Chapter 12

Ella

I'm still confused, but now I'm at least happily so.

It's Saturday midday, and Rhokar is due to pick me up any minute now to take me on a date. Or rather, I think it's a date. It's probably a date?

I mean, was our dinner on Monday a date? Would it be considered more or less of a date if we factor in the abduction element?

With how hot and cold Rhokar has been, I'm not entirely sure I can confidently interpret his signals… I'm going to go with today maybe potentially being a date , and play it by ear.

Which is all well and fine, but it leaves the matter of what to wear a lot more difficult to decide on. Where is the line that doesn't try too hard in case it's not a date, but isn't so casual that it feels out of place in case it is a date? And what about my hair? Not to mention makeup.

I've settled on pale jeans that sit snug around my hips and make my butt look good, a white tank top and a deep blue cotton button up to bring out my eyes, although I've left it entirely open and am using it more as a light cardigan than a shirt.

My hair is pulled into an artfully tousled ponytail, and I've applied the lightest amount of makeup, filling in my brows, adding blush, and lining my eyes with just a touch of black pencil to make them pop under my mascara.

I'm honestly fussing over my appearance more than I have in a very long time, and I bite my lip as I stare at my reflection, holding small gold hoops to my ears to see if they look good, and balancing from one foot to the other, wearing a different shoe on each foot.

My doorbell rings, and I suppress a squeak— even though I do not squeak —throw the sneaker off one of my feet and shove the earrings on as I hop into my nicer boots.

"Just a sec!" I call as I grab my handbag, doubling back to pick up my forgotten lipstick, quickly popping just a little in the center of my lips before smearing the rest to look like a natural flush, and then nearly tripping over a new toy for my toddlers that arrived this morning. "Nearly ready!"

My door rattles with the sound of impatient knocking next, but I still take the extra few seconds to grab the baby toys and shove them in a cupboard. I am not ready for that conversation yet, not by a long shot. Although, if things go well, hopefully, soon…

"Ella, what are you doing?" Rhokar's grouchy voice comes muffled through my door as I rush over, and he knocks again. "This isn't some red-carpet event, for crying out loud. Just answer the door, I'm sure you look…fine…"

I pull open the door, but for a second, I'm struck speechless as I'm faced with a Rhokar wearing dark denim and a tight black t-shirt.

His black hair is up in its customary man-bun, short cropped at the back and sides and swept up on his head, and it suits this more casual look. Both hands are shoved into his jeans pockets, feet firmly planted apart, and I can't seem to stop my eyes from tracing across his entire body. He looks so much less sharp and imposing out of his business suit, and the contrast to how I'm used to seeing him has me staring.

Not to mention that his tight shirt, the sleeves of which cut right at the largest point of his huge green biceps, definitely leaves less to the imagination.

Okay, since when was a t-shirt this sexy?

I blink hard and drag my eyes away from where the material stretches across his wide pecks, only to discover that his own gaze is currently lingering on my chest, which is admittedly more on display than I'd usually show at the office. I mentally pat myself on the back for deciding on my good push-up today.

"You look good," I say with a smile, and he rips his eyes away from me and clears his throat, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets and stepping back as if trying to avoid my compliment.

"Thanks," he mumbles quietly, gruffly, while firmly avoiding eye contact. " Youlookgoodtoo now let's go."

I bite my lip in a valiant effort to stop myself from giggling. Nervous Rhokar is the cutest.

"Pardon?" I ask innocently, widening my eyes and remaining right where I am in the doorway.

His gaze darts back to mine in a glare. "I said thanks."

"No, the part after that."

"Let's go . "

"No, the part—"

"I swear to the entire pantheon of gods, woman, I will leave you here."

I manage to keep my laugh at bay, but the wide, beaming grin that stretches across my lips is impossible to hold back.

"Okay," I say happily, stepping out and locking up. "Thanks."

His brows lower as I thank him for the compliment I'd just pretended I didn't understand, but before he can say anything else, I casually slip my arm into the crook of his elbow and turn my eyes up to his expectantly. "Ready?"

I feel him stiffen beneath my touch, but when he doesn't pull away from me, I stay right where I am. I've decided on being assertive, go-getter Ella today, who will make the first moves and do nothing to mask her intentions. Every project is different, but the management style is always the same, when it comes down to it. You just have to learn to roll with the punches.

After a few seconds Rhokar relaxes against my touch, and I let my fingers shift up over the hard planes of his bicep as we move towards his pick-up.

Plan of action? Treat this as a date until it turns into one.

Desired outcome? Have it lead to a second date.

Bonus extra? Well, I would be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about kissing him all week.

***

We arrive at Heartwood Grove, a grove of ancient pine trees in the center of town. The place is apparently the heartbeat of Whispering Pines, pulsing with some sort of low frequency magic to help sustain the fae community here. At least, that's what the plaque at the entrance to the park says.

"I don't get it," I say as we stroll under the trees. "You mean like actual, honest-to-god magic?"

