Page 33 of The Orc and the Innkeeper

MARIAH

The warm morning light streams through the stained glass windows in the inn’s lobby, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the reception desk. I absently trace my fingers over the shapes, my mind a thousand miles away from here.

I barely slept last night, my mind at war. Half of me wanted to run back to Thorak and finish what we’d started, and the other half of me was screaming to bury myself under my pillows and never reemerge.

In the moment, I believed every word he was saying—especially given hismethodof expressing his remorse. And the sensations he evoked inside of me…well, I’d say it was about the closest I’ve ever gotten to wielding magic myself.

But the minute we were interrupted, the spell was broken. All of our history came rushing back.

Even still, though, the taste of Thorak still lingers on my lips, the memory of his strong hands gripping my hips as his tongue?—

Ugh, Mariah. Get a grip.

I put my forehead down on the desk and close my eyes. Take a deep breath, and then another.

We’ll have our verdict from Kingsley soon and then I’ll be able to get some space from Thorak and…figure out what I’m feeling. For now, I just need to ignore my raging hormones and get through this.

Just then, the front door swings open. I glance up to find Thorak striding in purposefully, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him.

So much for ignoring my hormones.

“We need to talk,” he says in a low, serious voice as he approaches. I get another instant flashback to last night and the sinfully delicious growl of his voice as he murmured apologies into my core.

I nod slowly, swallowing back the nerves fluttering in my stomach as I step out from behind the desk.

Leading him to a quiet alcove off the main lobby, I sit on the edge of an overstuffed loveseat, chewing my lip anxiously.

Thorak sits down opposite me, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “About last night,” he begins hesitantly. “I just wanted to say?—”

“Thorak, wait,” I cut him off, my voice wavering slightly. “I’m not sure I’m ready to have this conversation.”

His brow furrows in confusion as he looks at me searchingly. “What do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentle but probing.

I sigh heavily, running a hand through my hair in agitation.

“This whole thing between us,” I say, gesturing vaguely in the space between our bodies. “I didn’t want this kind of romantic complication in my life. I need more time to think about this.”

Thorak is silent, his expression pensive as he seems to mull over my words. Then slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out and takes my hand in his much larger one, his calloused skin warm and somehow reassuring against my own.

My breath catches at his touch.

“Mariah,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that I can feel in my bones. “I’m aware this is unexpected. For both of us. But I need you to know that what happened between us wasn’t just physical for me.”

I have to fight the urge to yank my hand away, to run from the intensity in his gaze. A battle rages inside me—the primal desire to surrender to the undeniable pull between us, and the self-protective instinct to guard my battered heart behind impenetrable walls.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. What can I possibly say? That a huge part of me wants to crawl into his lap and have his arms around me again?

That the bigger, wiser part is terrified of risking the fragile peace I’ve found for myself on a man who once bullied me mercilessly?

Thorak seems to sense my inner turmoil. He squeezes my hand gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my knuckles.

“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to catch my gaze. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now. I just...I wanted you to know where I stand. That this means something to me.Youmean something to me, Mariah. And if you decide you don’t want something romantic with me, that’s okay. I’d like to be in your life and I’ll take that role in whatever way works best for you.”

Tears sting behind my eyes and I blink rapidly, determined not to let them fall.

Thorak stands and gives my hand one last gentle squeeze before releasing it.

“I should go.” His deep voice is rough with pent-up emotion. “But, Mariah, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

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