Page 114 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

Fred grumbled agreement.

We reheated what was left from last night’s dinner and sat at the table where the scribe had sat last night and this morning. Everything felt different. Lighter in some ways. Heavier in others.

I pushed food around my plate, my appetite gone.

“What if wanting this makes losing it worse?” The words rushed out of me.

Traig’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing since the scribe left.” His gaze found mine across the table. “What if I lose you because my parents can’t stand the thought of me having something that matters, a person I chose instead of someone they approved? They’ve taken everything else except what I built here.” His fingers tightened around his fork. “Every choice I made that wasn’t what they wanted, they found a way to make me regret it. Moving here. Building the rescue league with the others. Choosing my brothers instead of friends they approved of.”

An ache moved through my chest; I could barely breathe.

“They’ll try to take this too,” he said. “You. I don’t know if the mark will be enough to stop them.”

I’d spent so much of my life making myself useful so people would keep me around. With Derek, I’d counted good things because he never noticed them himself. With Traig, I’d been trying to prove I belonged here, that I was worth keeping.

“What if being your mate isn’t enough to convince them? They might look at me and see exactly what my ex saw, someone organized and helpful but not worth fighting for.”

Amanda lifted her stick and jabbed it toward the door. Our mighty warrior. But even her defense couldn’t save us.

Traig’s chair scraped back. He came around to my side of the table and pulled me to my feet, his hands framing my face.

“You’re not useful to me.” His voice came out fierce. “You’re necessary. You’re the reason for everything. If they try to break us apart, they’ll have to drag me back to the kingdom in pieces. I won’t let them.”

I wasn’t sure how he could stop it from happening.

“We have mating marks because I’ve finally stopped expecting you to leave,” he said. “I know you want me, and that’s why they appeared. We need to trust that this will be enough.”

“Alright.”

We finished eating. Fred and Amanda watched from the counter, Amanda’s crown cycling through gentle colors while Fred’s grumble gave us background music.

After washing up from dinner, I sat on the sofa with my notebook on my lap.

Traig settled beside me, his arm around my shoulders.

I opened it to a blank page and held my pen over it before setting it on the cushion beside me. “Do you want to see all of it? Not read it in secret?”

His jaw worked. “Only if you want to show me.”

I lifted the pen again and wrote while he watched.

We have a month. Maybe that’s all we’ll get. But right now, sitting with Fred grumbling and Amanda eager to defend us and Traig’s leg against mine, it feels like I’m enough. No, I’m more than enough.

I turned the notebook toward him.

He read it slowly, then he looked up, his eyes bright. “Thank you for letting me see.”

He picked up the pen I’d set down, turned to a blank page, and wrote something, forming each letter carefully. He turned the notebook toward me.

Willa let me see what she wrote. She chose to share it instead of me taking it. That’s the difference. That’s everything.

A smile of wonder filled his face.

“So many good things,” he murmured. “You. You’re the best of the good things.”

Rising, I placed a blanket on the floor and patted it. “Fred. You two can rest here tonight if you’d like.”