Page 52 of The Orc and the Innkeeper

It’s like a piece of me is missing, carved out and left hollow.

Snuffles lifts his head, his bright eyes meeting mine. He lets out a gentle squeal, nudging my hand with his snout.

His message is clear: time to stop your moping, you big green lug.

“You’re right, boy,” I sigh, my voice gravelly from disuse. “It’s time for me to get my shit together.”

I heave myself up off the couch, Snuffles hopping down beside me. I start with the dishes, piling them into the sink and turning on the faucet. As the hot water runs over my hands, the fog in my mind starts to clear, like cobwebs being swept away.

Next, I tackle the living room, scooping up dirty laundry and tossing it into a basket. I right an overturned lamp, straighten the crooked wall hangings.

Slowly but surely, my space begins to look like a home again instead of a disaster zone.

Snuffles trots over to me, a discarded sock dangling from his mouth. I chuckle as I bend to take it from him, scratching behind his ears.

“Thanks for the help, buddy,” I murmur. “And for sticking by me through all of this.”

He snorts in response, butting his head against my hand.

I toss my grungy t-shirt in the hamper and pull on a freshly laundered henley, the clean cotton a welcome change. Then, I stride toward the bathroom to clean myself up. The beard trimmer hums as I run it over my overgrown scruff, the vibrations oddly soothing against my skin. Tufts of dark hair rain down into the sink. I stare at my reflection, meeting my own eyes.

There’s a clarity there I haven’t seen in days.

And I no longer look like a heartbroken slob, even if I still feel like one inside.

It’s a start.

With a sigh, I realize what I must do next.

It’s time to go finally deal with my parents. I can’t undo the damage that’s already been done, but I’ll be damned if I let my family’s prejudices dictate my future any longer. I need to have an honest conversation with them, lay it all out on the table.

For Mariah, for myself, for any chance we might still have together—I have to try.

I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not without a fight.

The entrance to my parents’home looms before me, the roughly hewn stone archway suddenly far more foreboding than welcoming. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, then cross the threshold into the cavernous foyer.

“Thorak!” Ma’s voice rings out, her footsteps echoing off the high ceilings as she hurries towards me. “What a nice surpri?—”

She stops short, her eyes widening as she takes in my expression. I’m in no mood for pleasantries. Da emerges from the sitting room, his posture rigid. There’s a wariness in both their faces that sets my teeth on edge.

“Son.” Da inclines his head stiffly. “To what do we owe the...pleasure?”

My gaze darts between them, noting the way Ma’s hands twist nervously and how Da’s brow furrows even deeper than usual. Realization strikes me like a blow to the stomach.

“Ygra’s been here, hasn’t she?” My voice comes out low and accusing. “Returning the ring you never should’ve given her.”

Ma opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand, cutting her off.

“I’ll tell you what I told Ygra. She and I? We’re done. Over. And I have zero interest in changing that, no matter what schemes you two cook up with her.”

I start to pace, my agitation growing with each step.

“Meddling in my love life, in my relationship with Ygra, was completely out of line. Especially since you had just heard me say that I was engaged to Mariah.” I jab a finger at them for emphasis. “I’m an adult in control of my own life. I’ll be with who I want to be with. And right now? That’s not Ygra. It’s Mariah.”

Ma’s eyes widen at the mention of Mariah, while Da’s face hardens into a scowl. Their disapproval practically radiates off them in waves.

Da steps forward, his expression stern. “You can’t be serious, son. What would this mean for our family, for our legacy? Don’t ruin everything over a human.”

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