Page 112 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

Forever. The word felt like a weight and a promise at the same time. I’d spent almost three weeks falling for him in pieces, and now those pieces had fused into something I couldn’t unfeel even if I wanted to.

I traced the lines that formed a mountain range above a wave, the mark about the size of a quarter. It felt smooth, as if it had always been there. “Does the Council have to honor this?”

His arms locked around me. “In the old laws, a kavresh bond is sacred. The Council should recognize it. They’ve always done so.”

“Should,” I said. “But your parents filed their inquiry before this happened.”

“Yes.”

“And they don’t exactly follow rules that don’t serve them.”

“No. They don’t.”

The vulnerability on his face made my throat burn.

“So we have a sacred bond that might not matter,” I said.

“It matters.” He gently cupped my face, turning it up. “Even if they try to ignore it, it matters. We’re bonded, Willa. This is not pretend. This is—” He stopped, his tusks scraping across his upper lip.

“Real,” I said.

“Yes.”

The word held more meaning now. Before, we’d been acting, making it look convincing enough to pass a test. But the mark on my wrist wasn’t pretend. It was proof that we’d chosen each other.

I shifted in his lap, my legs starting to complain about the position, but I didn’t want to move. Neither did he, because his arms stayed wrapped around me like I might disappear if he let go.

“Should we tell the Council?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Let them come. Let them try to say this isn’t true.”

“This might help with their decision.”

“Unless they’ve already decided. We have a month. We’re going to live. But I will send word.”

“Alright.” My legs cramped again. “We should probably get up.”

“Probably.”

His fingertip smoothed across the mark on my wrist, following the lines. “I’ve read about these. Heard stories. Laina and Brovish have them, of course. But I never thought I’d have one, that anyone would choose me. My parents made it clear that being chosen required earning. That bonds were built on usefulness and meeting standards I could never see clearly enough to reach.” His voice dropped. “But you chose the me who needs everything organized to feel in control. That’s the me who got a kavresh mark.”

My vision blurred. “The mark just made it official.”

We remained on his entryway floor, tangled together, our matching marks glowing softly between us. Eventually, though, my legs demanded attention, and the floor stopped being romantic.

“Okay,” I said. “Now we really need to get up.”

He helped me stand, his hands steadying me when my knees wobbled.

He held my pants while I stepped into one leg, then the other. My hands shook enough that I fumbled the button twice before getting it through the hole. He nudged my fingers aside and secured my pants for me before retrieving his shirt from where I’d torn it off him.

One button hung by a thread. Another was missing.

“I destroyed your shirt,” I said.

“You can destroy all my shirts if you’d like.”

We kept looking at our wrists. The glow had started to fade already, settling with only a faint hint of its original glow.