THE ORC AND THE INNKEEPER

AN ELDERBERRY FALLS STORY

CORA CRANE

The Orc and the Innkeeper

Copyright © 2024 by Cora Crane

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

1

MARIAH

It’s a Friday morning at the Moonflower Inn and for once, remarkably, things are not chaotic.

Chaos is normal in a small town, and even more common in a magical town like Elderberry Falls. But so far today, there have been no gnomes running amok in the kitchen, no unexpected portals opening up in the guest rooms, and not a single complaint from the finicky wizard council about the thread count of their sheets.

It’s peaceful, almost eerily so. I sink into the plush upholstered velvet desk chair I recently bought myself, a rare indulgent luxury. Then I kick my worn leather ankle boots up onto the reception desk and grin.

A girl could get used to quiet. It’s rare that I’m able to make myself this at home at the inn—a place that I literally own.

“Excuse me, young lady!” A sharp voice slices through the tranquility, and I sigh, bringing my feet back down to the floor and standing, once again the consummate professional.

Like the unpredictable weather of Elderberry Falls, peace is often fleeting.

A human guest plants himself firmly before me, his tailored suit and sour face looking out of place against the whimsical backdrop of the inn.

The man’s frown deepens and his name comes to me. Robert Kingsley. Checked in last night, due to stay for two weeks.

“There’s an unacceptable noise coming from the room above mine,” Mr. Kingsley says with a huff. “And I’ve seen...creatures lurking about.”

“Creatures, Mr. Kingsley?” I keep my voice even, my smile fixed, but inside, I’m rolling my eyes so hard it hurts. “Our guests come in all shapes and sizes here. Diversity is part of the charm.”

His eyes narrow. “I thought this was a human establishment.”

I have to fight to keep my face pleasant now. This is typical of someone visiting from mostly human lands. Prejudices against monsters and other magical beings are widespread. It’s why towns like Elderberry Falls exist. We’re a haven for the non-human.

Not that Elderberry Falls is immune to prejudice. I know that personally.

“Human-owned, as you can see,” I tell him, my voice cheery but firm. My great-aunt Ida, a human, bought this place from the sorceress who built it when she retired. When Ida died two years ago, I inherited it. “But the Moonflower Inn welcomes everyone—humans and magical beings alike.”

Mr. Kingsley’s face starts to redden, and I can see he’s prepared to argue with me. He’s not the first idiot I’ve dealt with in my twenty-seven years, so I know what he’s going to say next. He’ll threaten to take his business elsewhere.

“We don’t have any segregated lodging in Elderberry Falls,” I add quickly.

That takes the wind out of his sails, and his shoulders droop a bit. He’s welcome to huff off and leave, but now he knows that if he does, he’ll be sleeping out on the street or in his car.

It never fails to astound me that people who can’t stomach magical beings even bother coming to Elderberry Falls. What on earth is this guy doing here, and for two whole weeks?

Mr. Kingsley looks like he’s swallowed something bitter, his lips puckering slightly. “Of course, of course, I wouldn’t suggest that. But last night, I swear I heard flapping wings and...giggling. It’s unseemly. And it kept me up all night.”

“Ah, that would be the Brownies from suite 3B,” I say, tapping at my keyboard to signal I’m taking him seriously. “It looks like they’re checking out today, so you shouldn’t be disturbed by them again. I do apologize for the inconvenience.” I offer him one of my most practiced sympathetic smiles. “Perhaps I could offer you a complimentary breakfast to make up for your disturbed rest?”

Mr. Kingsley seems momentarily placated by the prospect of free food, but his stiff demeanor suggests he’s still not entirely comfortable.

“Very well, I’ll accept the breakfast. But do ensure no further...disturbances,” he replies, adjusting his tie as though straightening it could bolster his defenses against the magical world.

“Absolutely, Mr. Kingsley. Your comfort is our priority,” I assure him, even though a part of me is itching to introduce him to a few of our more distinctive guests.

Just as he turns to leave with a rather abrupt, “Thank you,” his foot catches on the edge of an ornately woven rug—one of the less magical items in the lobby—sending him stumbling slightly forward. He regains his composure with a quickness that’s almost impressive, straightening up as if nothing happened.

His glare sweeps the lobby, checking if anyone saw his near-fall, and then he strides off toward the cafe with rigid dignity.

A quiet chuckle reaches my ear, and I turn to find Laurelle, my head housekeeper slash do-it-all woman. Laurelle’s worked here for decades, since the sorceress was in charge.

