Chapter 2

Ella

I tap my keycard over the sensor on my door, and with a quiet click it unlocks and we enter.

The reality of the situation kicks in—I'm about to spend the night with an orc, a non-human, and while many people are still just prejudiced enough to warn me away from doing this under the guise of ‘cultural and physical differences—'while really being just a little bit racist or species-ist or whatever you want to call it—I find that I'm not worried in the slightest. I feel safe with Rho. I feel more than just safe, I've never been so attracted to anyone in my life. It's insane the way my body calls for him, tugging me towards him like a magnet, despite only knowing him for a few hours. When I turn to face him and his big hands immediately come to grip possessively at my waist, I can neither help the way my stomach flutters at the sheer size difference between us as he looms over me, nor the way my lips spread in another smile as soon as they land on his face.

His very handsome, green face.

The room is dimly lit, casting soft moonlight over his features as I let my eyes trace over him. His jaw is strong and sharp, his brow heavy, and his dark eyes are warm. A tendril of black hair slips down from his bun, framing his broad, masculine face, and as he draws my body closer to his and mirrors my smile with a soft tip of his own lips, I reach my fingers up and touch his mouth.

"Before we go any further," I repeat his words from earlier, watching his face as I run my finger across his bottom lip before gently exploring one of his tusks. It sort of feels like a horn, bony and smooth beneath my curious fingers, and he allows me without any sign of discomfort. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," he rumbles quietly, and I let my fingers drop to his lightly stubbled chin.

My smile stretches playfully. "I demand a kiss."

He huffs in amusement and lifts his dark brows. "Demand, do you? Hmm…" One of his hands slides up to the base of my neck, fingers curling into a fist in my hair as he gently takes control of the angle of my head. "I'll allow it. This time."

A cold flutter passes through me at his words, as I'm reminded of his request for my number. I can't… I can't be in a relationship right now. After the divorce I swore off all men, and once he learns the truth, he wouldn't want me anyway and—

But his lips descend before my thoughts can get the better of me, and my mind goes quiet. There's a strangely pleasant tug at my heart, stilling my insecurities, and a moment later I melt into him.

He kisses me softly, mindful of the two tusks that jut from his bottom lip, and my eyes slip shut. He's gentle and careful as we explore one another. Before I know it, I'm parting my lips and feeling his tongue curl against mine. Heat builds through me as he skillfully takes charge of the kiss, and when he pulls away, I find myself making a little whimpering noise and trying to chase his lips with my own. But he's too tall, and I pout as he moves out of my reach.

"Come back here," I mutter, trying to pull him down by his shirt.

He just smirks down at me. "Not yet."

Those words trigger something in me, something defiant. Did he just deny me another kiss? I've been climbing the corporate ladder my entire career, managing projects filled with men and fae alike who think a little human woman couldn't possibly know what she's doing, and I've had to bring them all in line in order to get the job complete. If I say I want something done, then I want something done—I'm not used to being challenged and it's thrilling.

So before he can continue what he's saying, I press my hand directly over the zip of his suit pants, trailing up and down with a firm, suggestive pressure. "I said, come back here."

His brows lift, and then his eyes darken and his gaze becomes more intense as I feel him stiffen beneath my palm. I bite my lip, heat zipping straight through me at the suggestion of what's beneath. He feels…big.

"Kiss me," I demand, and he growls as he leans down, finally capturing my lips in another searing kiss. This time it's a collision of passion and dominance, and I respond with equal fervor, my body kicking into overdrive at the feel of him. I try to take control of the kiss, but he overpowers me with skill, allowing me no respite as he tugs sharply at my hair, which sends a frisson of pleasure straight through me. I moan as he tangles his tongue roughly against mine and begins to walk me backwards. His fingers tug at my hair, while the hand at my waist tightens possessively. Before I know it, I'm pressed roughly into the side of the bed, and I revel in the feel of his hard body against mine. My world narrows to the heat of his lips, the roughness of his stubble against my skin. When he tears away from me once more, we're both panting.

