Page 83 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

I couldn’t let them do this to him.

I stomped inside and announced we were mated. There. Done. Just like that, I had a…husband? No, mate. Traig’s mate.

Now I stood beside him with my pulse doing crazy things. I couldn’t look at him, afraid I’d see regret or irritation on his face because I’d made a massive decision for both of us without asking.

But the alternative was worse.

My hand was still wrapped around his arm. His pulse under my palm was going faster than it should. Or maybe that was my pulse. I couldn’t tell.

They’d drag him back to the kingdom. He’d mate with someone his parents approved of, a person who’d never make him cookies or reorganize his filing systems or kiss him in an empty entryway while Fred grumbled overhead.

My stomach twisted at the thought.

The scribe’s dark robes rustled as he turned and looked me up and down, his expression unchanging. “I am Scribe Kelthren of the Third Registry.” He gestured to the chairs. “Both of you should sit.”

Traig stepped out into the hallway and brought back a second chair. He set it in front of his desk, and I lowered myself into the other.

The scribe settled into Traig’s desk chair and studied the ledger open on Traig’s desk.

“Tell me about your bond,” he said, lifting his pen over a blank page.

My mouth went dry.

Traig’s hand found mine, his palm warm. He laced his fingers through mine and held tight.

“We work together,” I said. “Here at the Creature Rescue League. I’m the office manager. Traig handles operations.”

The scribe made a note. “How did you meet?”

“During the interview process,” Traig said, his voice steady.

“And how long have you worked here?” the scribe asked me.

I couldn’t lie. This male probably had resources to discover information like this. We needed to be very careful.

“Almost three weeks,” I said, then added without thinking, “but we both knew from the moment we met. I felt like I’d been waiting for him.”

“I see.” The scribe frowned but wrote down the information. “What sign did you have that told you that you were mates?” His gaze moved between us.

My heart kicked against my ribs. If only we’d had a few minutes to come up with a shared story.

“I knew she was mine when she moved a message pad,” Traig said.

The scribe’s pen paused. “Explain.”

“I have a slight issue with being in control. When she moved the message pad and I moved it back and she didn’t comment on that fact, I knew we were meant to be together.” He sounded heartfelt and honest. He was either a very good actor or…

If anything, Traig was upfront and honest. He wasn’t a great liar.

His thumb brushed across my knuckles, making my skin tingle.

The scribe wrote everything down.

“Let’s discuss your daily routines,” the scribe said, not looking up from his ledger. “How do you share your days?”

We didn’t share days. Not the way bonded mates did. We shared coffee he made before I arrived. Meetings. Cookies I baked in my apartment while thinking about him.

“Traig has been very patient with me since I took this new job,” I said. “He explains everything, which means we spend a lot of time at my desk together.”