The park around us is buzzing with a mix of people as we walk the wide, tree-lined path, all of us heading towards the strip of market stalls nestled in the dappled shade ahead. There aren't really any humans that I can see, but it's such a calm and inviting environment that I don't at all feel out of place. There are kids and adults of varying shapes and sizes around us, some with wings, some with horns, and even a furry toddler who suddenly drops to all fours and races off from his shouting parents with a speed that surprises me.

"Not abra kedabra , turn a mouse into a mole

type of magic," Rhokar responds, "but, essentially, yes. Magic." He's walking in step beside me, his stride significantly slower than usual in order to match my pace.

"But then, what does it do?"

"It's…it's the life-force of our town."

I wait for several seconds as we get closer to the colorful stalls, but when he doesn't seem inclined to elaborate, I nudge him with my elbow.

"You know, that's very poetic and all, but I have no idea what it means," I say. My attention is immediately caught by the first stall we reach, with the words ‘Brass, Pewter, & Silver Cauldrons' emblazoned across the front. "Are you trying to say you guys can't survive without this magic?"

"No," he starts, although he seems immediately distracted when I link my fingers through his and drag him towards the stall. I inwardly grin when he doesn't shake his hand free and allows me to pull him over. "It, uh…"

"Because there's huge communities of fae folk in all the largest cities, and I doubt they all have underground fairy springs or ancient rocks or something." I pick up a tiny cauldron to inspect, and although I let go of Rhokar's hand, he remains exactly as close to me as I left him. My inward grin begins to turn outward. "So then, what does this magic grove do?"

"It's earth magic. It…sustains us."

"What? How?"

His eye twitches as I turn to face him. "With magic."

I'm gearing up to begin bugging him about something he clearly doesn't know how to answer, just to see him squirm, when a third voice joins us.

"Think of it more like the power of nature." A plump, good-natured looking older woman appears from behind Rhokar's huge frame, glancing at me from where she was inspecting a long silver stirring rod. "The magic of growth—of fertility, health, and balance. It's like an underground water reserve that seeps into the earth all around it, keeping the land and its people healthy."

"Oh," I say thoughtfully, as Rhokar takes an immediate step away from me and rubs his neck. "So it's more like a power bank, rather than a spell or something?"

"That's what I said," he mutters under his breath, and I smirk and pat his forearm consolingly. You said mice and moles and made no sense, but okay. There, there.

"That's a nice modern way of putting it," the woman says. She has a long, salt-and-pepper braid that sits thick over her shoulder and nearly reaches her bellybutton, kind gray eyes, and a mesh tote bag already brimming with clanking, bright items. "A power bank. I'll remember that. Although unfortunately, our power is starting to drain, both here and around the world." She waves the seller over and gestures at the silver item still in her hand, even as she smiles at us.

"Ismelda, please, we don't need another of your lectures about the old ways," Rhokar sighs, but before she can respond a bolt of recognition flashes through me, and I jump in.

"Ismelda? Wait, you're the wonderful

witch who found me and helped me get my job?" I'd never exchanged more than emails with her and couldn't have recognized her by face or voice.

"Well, there aren't all that many humans around here," she says warmly, "but I was wondering if that might be you, Ella." Her plump cheeks are rosy and her smile sincere as she steps closer for a handshake. "It's wonderful to meet you in person."

"My god, I owe you so much!" I grab her hand and shake it enthusiastically, and she chuckles and pats the back of my hand warmly. "Thank you so much for finding me and helping me with everything, this town is perfect."

"My pleasure, dear, I love to help."

We chat a little more as she finishes her purchase, but when I ask her to join us, her sharp gray eyes dart between Rhokar and I curiously, and she declines. I swear Rhokar blushes as he clears his throat and mutters at me not to bug the witch while she's shopping, hurrying me along with his big palm hovering almost-but-not-quite touching against my lower back.

I look over my shoulder as we leave. "It was nice to finally meet you!"

I could swear there's a devious, cheeky sort of energy to Ismelda as she smirks, eyes still darting between us, and she sends me a wink. "I'll see you around, dearie."

Colorful tapestries flutter in the breeze as we continue our stroll, hawkers enthusiastically advertising everything from pixie dust to authentic gnome-made gardening tools, jewelry and improbably shaped fashion items, cookware and kitchen tools of all sizes, and even one stall selling nothing but large, bright purple eggs.

We take our time chatting and walking, Rhokar showing unbelievable patience compared to usual as I fuss over every item in every store. He doesn't complain as I touch everything and ask a million questions as I discover so many new things. We meander through the stalls, our conversation weaving seamlessly between discussions of the eclectic items on display, and snippets of our own stories and lives that we share.

The noticeable exclusion of the twins from our chatter as we share bits of our lives with each other weighs on my mind, but I find myself still hesitating to bring them up. It feels too early in our exploration of each other to suddenly dump that on him. I mean, technically this is our first date. Second? Possibly.

