Page 53 of Thankful for My Orc
“And you’d be mine.” My voice is barely a whisper.
His eyes flash with something intense. “Yes.”
“Forever.”
“Forever,” he confirms. “I need you to understand what you’d be choosing. There’s no walking away from a soulbond, Jordan. Ever. Not if you change your mind, not if we fight, not if—”
“Not if I get scared and try to run?” I interrupt, thinking about the morning I fled his apartment.
He flinches. “Not even then. You’dbe bound to me. Permanently.”
I should be terrified. Every instinct I’ve developed as a divorce lawyer should be screaming at me to slow down, to think this through, to protect myself. But as I look at this orc who’s been patient with every fear, who’s fought for me without demanding anything in return, who sees all of me and wants me anyway… my fear dissolves.
“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly.
“Anything.”
“Do you want this? The bond?”
His answer is immediate. “More than anything.”
“Even knowing I’m difficult? That I’ll probably panic ten more times before I learn to trust this fully?”
“Even then.” A smile tugs at his mouth. “Especially then.”
“And if I say yes to this—to you, to forever—you promise to be patient when I mess up?”
“I promise,” he says solemnly. “Though I might need the same patience when I mess up too.”
“What if I want that?” I ask. “What if I want to be bound to you in a way that can’t be broken?”
“Then I’ll give you everything I am,” he says simply. “My heart, my soul, my life. All of it, yours.”
The words hit me low and deep, like a chord struck inside my chest. For a heartbeat, I forget how to breathe. All that strength, all that quiet devotion—offered so simply it undoes me.
I look at him. Really look at him.
This is the male who built systems with me instead of asking me to choose between work and relationships. Who waited patiently every time I panicked and ran. Who sees my workaholic tendencies as dedication, not a character flaw. Who looked atme tonight and saw something I couldn’t see—a bond forming, destiny clicking into place—and still gave me the choice.
Every divorce case I’ve handled, including my own, taught me what love isn’t. It isn’t manipulation or control. It isn’t one person constantly sacrificing while the other takes. It isn’t fear disguised as protection.
But Forge… Forge has taught me what love is.
It’s patience when I’m difficult. It’s pride in my victories. It’s building something together that’s stronger than what either of us could create alone. It’s choosing each other, every single day, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
I think about the morning I fled his apartment, terrified of wanting too much. How he didn’t chase me, didn’t guilt me, just… waited. Sent patient messages. Gave me space to work through my fear. And when I finally came back, he welcomed me without making me grovel for forgiveness.
I think about tonight—how proud I felt introducing him to my colleagues. How right it felt having him by my side. How that moment at his truck, when his hand touched mine and something fundamental shifted in the universe, didn’t scare me. It felt like coming home.
A soulbond means forever. No escape clause, no divorce lawyer, no way out if I get scared again.
But maybe that’s exactly what I need. Not a way out, but a reason to stay. Not a contract with loopholes, but a promise that can’t be broken—not by fear, not by panic, not by the ghost of my failed marriage.
I’m a divorce lawyer who’s seen every way love can go wrong. But standing here with Forge, feeling the truth of what we havethrumming between us like a living thing, I know with absolute certainty that this is what love looks like when it goes right.
“That’s what I want,” I tell him, certainty ringing in my voice. “I want all of you, Forge. Forever.”
His eyes blaze with heat and promise. “Then let’s get out of here. Because once I get you home, I’m not letting you go until you’re completely, permanentlymine.”
