Chapter 11

11

MARIAH

K ingsley heads out and I turn to face Thorak. Gone is his usual confident smirk, replaced now by a somber, almost vulnerable expression that catches me off guard. He takes a deep breath, his striking eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken.

"Mariah, I..." His deep voice is low and earnest, tinged with an unfamiliar hesitancy. "I want to apologize. Properly. For how I treated you growing up."

I blink in surprise, my mind struggling to process his words. Is this really happening? An apology, after all these years?

He forges ahead, refusing to break eye contact. "I'm not going to make excuses for my behavior. Nothing can justify the pain I caused you." Thorak swallows hard, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. "I was an asshole. A complete and utter asshole. I'm not that guy anymore, and for years, it's eaten away at me, knowing the suffering I inflicted on you."

Tears sting my eyes as I listen in stunned silence. I never expected this—never thought Thorak would dredge up our painful history, let alone acknowledge the hurt that still simmers beneath the surface. But the genuine remorse shining in his eyes, how his usual gruffness has given way to raw sincerity...it shows me just how much he's grown.

How much he's changed.

"Thank you," I manage to whisper, my voice soft and unsteady. "For the apology. I...I appreciate it."

Thorak nods, a flicker of relief crossing his face. I try to sort through my jumble of emotions—the lingering resentment, the budding warmth, the undeniable attraction that seems to grow stronger with each passing moment.

I wanted to keep things simple between us, a straightforward business arrangement with no messy feelings involved.

But now? With the memory of our searing kiss still fresh in my mind, the way my body responded so eagerly to his touch, and this heartfelt apology adding a new layer of complexity... maintaining that clear-cut separation is getting harder by the second.

My head spins with doubts and questions as the careful walls around my heart begin to crack and crumble. I'm losing my grip on the defenses I've so meticulously built.

Just as I'm about to speak again, Thorak slides a small box across the table towards me. I look at him in confusion, but he just nods encouragingly, urging me to open it.

With trembling fingers, I lift the lid and gasp at what I see inside.

Nestled on a bed of black velvet is a delicate silver chain with a familiar, intricately carved pendant. The pendant is a beautiful, iridescent stone that seems to glow with an inner light, catching the rays of the sun streaming through the window and scattering them in a dazzling display of color. It's breathtaking, and for a moment, I'm speechless.

I thought this was lost forever.

As I stare at the necklace, my mind is flooded with memories.

I remember the day my grandmother gave it to me, the words she said as she fastened it around my neck. "This has been in our family for generations," she'd told me, her voice soft and full of emotion. "I want you to have it, Mariah. To remember that no matter what, you always have a piece of us with you."

My fingers tremble as I lift the necklace from the box, the cool metal both foreign and achingly familiar against my skin.

The happy memory is quickly overshadowed by a darker one, a moment from high school that I've tried so hard to forget.

I was walking down the hallway, the necklace glinting at my throat, when suddenly Thorak's friend Zara appeared in front of me, a cruel sneer twisting her beautiful face.

"Well, well, well," she drawled, her violet eyes glinting with malice. "What do we have here?"

Before I could react, she reached out and grabbed the necklace, yanking it roughly from my neck. I cried out in pain and shock, my hand flying to my throat as I tried to stop her. But she was too fast, dangling the necklace in front of my face with a vicious smirk.

"This is what you call jewelry?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's nothing but a cheap, tacky piece of human trash."

I felt hot tears stinging my eyes as I watched helplessly, unable to stop her as she threw the necklace to the floor and ground it under her boot. The crunch of metal and stone was like a physical blow, and I felt like a piece of myself had been destroyed along with the necklace.

"Oops," Zara said with mock innocence, brushing her hands together as if to wipe away the evidence of what she'd done. "How clumsy of me."

She turned and walked away, leaving me standing there crying in the hallway. Through my tears, I saw Thorak standing nearby, watching the whole thing unfold.

My stomach churned with the sickening certainty that he orchestrated this, that he was reveling in my pain and humiliation.

I turned and ran, my chest heaving with sobs as I fled down the hallway. The fluorescent lights blurred and spun around me, and I could barely see where I was going. My throat burned with shame and anguish, the broken pieces of my necklace—and my heart—left shattered on the linoleum behind me.

"That moment with Zara was a turning point for me," Thorak says now, his deep voice wavering with emotion. "I've never gotten that look on your face out of my mind. I realized then that things had gone too far. The cruelty, the bullying—it needed to stop."

All I can do is listen, my mind reeling as I try to process his words. Thorak's gaze is heavy with regret as he speaks, haunted by the weight of his past actions.

"You kept the pieces?" I ask. "All these years?"

"I did," he confesses, his voice cracking. "After you ran away, I gathered them up, every last shard. And then I spent countless hours mending the chain and pendant."