"On the bed," he growls, pushing his hips into mine and drawing a pleasured gasp from me.

But I only lift my chin, and one haughty brow. "I—"

"Now . " The way his voice rumbles out of him, deep and dark and commanding, does something to me. My insides clench, and my quick retort dies away.

He closes the distance between us, only to leave a searing nip at my lip that zings straight down to my core.

"Now, Ella."

Something in me clicks into place at the command of his voice and his large, muscled body so near me, threatening and enticing all at once just from his sheer, physical power.

When I don't immediately obey, struggling with myself at the desire to do as he says when I've never listened so thoroughly to a man before in my life—he suddenly clamps his fingers around my waist, lifting me effortlessly, and throws me

onto the bed as if I weigh nothing more than a pillow. My words leave me entirely, and my core floods with heat. He strides towards the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, and when we come together it's all tongue and tusk and hot, hard, demanding passion. He takes control of my body, only to take care of me over and over, flooding me with pleasure and gentle touches and deep, husky commands. I come three times before he finally allows me to touch him back, and the sounds he makes when I put my hands and mouth to him will forever ring in my memories.

When we come together, it's overwhelming in its passion and pleasure, sending me to spiraling heights like nothing else ever has.

And when he falls asleep at my side, my heart continues to beat in a frantic tattoo against my chest, refusing to slow and let me sleep.

My traitorous thoughts circle back through me.

He asked for my number. He wants to see me again. And somewhere deep, deep inside, a part of me calls out with longing at the offer, tugging me towards him, begging me to take him up on it.

Which does nothing but send pure fear coursing through my heart.

***

Six Weeks Later

My sister is sitting on her couch staring at me, hair in a messy golden-brown bun, blue eyes wide, and a forgotten mug of coffee in one hand as she finally snaps her mouth shut.

"And then?" Grace says into the silence of the room, as my story stutters to a stop. "Wait, so a huge, gorgeous orc in a business suit flirted with you all night, expressed his eager desire for you, sniffed you in an alley…and then? What happened next!"

I sigh, looking down at my own coffee mug from where I sit on the couch opposite her, and don't immediately respond.

"Well?"

"Well…I took him back to my hotel room?"

"And then?"

"And then the rest is history, as they say."

" They don't say anything! You tell me everything, right this instant!"

"I'm not describing my sex life to my sister."

"You started this!" She all but screeches. "Oh my god, this is not fair at all. I'm the eldest, you have to do what I say! Just tell me!"

And then, probably because of all her dramatic shouting, her one-year-old son wakes from his nap and starts wailing from the adjacent room. With a grumble she dumps her coffee down on the table between us and heads off to calm Lucas, and I'm temporarily left alone with my thoughts.

It's been six weeks since that amazing, spontaneous night with Rho. Six weeks since I'd been made love to more thoroughly, orgasmed more times consecutively, than I'd thought was possible. God, he was so attractive.

I never knew being with an orc would be so life-alteringly amazing. I'll never be able to even look at a human man with appreciation again.

I'm from a relatively small, human town about forty minutes out from Salt Lake, and although my work has taken me to all sorts of big cities teaming with hundreds of different fae races, I've never actually been with anyone but a human. Not that I have anything against the idea, but it seems as if both human and fae races mostly sort of…avoid each other in that sense. You do see more mixed-species couples these days, but it's still a little rare. Plus, I've heard that orcs are a brutish sort of race, rough and savage and unyielding.

Rho wasn't, though. Not in any way that wasn't good. If there ever was a perfect mix between gentlemanly and commanding, he was it.

But ignoring his dark, liquid eyes that swirled with warmth every time he looked at me, ignoring the way his huge, rough hands touched me so softly, as if treasuring my body, or the way his broad chest narrowed into perfectly chiseled abs that swept down into the gorgeous V at his hips—and his voice, which was so deep and gruff that I could feel it rumbling through his body as he spoke to me between the sheets, setting me even further on fire. Even the two mid-sized tusks that swept out from his bottom lip were oddly enticing, dangerous and wild-looking, which he was so careful to keep from hurting me with…

Even if I was to ignore all of that, the night would still be unforgettable, he would be unforgettable. There was something about the way we talked, the way we came together, that was different. Something that stuck with me, that I haven't been able to shake. I've never been so powerfully drawn to anyone in my life.

