touch,every kiss. I wanted her to feel how much she meant to me, how completely she'd captured me. When she shattered beneath me, calling my name like it was the only word she remembered, I followed her over the edge, burying my face in her neck as waves of pleasure crashed over us both, drowning us in sensation.
We stayed tangled together for a long moment, her heartbeat gradually slowing against my chest as our breathing returned to normal. I pressed lazy kisses to her temple, her cheek, anywhere I could reach, reluctant to separate even an inch from her warmth.
"So," she said eventually, her voice still husky with satisfaction, "when do we leave for the village?"
I stilled, my hand pausing its idle path along her spine. The village. Reality intruding on our perfect bubble. Of course she would think of the practical next steps—she'd agreed to come with me, to be my healer, my mate. But the thought of sharing her with everyone else so soon made something fiercely possessive coil in my chest.
"Actually," I said, choosing my words with care, "I was thinking we could stay here for a few days."
