Page 142 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“We don’t need to hear what the Council thinks,” Traig said. “We’ve decided, and our decision is final. I’ll be corresponding with the Council directly. I’ll inform them that their arranged bonding is void. That any attempt to enforce it violates the oldest protections in our law.”

He lifted his chin. “If my parents wish to contest this, they are welcome to file their appeal with the understanding that contesting a kavresh bond is considered an act against sacred law and carries its own consequences.”

Sputters erupted from the scribe.

“Willa Enford is not a convenience,” Traig said. “She’s the person whose happiness I have made my responsibility.” His gaze pinned the scribe in place. “The Council can file that.”

“I will relay this information to the Council,” the scribe said, his voice wavering.

“Good.”

The older male’s gaze moved between us one more time, landing on our joined hands and the matching marks visible on both our wrists.

“The Council will expect documentation,” he said.

“They’ll receive it.”

The scribe nodded and walked to the door.

Traig strode forward and opened it for him.

“Safe travels, Scribe Kelthren,” I said.

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Congratulations on your bonding.” He left, his footsteps heavy on the gravel path. The vehicle door opened and closed, and the engine started.

We stood in the doorway and watched him drive away.

When the sound of the engine had faded, Traig turned to me.

“Love you, Willa,” he whispered.

My vision blurred.

I rose on my toes and kissed him.

His arms came around me, pulling me against his chest.

When I finally pulled back, Traig’s eyes glistened with tears.

“They gave you one week, and we told them where to file their paperwork,” I said with a grin.

The corner of his mouth curved. “We did.”

“Your parents are going to be furious.”

“No doubt.”

“The Council might appeal.”

“They might.”

“We’ll fight them.”

“Yes.” He kissed my forehead. “We will.”

Fred flew over, bumping into Traig’s shoulder. Amanda’s crown took on a bright pink, and she pointed her letter opener at the road the scribe had driven down.

“She’s very fierce,” I said.