Page 65 of Till Orc Do Us Part
We sit there, two shadows against the dark sea.
I see beneath the armor.
And I know—this man does not fight because he wants more.
He fights because he cannot bear to lose again.
I draw a shaky breath. “And now you’re fighting for this place.”
“For more than this place,” he says softly. “For the right to choose something that is not profit. To protect what should endure.”
I blink hard.
“And for you.”
The words settle deep.
I close my eyes a moment.
Then look at him.
“I don’t know if I can trust this,” I admit. “Or you.”
“I do not ask you to,” he says. “Only to let me prove it.”
The waves break and fall again, their song older than either of us.
I take a long breath.
“I can’t promise more than that,” I say.
His mouth curves, slow and real. “Then it is enough.”
We sit side by side, the tide creeping closer.
For the first time in weeks, the weight in my chest eases.
Not gone, but less alone.
And maybe that’s a start.
The tide’s lull pulls at me, slow and soft as breath.
We sit side by side on the driftwood log, shoulders nearly touching. The cool night air settles against my skin, but I’m not cold.
Not anymore.
I glance at him—his profile etched in silver light, jaw set, eyes distant but steady. The weight he carries is no longer invisible.
And neither is mine.
I don’t think. I just…move.
I reach for his hand where it rests on his knee. My fingers find his, warm and rough and still.
He looks at me then—truly looks. And this time, there is no guarded edge, no looming pull of power or control.
Only him.
