Epilogue Two

Six months later

Torren holds my hand as I step down from the driver's seat of a merchant's wagon in the village where my aunt lives. Morg follows close behind, hovering near me, his palm brushing the small of my back in a protective gesture. He taps lightly against the leather belt slung around my hips and the dagger sheathed there.

I never go anywhere without it. It was a gift from both my mates on the anniversary of my arrival at the Hill. They'd forged it together, one of several pieces they've done since we started a relationship. Morg forged the blade, a double-edged, narrow spike just a bit longer than my hand, and Torren made the handle, inlaying it with real gold in a pattern of floral vines.

It's the most precious thing I own.

We've traveled all day, so I'm tired, but I'm also buzzing with anticipation at the thought of seeing my mother for the first time in a year.

Things had been fraught between us after that initial dismissal from my father's side, but that winter, I'd decided to try once again and wrote her a letter via her sister, just as she had instructed.

To my surprise, I received a heartfelt apology in the letter that arrived as soon as the snow melted enough for the roads to be passable again. In fact, I received two more letters directly after that because Mother wasn't certain I'd gotten the first one. Since then, we've been writing frequently back and forth. I've kept her appraised on the news from the orc kingdom, and she's been telling me about her visits to her sister, which have grown more frequent in the recent months.

She never mentioned my father, and I never asked about him either. She was sending and receiving these letters in secret, and it gave me a little thrill to know that she was defying him for me.

And perhaps those small acts of rebellion built up her courage, because her most recent letter arrived with an invitation to meet her at my aunt's house before winter arrived again. She specifically expressed her wish to meet my mates, of whom I'd told her much in my letters.

Torren smiles at me encouragingly as he opens the wooden gate to my aunt's garden. It creaks lightly, the wood damp from a recent rain. Morg takes my hand and squeezes my fingers, offering silent support.

But when I lift my gaze and look at the front door, I stop. My mother is standing at the door, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her eyes dart left and right as she takes in the two handsome, tall orcs by my side. Then she focuses on the slight bump of my growing belly just visible beneath my woolen travel dress, and her face lights up with a smile.

I grip Morg's hand tightly, then let go, and he nudges me forward lightly.

She rushes toward me, wraps her arms around me, and squeezes me tight. A muffled sob escapes her. She buries her face in my shoulder and weeps.

I lift my arms to hug her right back, my heart full, and say, "Hello, Mother. I have so much to tell you."

The End.