Page 132 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“Your hands are shaking.”
“That’s just—” She yawned, betraying her words. “Adrenaline.”
“That’s exhaustion. And you need to sleep.”
“But the texts?—”
“Will still be here tomorrow. After you’ve rested.” He looked at Lyric. “She’ll continue working tomorrow. Yes?”
Lyric gave him a small, understanding smile. “Of course. We’ve made good progress tonight. The rest can wait.”
Thea opened her mouth to protest, then closed it and sagged against his chest. The fact that she was too tired to keep arguing worried him. He turned to Ulric and forced himself to ask the question—one he would never ask for himself but had to ask for her.
“My mate needs somewhere to rest. Somewhere safe.”
Asking for help felt like admitting weakness. Lasseran’s orcs didn’t ask. Didn’t admit need. Didn’t?—
I’m not Lasseran’s anymore.
Ulric simply nodded calmly and pointed to a spot on the map of the camp. “There’s a tent near Egon’s. Small but private.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll talk more tomorrow after Dr. Monroe has rested.”
He nodded and started towards the tent entrance, his mate safely in his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Thea relaxed against Khorrek’s chest as he carried her towards the entrance to the tent, finding comfort in his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat despite her irritation.
Damn it. I don’t want to stop working. Don’t want to?—
Another yawn interrupted her thoughts, and she finally registered the other people in the tent. Ulric. Egon. Jessamin. All watching them with expressions that ranged from curiosity to barely suppressed amusement.
Oh god. How long had they been watching? What did they see?
Egon’s scarred face held something that might have been approval. Jessamin looked pleased, delighted even. Even Ulric’s stern face had the faintest hint of a smile.
They think this is sweet—a big strong warrior taking care of his tiny fragile mate. The thought brought a wave of heat to her cheeks. She wasn’t some damsel who needed rescuing. She was a competent academic who could manage her own?—
Another yawn. Longer this time.
Okay. Maybe I need a little rescuing right now.
Khorrek carried her out into the night and cool air washed over her face, refreshing after the closeness of the tent.
She looked up at him, his profile stark against the starlight, all hard angles and brutal beauty.
My orc.
The possessiveness still surprised her. She’d never been a possessive person, had never understood people who got territorial about their partners.
But with Khorrek, she wanted to put her mark on him, wanted everyone to know he was hers.
Probably the mate bond. Making me feral.
They passed tents and campfires, and warriors moving through the darkness on patrol.
