Page 66 of Till Orc Do Us Part
Only this.
I lean in slowly.
So does he.
When our mouths meet, it is nothing like before.
No anger. No heat forged from defiance or fear.
Just… soft.
Slow.
A question asked with lips instead of words.
His hand cups my jaw, gentle, fingers splayed as if he’s afraid I might vanish. I deepen the kiss—not with urgency, but with the simple want of it. The pure, quiet ache that’s been building beneath every look, every word, every moment I told myself I couldn’t want this.
But gods, I do.
When we part, my breath catches.
He searches my face. “Rowan?—”
“Shh,” I whisper. “No promises. No plans. Just this.”
His brow softens. He nods once.
The wind picks up. I shiver.
Without a word, he shrugs off his sweater, spreads it over us like a makeshift blanket. I pull my knees to my chest beneath it, leaning into his warmth.
He lets me.
I rest my head against his shoulder.
We sit that way for a long while—no need to speak, no rush to move. The stars scatter overhead, distant and bright. The sea hums its endless song.
At some point, my eyes grow heavy.
I feel him shift, arm wrapping around me, solid and careful.
The last thing I hear before sleep claims me is his voice, low and rough near my ear:
“Rest. I will watch.”
And beneath the stars, with the tide whispering promises beneath the dark, I believe him.
For now.
For this.
I let go.
CHAPTER 20
ROWAN
The salt-kissed air clings to my skin as we reach the sliding glass doors of his rental. Drokhaz doesn’t speak—just turns the key with hands steadier than my heartbeat. The door clicks open.