It's been six weeks since I saw him and felt the spark in my heart that spoke of more than just a physical connection, and it frightened me more than anything and sent me running. Ever since things fell apart with my ex-husband, I've made the conscious decision to focus on my career and keep dating out of the picture. It wasn't meant to be for me, my heart isn't able to handle being smashed to bits again. And anyway, there's more to be had out of life than just a relationship.

But the way he looked at me… The way he touched me, spoke to me, lay with me—it triggered something inside. And if that blossomed now, only to shatter at some point in the future, I don't think I'd be able to recover again. I was afraid, and without stopping to think, I just ran.

But now…

Grace re-enters the living room with Lucas firmly attached to her breast and suckling, and I'm hit with a confusing pang of longing, excitement and fear rolled into one.

Now, I have a miraculous problem.

"Fine," my sister grumbles as she sits back down, before carefully picking up her coffee again for a sip. "You made sweet, dirty love to the well-dressed, well-endowed orc god with a man-bun. And then you got his number, right? And he's been showering you with gifts and attention ever since?"

I purse my lips and look into the black depths of my coffee without responding.

"What? No!"

Lucas unlatches and begins crying again, and Grace puts down her coffee to re-attach him, before sending me a hearty glare.

" Ella, " she hisses as quietly as her emotions will allow her. "You self-sabotaged again, didn't you! Oh, my little dumb-dumb…why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

"There's more," I say quietly.

This time she doesn't say anything, and when I look up, it's to see her giving me a serious and considering look, probably noting my uncharacteristic uncertainty.

I'm not quite sure if there's a good way to say it, so I just blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Her mouth pops open again, and the same mixed emotions pass through her eyes that I felt when I found out. Confusion, excitement, fear… "But, I thought the doctors said your chances of ever getting pregnant were—"

"Practically zero, right. But I've been to the clinic to confirm. I'm definitely pregnant, and there's no-one else it could be but him."

"How far along?"

"Six weeks."

"What? How could you wait so long to tell me—"

She takes a deep, slow breath, and tries to compose herself.

"Also," I start, before immediately getting interrupted.

"There's still more?"

"Yes, um…well, it's twins." I take a big gulp of burning liquid to settle my nerves.

"Twins?" she squeaks.

"There are two gestational sacks. I'm having fraternal twins."

"That's…good-bad news?" she says with a confused, scrunched, wildly emotional expression. "That's scary-great? Oh no, congratulations?"

I sigh and flop back into the couch, resting my now empty mug on the arm rest beside me. "I don't know how to feel, either!" I moan.

"Are you…well, I don't know how to say this nicely, so…are you going to keep them?"

I cover my face with my hands. "I want to. I've always wanted a family, you know that. But ever since Peter and I didn't manage it… Ever since he left me because I couldn't conceive, I—"

"Yes, yes, you've sabotaged all other relationships so that you don't ‘waste another man's time' while disregarding your own happiness and dreams—and settled instead for climbing the corporate ladder until you've become one of the most sought-after project managers in the state, all the while still craving a family of your own but lying to yourself about it." I groan into my palms, marveling at my sister's ability to sting me with her words without actually offending me. "Get to the part where you finally gave the sexy green war god a chance to see if this might actually be your happily ever after."

I groan again, louder, and keep my palms over my face.

"You didn't call him?"

"I can't!" I moan, and finally drop my arms. "I don't have his number. I don't know where he lives. I don't even know what industry he works in. All I have is what I assume is a nickname—Rho . Fat load of help that is."

Now it's Grace's turn to moan as she, too, flops back against the couch, although Lucas thankfully keeps suckling away in her arms. "Ella, no , he asked you for your number! How could you betray me like this?"

