Page 76 of Torgash

Something softens in his expression. "You know why."

And I do. The knowledge has been there since Hammer's call, since the moment I understood what Ash had done. I just haven't been ready to name it.

"Say it," I challenge him, needing to hear it aloud. "Tell me why you did it."

His hands clench once, then relax. "Because you fought alone long enough. Because Carman deserved justice. Because I promised."

"Those are reasons. Not the reason."

His gaze burns into mine. "Because I love you. Have since you pulled a gun on me in a diner parking lot. Will until they put me in the ground."

The confession lands hard. Three words that terrify me more than anything Royce ever threatened.

"That's not—" I shake my head. "You don't know me. Not really."

"I know exactly who you are, Nova Reyes." He steps closer, eliminating the remaining distance between us. His massive frame dwarfs mine, skin the color of pine needles stark against the white office walls. One tusk slightly chipped from some long-ago fight. "Stubborn. Righteous. Too damn brave for your own good. Willing to burn yourself to the ground if it means getting justice for someone else."

His hand rises, hovers near my face without touching. "I know you push people away because letting them close means risking loss. Know you'd rather sacrifice yourself than ask for help."

His voice drops lower. "And I know that scares the hell out of you—someone seeing all the broken parts and staying anyway."

"You left," I remind him, the accusation weak even to my own ears.

"I stepped back. There's a difference." He doesn't look away. "Gave you the space to choose. To decide if what we started was worth fighting for."

"And if I choose to walk away?" The question is barely a whisper.

"Then you walk away." His voice roughens. "But you get the choice this time. No manipulations, no sacrifices, no noble bullshit about protecting each other."

Three months ago, I left to protect him. Now he's asking me to stay. To choose him instead of running.

"I don't know how to do this," I admit. The confession costs more than I expected.

"Neither do I." His honesty is unexpected, disarming. "But I'm willing to figure it out if you are."

His hand finally makes contact, callused fingers brushing my cheek with impossible gentleness. The touch breaks somethingloose inside me—a dam I've been maintaining since the police knocked on my door, since I learned how dangerous it is to love someone in a world that takes without mercy.

I lean into his palm, closing my eyes briefly against the rush of feeling. When I open them again, his gaze is steady on mine, waiting for an answer I'm not sure I know how to give.

But I know how to show it.

I close the final distance between us and press my mouth to his.

Epilogue

Nova

The needle slides through fabric, securing another button to Ash's sheriff uniform shirt. The third one this week. At this rate, I'm going to have to buy buttons in bulk—his shoulders keep outgrowing the standard-issue uniforms.

"Hold still," I mutter, perched on the kitchen counter while Ash stands between my knees, patient as granite but radiating warmth. His palms rest on my thighs, thumbs tracing lazy circles that make it hard to concentrate on anything except the way he's watching my mouth. "Unless you want to walk into the town council meeting with your chest hanging out."

"Might make the budget discussion more interesting," he says, those golden eyes dancing with amusement.

"Helen would have a heart attack." I bite through the thread and examine my handiwork, but my focus keeps drifting to the way his shirt strains across his chest, the badge sitting crooked against fabric that's fighting a losing battle. "There. That should hold until your next growth spurt."

"Orcs don't have growth spurts after thirty-five."

"Tell that to your shoulders." I smooth the shirt over his chest, fingers deliberately tracing the outline of muscle beneath the crisp fabric. His breath catches, and I file that reaction away for later use.

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