Either way, it's an awkward thing to suddenly bring up in the middle of the day, it doesn't feel like the right time. Soon, but not right now. It would be better if we got comfortable with one another first, or at least had a few more pleasant interactions that aren't filled with bickering before I drop that bomb, and I decide to put a pin on having that conversation—but not for much longer. I know it has to be soon.

I let myself push that issue away as the day continues, and allow myself to freely enjoy my time without any ulterior motives or hang ups for now. Rhokar seems to become more comfortable, losing the stiffness between his shoulders and smiling more often. When I slip my fingers through his elbow, he shifts to accommodate me more easily. If I'm taking too long at any single stall, he presses his palm to my lower back without hesitation, steering my completely unresistant self away, and if he knows it's because I melt into a puddle every time he touches me there and I forget to care about whatever trinket I was examining, he doesn't mention it.

There's a comfort in the shared exploration, in Rhokar's unbothered calm and little smiles as he watches me get excited over what must seem so normal to him. I'm having such a good time I don't even notice the sun dipping until the scent of exotic spices and the savory aroma of street food hitting my nose makes my stomach growl.

Rhokar seems to be particularly honed in to my grumbling stomach, because he doesn't fail to notice it and drags me away from a clothing stall for giants that doesn't have a single item to suit me, but which I couldn't help but go through just to see what sort of stuff giants wore.

He buys us both food, and we find a quieter spot to sit away from the liveliness of the market, where other couples and families are relaxing or eating. The ancient trees provide a natural canopy against the warm, late afternoon sun, which filters down through the leaves over the bench we've snagged.

"You know," I mutter as I sit beside him with a Styrofoam container full of fat noodles smothered in a thick, golden sauce of deliciousness. "I feel like I can…feel the trees, if that makes sense? Like when you're sitting in front of someone and you can feel them behind you, but every time I check, there's no-one there. It's just the big tree behind us." I look over at him as he slurps up a noodle and chews. "Am I crazy?"

He shrugs. "No. They're more alive than most trees. This grove is older than some countries are."

I blink at that, but decide not to ask. He'll probably just say it's magic and leave it at that, so I make a mental note to bring it up with Ismelda or Nib some other time.

Instead, I push my plastic fork through my noodles, feeling something shift inside me during this tranquil moment.

"Rhokar, can I ask you something?"

He huffs in amusement and sends me a sidelong glance. "You've been doing that all day, no reason to stop now."

I rest my food on my lap. "Why did you offer to bring me here today?"

It's such a switch from his previous behavior—from his initial annoyance at me working for him, his strange push-pull during dinner on Monday, and then his vague hesitance around me ever since he invited me here. The way he offered to bring me felt like such a deviation, and I want to understand.

I look back up at him as he finishes chewing his last huge mouthful and his dark brows lower. I guess he could easily give me some noncommittal response, or deflect and change the subject, but I hope he doesn't ignore the intent behind my question.

Why did you ask me out? Did you ask me out? What is this for you?

Despite my earlier confidence in turning this into a date, I don't want to be a bully or live in a delusion that he doesn't also feel, and today was such a good day I…I guess I want it to be real. I want him to want it to be a date. I like this side of him. He's been playful and relaxed, and it reminds me so much of the Rhokar I met all those years ago in the bar, I can't help but want that orc back for good.

He finally turns to me, frown still in place, and shrugs slowly as if he's confused at his own answer. "I wanted to."

That says everything and nothing all at once.

A non-answer, but I feel like it's an honest one. He doesn't seem to be the best with his words—unless it's to throw insults, a thought which almost makes me grin—and I feel my expression turning contemplative.

I put my food to the side and decide to ask a different way.

"Stop me if I do anything you don't want," I say quietly. "I won't be upset, I promise."

And before he can respond I touch my hand to his cheek and lean up, guiding his big frame to meet me in the middle, and I ask him with my lips.

The kiss is soft, and chaste, and lingering. I brush my mouth gently against his, careful of his tusks, and it feels so good, so right and comforting that it tugs at my heart and makes me feel warm all over.

But he's frozen beneath me, I'm not even sure he's breathing anymore, so I pull slowly away to look at him.

His eyes flutter open, and a whistle of air sucks in through his teeth as he remains bent towards me for a long moment. His dark eyes look a little glazed over, if I'm honest, and I lift a hand to tuck back a silky black lock that's fallen out of his bun.

"Do you want me?" I ask quietly when he doesn't seem inclined to move, and that breath whistles right back out of him as his eyes focus on mine.

"Yes," he whispers.

I smile, my heart beating a sudden, wild rhythm against my chest in joy. "Good," I say, and then tuck myself into his side, wriggling to press my body against his and leaning my head on his broad shoulder. "I want you, too."

After a moment he shifts, letting out a long, shaky breath and wrapping his arm around me, and we sit there for a long time after that, watching the sun slowly set behind the bright, bustling market.

It should scare me, how strong the feeling of belonging hits me in that moment. Like I belong here, in this town, in Rhokar's arms. Like I belong to him, like I've never truly belonged anywhere else.

And somehow, I've never felt safer, more at ease, than I do in this moment, in this feeling.