Page 17 of Ironling
So while he might sample, he had to keep his head. A mate was his aim, and he doubted she’d appreciate him looking for her in every maid’s bed along the way.
His blood ran hot with the prospects—of which there were many. He hadn’t been this lusty since his randy days as an untried youth and the first nights he’d spent with Feeli. The possibilities almost overwhelmed him.
He had to think with his head, though, and not with his cock and make a good choice. And a wise one. For all that he yearned for a mate now, he’d spent much of his youth resenting it and its powerful hold over bonded mates.
The mate-bond took his mother from him, so strong was its pull to despair when his father perished. His grandfather couldn’t bear to be without his grandmother and quickly died of a broken heart. So it often was for bonded mates, which was why many kin were cautious in bonding with a mate. They were much more carefree about bedmates, but he knew of plenty of kin who eschewed liaisons that lasted too long for fear of the bond beginning to take root.
The mate-bond was sacred to orcs for good reason, and Hakon learned to appreciate it in his maturity and long for the bond his grandparents shared, the one Siggy and her mates had.
He wanted that something fierce. To be everything to someone. To be loved and wanted and needed so fiercely…
Knowing that he was on the precipice, so close to finding it, eased a bit of the aching in his cock to be around so many pretty women—as well as the heartache of missing home more than he cared to admit.
As Hakon hammered, wanting to finish a few more nails and horseshoes before banking the fire for the night, the thought ofpretty women and mates eventually lured his thoughts back to yesterday. Toher.
He’d already heard plenty of talk about the Darrow heiress in his short time there. Hakon was pleased to find that talk of her, and of Liege Darrow, was almost always positive; they seemed truly beloved by the staff of their castle.
None of that had prepared him for seeingher,though.
He feared he’d been struck dumb in her presence.
Hakon thrust another iron bar into the fire, ears going ruddy at the memory.
Fates, he didn’t know women came so fine.
It wasn’t that the other women of the castle were mostly common folk while she was noble born. There were others just as or more beautiful than she; there were those who also had glittering eyes and more still with blonde hair that fell in soft waves down their backs. Plenty had freckles dotting their noses and pink, plush lips that curled just so into a warm smile. Orek’s mate Sorcha was taller and more buxom, while many other women he’d seen were smaller than the heiress.
She was all of these things and so much more. What that was, though, he didn’t know for sure, and thought perhaps knowing might lead him into danger.
Something moved in his peripheral vision. At first thinking it was just Wülf shifting on his preferred thatch mat, he ignored it.
There it was again, though. Clearly a human hand waving at him.
Hakon turned his head to look—and nearly dropped molten iron on his foot.
Lady Aislinn stood in the smithy entryway grinning at him, holding a book in one small hand and waving her other to get his attention.
Ears burning, Hakon hastened to safely put down his tools. Her mouth moved as she took another step into the room.
He lifted a hand, startling her, and quickly pulled the beeswax from his ears.
“Forgive me, my lady,” he said, bowing his head.
“No need.” She looked down in surprise when Wülf appeared before her and nudged her with his long muzzle.
Whistling between his teeth, Hakon warned, “Wülf, behave.”
Lady Aislinn held her hand out for the dog to sniff, and in amazement, Hakon watched his unfriendly, aloof hound thrust his head into her hand for attention. He rarely let Hakon or his grandmother pet him, let alone strangers, but was happy to make a fool of himself for the pretty heiress.
That makes two of us.
“What did you have in your ears?” she asked.
Hakon’s mouth opened and closed, his heart still racing to have Lady Aislinn there as if his thoughts had summoned her. Her glossy waves were brushed back from her face, offering him a clear view of her lovely face and sparkling golden eyes. A simple blue gown adorned her, the neckline dipping to reveal the top swells of her ample breasts and the skirt falling in a draping cascade around her round hips.
He caught a rumbling noise in his throat.Fates, how lovely she is.
Then—his heart stuttered when he realized she stood there, expecting his answer, but he didn’t know the Eirean word forbeeswax.
