Page 45 of The Orc and the Innkeeper

Ecco reaches across the table, resting her hand on mine. “Mariah, honey. From what I’ve seen, that orc is completely smitten with you. Don’t let your fears make you blind to what’s right in front of you.”

Just as I open my mouth to respond, I catch a snatch of conversation from the next table over. A group of witches clutch mismatched teacups and nibble on scones. Their voices carry in the tiny space.

“Did you hear? Ygra’s back in town,” one of them says, clearly reveling in the gossip.

My heart seizes painfully.

“I heard she and Thorak are getting back together,” another witch chimes in. “They always made such a natural couple.”

My fingers tighten around my mug until my knuckles turn white. The doubts that had been receding suddenly solidify again, sharp and painful.

Ecco, bless her, immediately notices my distress. “Ignore them,” she says firmly, squeezing my hand. “Gossiping harpies, the lot of them.”

I know she’s right. I force myself to take a deep breath and unclench my jaw. But in the back of my mind, I worry the damage isn’t so easily undone. The seed of doubt has been planted, and I fear it will take more than Ecco’s reassurances to uproot it.

Well, then. I don’t have to sit around and wait for a sign. I resolve to go talk to Thorak immediately after Ecco and I leave The Enchanted Bean. The decision takes just a smidge of the tension from my shoulders.

“Enough about that. Tell me about you,” I say, leaning in. “How are you feeling about the gigs at the inn?”

I setoff towards Thorak’s house with single-minded intention, my steps quick and purposeful—and perhaps fueled by a cup too much of coffee, if I’m honest.

The words I’m going to say to him play on a loop in my mind.

I’ll tell him that I want to define our relationship, to be open with everyone about it. It’s fast, but our past is screwing with my head, and I’ve realized that I need certainty about what we’re doing.

No more ambiguity.

But when I near his stone cottage, I see a figure emerging from the front door.

My stomach twists as I recognize Ygra’s statuesque form. She’s walking Thorak’s teacup boar, Snuffles, who trots happily at her feet, his adorable little hooves tapping merrily on the pavement.

Snuffles is a tiny thing, barely reaching Ygra’s ankles. His glossy black fur gleams in the sunlight, his little pink snout twitching as he snuffles along the ground. I’d appreciate his cuteness more if I didn’t want to throw up at the sight of the giantess walking him.

If Ygra is nothing to worry about and she and Thorak are truly over…

What is she doing here at his home, walking his pet?

Ygra spots me and waves, her easy smile as bright as the sun. “Maria! How lovely to see you,” she calls out, butchering my name.

I force my own smile, taking a deep breath. “It’s Mariah, actually,” I correct her, my voice strained.

“Of course, silly me,” Ygra laughs, waving a dismissive hand. “Thank you for all your help with Thor’s deal. We both so appreciate you.”

Each kind word is like a dagger to my chest, her friendly demeanor only heightening my discomfort. What does she mean they both appreciate me?

Have they beentalkingabout me? Together?

Ygra lifts her hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and I can’t control the gasp I let out.

There’s an ornate engagement ring on her ring finger.

It’s a stunning piece, clearly ancient and valuable. The gems catch the light, casting a kaleidoscope of colors. Ygra sees me looking at it and smiles, holding out her hand for a better view.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it? It’s an Ironfist family heirloom,” she explains, her voice tinged with pride.

The words punch me in the gut.

Why the hell is Ygra wearing Thorak’s family heirloom engagement ring? My mind goes blank, filled with the buzz of panic.

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