Page 17 of Charming the Orc's Mate

I nodded, properly chastised. The weight of clan expectations pressed down, making it hard to breathe. I’d make it right with the mayor somehow, but Tate could get fucked if he thought he could mess with my mate. Even if Carissa didn’t know she was mine yet.

A flash of white-blonde hair caught my eye. Miranda gave me a sympathetic look over Osen’s shoulder before returning to her herbs. At least someone understood the need to defend mate and territory.

The morning crawled by in a haze of fake smiles and practiced sales pitches. My hands moved through familiar motions while my mind circled back to Carissa. Was she okay? Had Tate tried anything else? The need to check on her clawed at my chest.

“Great, you’re manning the booth.” Galan’s sneering voice broke through my brooding. “This afternoon just got worse.”

I bit back a growl. Just what I needed—more shit from my perpetually pissy cousin. “You’re not supposed to be here for another hour.”

“Thought I’d come early.” He inspected the display with exaggerated care. “Make sure everything was ready. You know how you are with deadlines.”

The dig struck deeper than he knew. I’d spent the night bent over my workbench, trying to carve away thoughts of Carissa’s hasty exit from the bar. About failing her when she needed backup. About letting my carelessness ruin everything.

Again.

“Your piece is done.” I nodded toward the wrapped carving without meeting his eyes.

“Three days early?” Galan’s laugh held no warmth. “I padded that deadline by a week, figuring you’d need the extra time to dream up excuses.”

Because I wasn’t reliable. I forgot commitments. Didn’t follow through. Couldn’t even defend my mate without putting the clan in jeopardy.

“It’s done,” I repeated through clenched teeth.

“Huh.” He lifted the piece, turning it in the morning light. His perpetual scowl deepened as he searched for flaws. “Miracles do happen.”

My hands clenched. One more smart comment and I’d show him exactly how much damage these “lazy” hands could do.

A plaintive meow drew my attention. Gus stared up at me, tail twitching impatiently.

“I’m taking lunch.” I grabbed my jacket before temptation won. “Try not to fuck up the booth while I’m gone.”

“Enjoy your afternoon delight!” Miranda’s voice sang out as I passed her stall.

I shot her a one-fingered salute without looking back. Her bright laughter mixed with Osen’s deeper chuckle as I lost myself in the market crowd.

But maybe a walk would clear my head. Help me figure out how to fix things with Carissa without pushing too hard or too fast. Because one taste wasn’t enough. I needed more.

I needed everything.

The bell chimed as I pushed through the door of Spines & Spirits. Carissa’s scent hit me first—vanilla and cinnamon layered with stress. She stood behind the counter, fingers flying over a calculator. Her hair had escaped its severe bun in wisps that caught the afternoon light.

Beautiful. And completely focused on her task until the sound of my boots on hardwood made her head snap up.

“Oh!” A blush stained her cheeks as her pulse jumped. The hint of cinnamon in her scent spiked with something warm and sweet before she schooled her features into professional blankness. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I wanted to check on you.” I kept my distance, though every instinct screamed to close the gap between us. “After everything with Tate.”

“I’m fine.” Her spine went rigid, voice holding nothing of the playful warmth of our date. But her eyes lingered on my arms, my chest, before darting away. “Just busy.”

The phone’s shrill ring cut through the awkward silence. Molly emerged from between the stacks, phone already pressed to her ear.

“Spines and Spirits, how can I help you?” She bobbed her head as she listened, then grimaced. “One moment please.” She held out the receiver. “It’s for the owner.”

Carissa’s shoulders tensed. “Carissa Morton speaking.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I understand, but if you’ll check your records, we had an arrangement—” Another pause, a shiftyglance toward me and Molly, and she was on the move. “No, that won’t be necessary. I fully intend?—”

She disappeared upstairs into the office, closing the door with a sharp click.

“That’s like, the fifth call today.” Molly slumped against the counter. “Pretty sure they’re all angry vendors wanting money.”

---