She’s barely holding back her laughter, a sparkle of mischief in her silver-blue eyes. I know without asking that Laurelle helped Mr. Kingsley with that stumble. Laurelle is an elf and likes to use her magic to play harmless tricks on people.

“That man would lose his mind if he spent one night in the enchanted forest suite,” Laurelle whispers, leaning closer as if sharing a top-secret.

Since the inn was magically built, there’s still magic in it, even though it’s had human proprietors for years now. Many of our guest rooms have magical features.

“I’m half tempted to upgrade him for free,” I reply with a grin, knowing full well that the enchantment on that room might actually cause a man like that psychic damage. The walls are lined with murals that come to life at night—fairies dance, trees sway, and the moon sings.

It would be a spectacle.

Alas, I do have a reputation to uphold here and I need the steady business I get from human travelers. It took years to get this place upgraded after my great aunt Ida’s death and I’m mired in debts from it, both Ida’s and my own.

Plus, things have been slow around here recently. We’ve been in a weird tourist slump. I can’t afford anything impacting my business right now.

I wave Laurelle off as she heads upstairs to clean up the rooms and try to regain that moment of peace and calm I was enjoying so much.

Sinking back into my desk chair, I pick up my phone, mindlessly scrolling through MagicMatch, the dating app everyone uses in Elderberry Falls. My dating life has been as chaotic as the inn ever since I broke up with my last boyfriend—a charming but utterly unreliable sprite who thought borrowing money without asking was affection.

I swipe past a series of potential matches: a vampire who loves sunrises (ironic, much?), a werewolf with an allergy to fur (the poor guy), and a merman looking for someone who doesn’t mind long distances, literally.

Being a human in a magical town is never boring, that’s for sure. Sometimes I get treated like a sideshow attraction by my date. And sometimes I get the feeling that guys I’m seeing are just dating me because they find me exotic or a novelty.

But there are upsides. Monsters and magical beings are built differently from human men. Usually in good ways.

Very good ways.

As I chuckle to myself, my finger stops on a new profile that catches my eye in a spark of familiarity.

The photo shows a tall, muscular orc with a greenish hue to his skin, and a panty-melting smile that displays ferocious tusks. His thick, corded arms are folded across a broad chest swathed in a tight flannel.

Thorak Ironfist.

I scowl at his photo, even as a heat forms low in my belly.

Still stupidly handsome, I see.

Probably still an unrepentant asshole, too.

I swipe left with more force than necessary, causing my phone to slip from my grasp and clatter onto the desk. “Not today, Satan,” I mutter under my breath.

Just as I’m about to pick my phone up, Laurelle comes barreling back down the stairs, panic plain on her face.

“Mariah, you need to come see this now!” she exclaims, her gray hair mussed and her usually calm demeanor replaced by urgent concern.

I spring up from my chair. “What’s happened?”

I follow her quick strides back up the staircase. Laurelle doesn’t often lose her composure, so whatever it is must be serious.

“There’s something all over room 4A,” she says over her shoulder as we climb to the fourth floor. “It’s glittering. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but it looks like it might be…”

My heart sinks. “Pixie dust mites,” I finish.

We rush into room 4A. The situation is a glittering disaster.

The pixie dust mites are everywhere, shimmering in the air like a cloud of mischievous stardust—it’s beautiful and horrifying at the same time. The magic of the room’s usual enchantments seems dimmer, sputtering under the assault of these tiny pests.

“They must have come in with someone’s luggage,” Laurelle guesses, a frown creasing her otherwise serene face. “Or maybe through an open window.”

I nod, surveying the scene. The ornate mirror on the wall is obscured by a thick layer of glittering dust, and the hand-crafted wooden nightstands are shimmering unnaturally.

It’s as if the room is caught in a perpetual twilight sparkle. Just not the enchanting kind we aim for at Moonflower Inn.

This is so freaking bad.

Pixie dust mites spread quickly. They’re drawn to magic and can undo a whole host of enchantments—which, of course, cost money for me to get restored since I’m not magical myself.

But they also wreak mundane havoc. They can get into pipes and cause massive plumbing clogs. They’ll short circuit an entire electrical grid if given the chance.

“I have to call the exterminator,” I say, groaning.

They’re probably going to be expensive to get rid of, but if I don’t do it right away, the long-term costs will be so much worse.

Laurelle shoots me a worried look. She knows how tight things are around here right now.

“Let me help,” she offers softly, scanning the enchanted chaos around us. “I’ll try to hold them with a containment spell until the exterminator arrives.”