He traces a large finger over the intricate carvings on the stone, his gaze distant as if lost in memory. "I used every bit of skill I had, all the orcish craftsmanship I could muster, to restore it to its former beauty."

In that moment, I truly see the man he has become—a man striving to fix what he had broken, in more ways than one.

"I did it for you, Mariah," he says softly, earnestly. "To try to make things right, even if I didn't know how to tell you back then. Fixing this necklace, it was my way of promising myself that one day, I would find a way to mend the hurt I caused you, too."

Each word hits me like a revelation. Thorak kept my necklace. He painstakingly pieced it back together, pouring his heart into restoring this precious item.

And he did it all for me.

He gently takes the necklace from my hands and moves around behind me, threading it around my neck and closing the clasp.

I struggle to find my voice, my throat tight with a swell of emotions I can't even begin to untangle. Everything I thought I knew about Thorak, every assumption and resentment, is unraveling in the face of this heartfelt confession.

With a shaking hand, I reach out and touch the pendant where it rests against my skin. The stone is warm, pulsing with a gentle, soothing energy that seems to emanate from its very core. It's like a missing part of my soul has been returned to me, the jagged edges of my old wounds finally starting to heal.

"I don't know what to say," I whisper.

Thorak reaches out and takes my hand in his, his palm rough and warm against my skin. "You don't have to say anything," he murmurs. "Just know that I'm sorry, more than I can ever express. And I will do anything in my power to prove it to you. I hope we can have a fresh start."

It's a strange kind of magic, this: the power of sincere words spoken by someone you never thought capable of them.

I nod, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat. "Okay, Thorak. Fresh start," I murmur, feeling the weight of our shared history shift into something that's almost like...anticipation.

The next morning, I meet up with Ecco at our favorite boutique in town. She needs a new dress for her next performance at the inn tomorrow, and I need something to wear for Kingsley's visit to the taproom tonight.

Ecco pulls a sleek, forest green dress from the rack and holds it up to me, humming with approval. "This would look stunning with your coloring," she gushes.

An unwanted thought races through me: what would Thorak think of me in that? My hand drifts unconsciously to the necklace at my throat, my fingers tracing the delicate carvings that he spent so many hours restoring.

Ecco's gaze follows my movements, and suddenly, her eyes widen with recognition. "Wait a minute," she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Is that...?"

I nod, my throat tightening with emotion as I remember how Thorak's hands trembled as he fastened the chain around my neck, his eyes shining as he spoke of his efforts to mend what he had broken.

"He kept it all these years," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "After Zara destroyed it, he gathered up all the pieces and spent hours putting it back together."

Ecco's eyes mist over as she listens, her hands clasped to her chest. "Oh, Mariah," she sighs. "I was skeptical of his intentions by agreeing to this deal but I think I was wrong. Don't you see? He's been in love with you this whole time."

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens at her words. "It's not like that," I insist. "He's just guilty for how he treated me in the past. This is his way of making amends."

But even as I say it, doubt creeps in at the edges of my certainty. The way Thorak looks at me when he thinks I'm not watching, the gentle brushes of his hand against mine that linger just a moment too long...could there be more to his feelings than just guilt and regret?

Ecco seems to sense my hesitation. She takes my hands in hers, looking at me with a knowing intensity.

"Mariah," she says softly. "I've known you for years, and I've never seen you light up the way you do when you're talking about him. There could be something special there, something real and powerful. Don't let your fear of the past keep you from embracing the future."

I swallow hard, trying not to let her words affect me. Ecco's a hopeless romantic who is forever unlucky in love. She picks the wrong men and leaps after any inclination of her heart. She's not someone I should be taking dating advice from.

But…what if she's right?

I try to push the thought away, looking back to the dress in front of me.

"You should try it on," Ecco urges, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I bet Thorak would love to see you in that dress."

Gods, can she read my mind?

I shoot her a look, trying to summon up my usual sarcasm, but the words die on my lips. Because deep down, I know she's right. I want Thorak to see me in this dress. I want to take his breath away, to make his pulse race the way mine does every time he's near.

Before I can second-guess myself, I snatch the dress from the rack and head for the fitting room. As I slide the silk over my skin, I imagine Thorak's reaction. The way his eyes would darken with desire, the way his hands would skim over my curves, pulling me close against his broad, muscular chest...

I emerge from the fitting room in a daze, my cheeks flushed and my pulse pounding. Ecco takes one look at me and grins, her expression equal parts knowing and delighted.

"Oh, honey," she breathes. "You look absolutely stunning. Thorak won't know what hit him."

I glance at my reflection in the nearby mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at me. The dress clings to my body like a second skin.

But it's the look in my own eyes that takes my breath away. It's raw, unbridled desire.

As I turn back to Ecco, my heart racing and my mind spinning, I know that everything is about to change. For better or for worse, Thorak has gotten under my skin in a way I never could have predicted.

And now, there's no turning back.