Page 168 of Halfling
“We welcome them!” chanted the gathered crowd.
“Then before your kin, make your vows and seal it.”
Tears glittered in her eyes as Sorcha stepped closer, pressing their bound hands between their bodies. Her sweet scent teased at his nose, and his free arm went around her, her dress soft under his hand.
“I can’t regret being stolen,” she said, “for it brought me to you. The best male I’ve ever known. You did so much more than save me. You found me, Orek. Youseeme.” She pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. “And I see you, my love. You are brave, you are kind. You are halfling. And you are all mine.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, the need to surround himself with his mate, bury himself inside and bind them together a visceral urge that had his blood pumping hot.
Sorcha had explained to him that there were traditional human vows he could follow, that it was about the intent and meaning behind them, but Orek didn’t want someone else’s words in his mouth.
Gripping her hard to his chest, he rasped, “Nobody has ever given a damn about me. By rights, you shouldn’t have either. But you took me into your heart, into your clan, and I will never take it for granted. You are the heart in my chest, the air in my lungs. You are my mate, and I will give you everything, for you are everything to me.”
“I love you so much,” she whispered, tears wetting her rosy cheeks.
He wiped them away gently.
“I love you, my heart.”
And he pulled his mate close and kissed her, sealing their vows.
The crowd cheered and clapped, and then laughed and chattered when their kiss went on a little longer than necessary.
He couldn’t help it. He was starving for his mate, hiswife.Orek wasn’t a good male—at least, not very good. He was selfish, greedy, covetous.
But he was a good mate, and he’d share her a little longer. Only a little, though. He had a house to show off, and already he knew just where he wanted to make love to her for the first time in their home.
The crisp autumn afternoon soon faded into night, but they kept the darkness at bay with hundreds of lanterns and lights. A great bonfire had been built, and already rings of dancers circled and cheered as mead flowed freely.
It warmed Sorcha’s heart to see everyone enjoying themselves, savoring the food she, Aoife, and Aunt Sofie had toiled over for days. Everything was perfect, glowing warmly in the soft lantern and firelight. The day had remained clear despite a few threatening clouds—which, after Sorcha had fretted, Aoife and Sofie had pointed at through the kitchen window and told to bugger off.
Her mother and aunt were now dancing like little girls together near the bonfire, cheeks rosy from a little too much mead. Aoife had even managed to coax Ciaran into dancing for a while, though he’d retreated to the family table, where he now listened patiently to something Calum was saying as Keeley snoozed in his lap.
Maeve and Blaire had both barely left the dance circle, their hair tangled with flowers as they twirled and skipped. More than one set of eyes tracked Maeve everywhere she went—and they weren’t all human. If anything, that seemed to delight Maeve even more, and Sorcha wished her sister well.
She has no idea what she’s in for.
Connor and Niall had ended up in different chatting circles, and much of the crowd had broken into smaller parties, the talk lively and the plates left empty. The remains of the feast lay scattered on the food table, a good sign that everyone had filled their bellies and was content.
Although, the food table wasn’t totally abandoned; Sorcha spied a scrabbling little paw making the most of the unguarded leftovers. She smirked and pretended not to see.
Let Darrah have his fun—so long as he doesn’t bring too many of his friends.
Fully grown and more than a little rotund, Orek was now the only one who could lift the furry beast and carry him on his shoulders. He still enjoyed being carried around, especially in one of the harnesses Orek had made him, and often followed Orek and Sorcha through their duties in the hopes of being carried or petted or fed.
And Darrah wasn’t the only woodland creature her mate saw to, either.
Orek cared for many other raccoons, deer, stoats, otters, birds, and even a badger coming for food. Sorcha could only tell Darrah apart from the other raccoons by how big he was, whereas Orek named them and knew them all on sight. He’d even go looking for ones he hadn’t seen in a while, to make sure they were all right.
Calum loved the chance to study all the animals up close, and Orek enjoyed caring for them. He’d also taken on more duties at the stables, helping with the horses. What he enjoyed most, though, was woodworking. Connor had introduced him to it, and now she hardly ever saw her mate without a bit of sawdust in his hair.
Sorcha leaned into his arm to grin up at him. She watched the strong column of his throat work as he swallowed a mouthful of mead, tracing the thick tendons with her gaze.
The hand tied to her own squeezed hers, and he returned her grin.
“Are you content, my heart?”
“So much more than content.”
