Page 4 of Charming the Orc's Mate

TORAIN

My whole world shifted on a harsh puff of air.

One heartbeat, I was just picking up my latest order of woodworking books. They weren’t the same as training under a master carver, but they pushed my skills nonetheless. And with my brother still finding his footing as chief and mated orc, I couldn’t even think of leaving for an apprenticeship.

Then her scent hit me—cinnamon and vanilla andmine.

Mate.

The word thundered through my blood like an avalanche. My fingers itched to touch her, to verify she was real and not another lonely fantasy. To see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

Damn. How many years had it been? Eighteen? Nineteen? She’d grown into those eyes that used to peek over the top of the massive books she picked after blazing through the summer reading program’s selections.

“You two know each other?” Molly’s gaze bounced between us like a tennis match.

“Yes,” I said.

Carrie’s words trampled over mine. “Old acquaintances.”

Gone was the quiet girl who shared her cookies, though that stubborn chin lift hadn’t changed. The severe bun only drew attention to the elegant line of her throat. And that snappy little skirt and blazer combo...

I wanted to mess up every perfectly arranged inch of her.

“Right…” Molly dragged out the word. “Well, your order isn’t in yet. But Carrie here might?—”

“It’s Carissa,” she bit out again.

I blinked, struggling to process. Carrie—no,Carissa—was my mate. How many nights had I swiped through MythMatch, searching for what my brother found? And now here she stood, glaring like she wanted to stab someone with her stilettos. Probably me, given how I stared.

“Carissa.” I tried the name out, tasting its shape. Precise. Elegant. Nothing like the mess surrounding us. “It suits you.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to decide if I was mocking her. I wasn’t.

“I apologize for the delay with your order, Torain. Things are a bit...” Her fingers fluttered over a stack of papers. “...disorganized at the moment.”

“No rush.” I leaned against the counter, trying to appear casual while my entire being screamed to be closer. “You need time to get caught up, that’s fine.”

She spun toward Molly, who still watched the exchange with rapt interest. “Put down the coffee and help me clear space for seating.” Carissa’s voice cracked like a whip. “We can shift the couches, but these books need to be shelved first. And every night before we close, yes?”

“Jana wasn’t kidding about the micromanaging.” Molly’s grumble carried perfectly to my sensitive ears. But she grabbed a pile of books and slouched upstairs, leaving her iced coffee sweating rings on the counter.

I trailed after Carissa as she moved through the store like a tiny tornado of organization in heels, straightening books and gathering scattered papers. The tight skirt restricted her stride, forcing smaller steps that only hypnotized me with the sway of her hips. My fingers itched to grab them, to feel if they fit my hands as perfectly as instinct screamed they would.

“I can’t believe—” I caught myself before my voice could boom through the quiet store again. I cleared my throat and forced my eyes up to safer territory. “You’re actually here. Last I heard you were in Seattle?”

“Yes, well.” She straightened her blazer, and my hands clenched with the need to pull her close. “Things change.”

Yeah, things changed. Father’s empty chair at the dinner table. The way Osen sometimes stared at where he’d stand to think through the latest problem the clan laid at his feet. The half-finished carvings in his workshop I couldn’t bring myself to complete.

“I heard about your aunt,” I said softly. “I’m sorry. Mags meant a lot to this place.”

Her hands stilled on a leather-bound volume. “Thank you. I... I should have been here sooner.”

“Sometimes timing just doesn’t work out.” The words tasted bitter with memory. The letter from Master Iazra still sat unopened in my workshop drawer, arrived the day after we burned Father’s body. “The plans that seemed so important the morning my father died were forgotten by that night.”

“Oh.” She glanced up, genuine sympathy softening her edges for a moment. “Torain, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well.” I shrugged, trying to ignore how my name sounded on her tongue. “Things change, right?”

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