I snort as I look back at her, all disheveled and in despair, with one boob out and a distraught look on her face as if she's more heartbroken than I am. "We didn't exchange numbers. We had a, um, busy night. And I snuck away in the morning before he woke."

"Ella, nooo…"

" I know, Grace." I look away, pursing my lips again. "For once in my life, I regret it. Because—because I'm going to keep my miracle babies, of course I will. I've been dreaming of this all my life, wishing for a family with all my might. But now I can't find the father. What will I do, google ‘Rho, orc, seven foot tall professional in suit'?"

"Well, you can try, but you'll probably just get some Big Daddy Orc Looking For Love ads and a few kinky websites with green schlongs."

"Oh my god, stop."

She giggles and I mirror her amusement, but we both fall back into a serious sort of quiet pretty quickly.

"I'm scared, Gracie," I admit quietly. "I'm about to be forty, single, and with no experience with kids. Mum and dad are old now, I can't lean on them. What if there are complications with the pregnancy because of our differences? What if his babies are too big for me? I've looked it up and orc babies are huge, I'll probably have to have a C-section, and my brain has been looping through every possible medical issue that could come up ever since I found out. Did you know that orc gestation is ten months long? But how long will it be with me? I can't find anything online about what to expect with half-orc babies. Mixed human-fae births are rare enough that I'm struggling to find any information at all. I'm panicking, I can't do this alone—"

"First of all, you've got me." She says firmly, interrupting my negative thoughts. And staring at her determined face, I feel my panic ease just a little. "I'm always

going to be there for you. And if you can't find your orc, then he's just your lucky sperm donor, and you'll be the best mixed-species mom in the world. You can even stay here if you want. Whatever you need, we're going to do this together."

"I couldn't intrude on you and Brad."

Grace looks away suddenly. "Brad has been…he's not at home much anymore, he's practically always out looking for work. You'd only see him at night, you wouldn't be in the way."

I notice the disappointment in her eyes and try to lift her spirits. "I mean, that's a good thing though, right?" I've tried not to give my opinion since Grace seemed happy with his company while she worked from home, but I'd always thought he needed to do more. I'd never seen him do anything but occasionally play with Lucas. "If he's finally going to get a job so he can help with the finances…"

She shakes her head. "It's been six months and he still hasn't found anything, don't you think that's a bit odd? And he's been acting weird, I…I don't know, it's probably just in my head."

I bite my lip and reach for her, and she sighs, before forcibly perking up.

"Listen," she says, waving the topic of Brad away with a flick of her wrist. "This isn't about me right now, this is about you. And how awesome you're going to be. And how amazing I'm going to be as the beautiful and wise co-parenting aunt. And how you're going to have the most incredible half orc children and I can't believe you're having twins by the way…"

I feel a shaky smile stretch across my lips, and I sit up again, resting my elbows on my knees and dropping my face between my palms. "Ugh, Grace, I'm so freaking excited and so freaking terrified at the same time. There are so many complications, not least of all the fact that there's like zero fae-friendly facilities around here. What if my babies need things that I don't know how to give? Or that this community doesn't provide?"

"Ella, baby, I don't want you to panic." Grace leans across the coffee table, reaching her hand towards me, and I grab it tightly. "We're driving distance from Salt Lake, and there's plenty of fae living there. Hell, you drive there every other day for work. If you need anything during your pregnancy or birth or afterwards, we can get it."

"But what if they grow up here feeling like outsiders, like they don't belong? They'll be the only orcs, there's no-one else here, but that one pixie—"

She squeezes my fingers hard, and I press my lips shut.

"We'll figure it out, as it comes. Don't jump too far ahead to things you can't know. One step at a time. You've got this. And I've got you."

I feel tears sting the back of my eyes, and I can't tell if it's from fear, or relief from hearing her words of support. Maybe both.

"You've got this," she repeats, and I square my shoulders.

"I've got this."