3. Serenity

Serenity

I turn back toward Agis with the whiskey glasses, trying not to stare at his massive form on my bed. The sight of those rippling muscles and tattoos makes my mouth go dry, so I focus on Mom's writing desk instead.

My fingers trace the familiar lemon-polished surface as I set down the glasses. "My parents were amazing people," I say as I pick up a photo to distract myself from how his massive size dominates the small cabin. "Mom could name every bird by its call. Dad knew these mountains better than anyone."

Remembering my task, I set down the photo and pick up the whiskey bottle and pour the alcohol with slightly trembling hands, very aware of how his gaze feels like a physical touch on my skin. "They met on a rescue mission—Mom got stuck on a ledge trying to save an injured eagle. Dad climbed up to help." The familiar story helps steady my racing pulse, though I can't help noticing how the firelight plays across his green skin.

"They built this place from nothing." I take a steadying breath and try not to think about those tusks and what they might feel like against my neck. "Spent every penny they had. People thought they were crazy, protecting wildlife out here."

A shift of movement draws my eyes back to Agis. He's very carefully not looking at me, but the blanket in his lap does nothing to hide his arousal. My words trail off as heat floods my cheeks. Dear god, is that all him? He's proportional everywhere, apparently. I quickly take a large swallow of whiskey, trying to cool the fire building under my skin.

My hands grow sweaty on the glasses, but I hand one to him and say, "Sorry, I'm rambling. It's just... the accident report never made sense. They were obsessive about safety. Mom checked every piece of equipment herself. Dad triple-checked her work."

I wipe my damp palms on my jeans, the fire suddenly too warm. "The investigator said the rope showed signs of chemical degradation, but that's impossible. They'd just bought new gear that week. I found the receipt."

After taking a sip of my whiskey, I set it down and pick up Mom's notebook. "She documented everything. The week before they died, she wrote about someone tampering with the equipment shed. The locks were broken. Dad said it was probably kids, but..."

I swallow hard. "It was right after they refused to sell to Ethan. Mom never trusted him. She said he had hungry eyes."

Our gazes finally meet and everything else falls away. I can't breathe. There's something so right about him that I find myself moving closer without conscious thought.

The size of him, barely hidden by the blanket, should send me running. There's no way something that large could fit in a human body—in my body. But instead of fear, I feel a deep, primal hunger.

I down my whiskey and let it burn away my grief and hesitation. “I’m sorry I’ve been babbling on about my parents and myself.”

He smiles, and somehow it makes me feel more relaxed. “It’s okay, Ser-en-ity,” he says carefully. “Family is important, and yours meant a lot to you.”

I nod. “But enough about that. Tell me something about you.”

He looks flustered and doesn’t answer, taking a swallow of whiskey instead.

So I blurt out the first thing I can think of, "What is a mate?" He and Talon had talked about it in the Center like it was something amazing.

"What does it mean to an orc?" I clarify when he stays silent.

Talon and Jenna got together so fast, and now she’s pregnant. Part of me envies their certainty. Is it because of this mate bond?

He drinks deeply from the glass of whiskey and then pauses. "A mate is what humans call a soulmate. Someone the universe means you to be with, who you're completely devoted to."

The intensity in his voice makes me shiver. I perch on the bed beside him, hyper-aware of the heat of his skin. "How do you know? How do you know someone is your mate?"

"I just do." His voice has dropped an octave.

"And if you're mated, you just love them?"

"Not just love." His breathing grows heavy. "Our bodies crave each other. We go into a frenzy... until we can claim them."

Wetness pools between my legs and the air feels charged with electricity. "And it's like that always?"

"Yes." He throws back his drink. "Another."

Instead of refilling his glass, I lay my hand on his thigh. Hard muscle jumps under my touch. "Do orcs ever just have sex? With someone not their mate?"

"Yes," he says roughly, "but only before finding their mate. Afterward, they exist only for each other."

Heat and whiskey make me bold. "Would you like to have sex with me?"

"No." The growl reverberates through me.

I blink, stung. "What?" His obvious arousal contradicts his words.

"No, Ser-en-ity." He surges to his feet and grabs the whiskey bottle. Before I can process what's happening, he's out the door.

I chase after him, but he vanishes into the darkness. How can someone so massive move so quietly?

I sag against the doorframe, confusion warring with desire. The night air cools my heated skin, but does nothing for the ache between my legs.

Mom's notebook lies forgotten on the floor where I dropped it. I pick it up gently, smoothing the pages. They would have liked Agis, I think. They always said I needed someone strong enough to match my stubbornness.

But was it something I said? Or did he feel it too—that overwhelming rightness that terrifies as much as it thrills?

The mate bond that Talon and Jenna share suddenly makes more sense. That pull, that certainty...

I press my forehead against the cool door frame and close my eyes. Mom always said to trust my instincts.

Right now, every instinct I have is screaming that Agis is mine.