Page 100 of Halfling
Would Orek stay where others had left—would he stay for her?
She didn’t know. And even though her heart ached for not knowing, she was too scared to ask and crush that fragile hope between her hands.
So Sorcha held back her tears and focused on the steady sound of Orek’s breathing. It soothed the roiling mass of nerves she’d made of her guts a little, enough that she could at least follow him into sleep.
24
“All right,” Sorcha said, clapping her hands, “packs?”
“Yes,” said Orek, biting back his grin. She’d taken to doing this whenever they stopped at a human village, and the ritual still baffled but amused him.
“Fire?”
“Doused.”
“Raccoon?”
“Yes.” He scratched Darrah’s cheek from where the kit perched on his shoulder, already drowsy from a big breakfast.
“Coins?”
When he didn’t answer, Sorcha looked up to see his smug grin.
Rolling her eyes, she began patting down her body, which immediately caught his interest. She arched a saucy brow at him as she continued running her hands over her curves.
“Don’t get ideas, I just got my boots on.”
“It’s not your boots that’d need to come off.”
Sorcha snickered but didn’t give in. After another moment, she pulled the coin purse out of the pocket of her overcoat he’d snuck it in earlier that morning. Huffing another laugh, she jangled the coins inside.
“I still feel guilty spending all your coins.”
“I gave them to you. They’re yours to spend,” he insisted. Everything he had was hers.
She grumped as she always did when the subject came up. He found it endearing that she disliked feeling as if she owed him, but he hoped one day soon she’d understand that it wasn’t a matter of owing or being equal. It was her due as his mate, she would always come first.
“Weapons?” she asked.
“Yes.” He lifted his heavy cloak to reveal the hatchet and daggers stashed at his belt, concealed so as not to frighten any of the other humans but still within easy reach.
“Hood?”
With a huff, he flipped up the fur-lined hood of the cloak, shadowing his face and engulfing Darrah. The kit chittered happily, content to root around in the cozy space and make a mess of his plaited mane.
It was necessary to put up his hood and wear gloves when going into human settlements; they didn’t know how other humans would react to an orc this far north. Still, something about it set his skin to itching. He didn’t like having to conceal himself and hide away his face. He’d done plenty of fading into the background within the clan, and to do it now as he walked beside his mate…
Sorcha caught the unhappy turn of his expression, her own going soft with sympathy. She closed the distance between them, reaching up to adjust the hood just so.
“If it’s any consolation, it makes you look very mysterious,” she quipped.
It wasn’t, really, but her teasing kiss was, which he dutifully bent down to receive when she arched her brows just so. He tried coaxing her into a deeper kiss, teasing her lower lip with his tongue. Her sigh was a warm puff against his face, and he pressed closer, arms going around her to pull her into the curve of his body. His hands found her backside, and he took great handfuls, drawing her up onto her toes.
She’d just gone warm and pliant in his arms when she sucked in a breath and leaned back, scowling. “Not this time,” she said, tapping his chin with a finger. “You’ve already distracted me three days in a row. I want those new socks. And apples.”
Orek made a show of grumbling and setting her back on her feet, but he kept his arms around her. “If my female wants socks, then that’s what she gets.”
“And apples.”