She extends her delicate hands towards the glittering cloud, murmuring a string of fluid Elvish incantations that sound like music to my non-magical ears.

The shimmer in the air begins to condense, swirling towards Laurelle as if drawn by a magnet. It’s mesmerizing to watch, this dance of light and magic commanded by my colleague’s expertise.

“That should keep them from spreading too much,” she says after a moment, her brows knit together in concentration. “But we need to act fast.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice. I hightail it back down the stairs and to the front desk, where I’ve left my phone. Three minutes later and I’ve got an emergency appointment with Mystic Pest Control for this morning.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t give me a quote without checking out the infestation in person. When I pressed the receptionist, she said that most pixie dust mite exterminations start, baseline, at ten thousand dollars.

I’m royally screwed.

Just as I hang up the phone, the bell above the front door jingles, heralding a new arrival. I look up, putting on my polite reception desk face.

The first thing I notice is how large the being is, a towering figure in the doorway that blocks out the morning light. They duck under the frame to fit inside. They must be over six and a half feet tall.

As they step further into the room, I can see that it’s a male orc. His skin is a beautiful, deep mossy color and he has a chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones. His dark hair is cut short for an orc, but is still long enough that it’s falling into his eyes. He pushes it out of his face with a giant, strong-looking hand, glancing around the entryway to the inn, searching for something.

His golden eyes connect with mine and an electrical shock courses through me. My stomach bottoms out in a traitorous way. I fight that feeling off and focus on the emotions that come swiftly after.

Anger, irritation.

My lips purse themselves into a tight, impatient line.

It’s Thorak gods-damned Ironfist.

What is my high school tormentor doing in my inn?!

2

MARIAH

Thorak’s heavy footsteps echo against the hardwood floors as he strides toward the reception desk, like the ominous crash of an approaching storm. If the ground could shake beneath the weight of his presence, I’m sure it would.

It’s like he was plucked straight from my teenage nightmares and dropped into my sanctuary.

Thorak looks broader than the last time I saw him, taller if that’s even possible, and sports a suit that probably costs more than what I make in a month. The tattoos on my arms prickle under his stare, as if my skin itself remembers his sneers, the way he used to look at me.

Elderberry Falls has about seven thousand residents but often feels like a much smaller town. We have constant festivals, monthly town meetings, and a tight-knit business owners association. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone gossips about everyone.

On its best days, Elderberry Falls can be a welcoming, warm hug. On its worst, it seems inescapable.

So it’s remarkable that I’ve been able to dodge Thorak for the last ten years. We’ve never bumped into each other at the monster market. We’ve never been at the same parties, have never grabbed a drink at the same bars. His name has barely popped up in conversations for me.

The only thing I can think is that the unknowable magic of Elderberry Falls has been helping me keep a wide berth.

Until now.

“Thorak,” I say as he draws closer. His name tastes like week-old coffee on my tongue. It’s blunt, a little bitter. My hands clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “Surprised to see you here.”

The words drip with honeyed venom, my eyes narrowing just enough to let him know I haven’t forgotten or forgiven. He flinches, so fast I almost miss it, before schooling his face back into something neutral.

Thorak gets my implication—here, a business owned by a dirty human. Here, a place run by the woman he used to bully relentlessly.

“Mariah.” His voice is a deep, earthy rumble that resonates in the space between us. Thorak’s gaze moves to my own and holds it. Despite my resolve, heat creeps up my neck. Infuriating. “Been a while. How have you been?”

I lean back against the front desk and cross my arms in front of me, trying not to let his presence affect me. Trying not to feel just how much bigger he is than me. He’s filled out in annoyingly delicious ways—no longer a bratty, mean teenager, but a man.

Probably a bratty, mean man. Even if he’s being annoyingly gentlemanly right now.

“Why would you care?” I spit back at him. His mouth flattens into a tight line around his sharp white tusks. Good, he knows that I’m not willing to brush our history under the rug for the sake of seeming polite. “What are you doing here, Thorak?”

“Business,” he grunts.

I can’t help but scoff. “Business? Seriously?”

Thorak glances around the lobby of the inn, clearly looking for someone. “Yeah, a potential investor in my brewery is staying here.” He looks back toward me. “Sorry. I’m sure you don’t want me here. I wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t requested it.”

I blink in surprise at his self-awareness. The Thorak I knew in high school never would’ve apologized to me, for anything.

“I’m looking for Robert Kingsley,” he continues, running one of those big hands through his hair again. “Can you point me in the direction of the cafe?”

“Kingsley?” My eyebrows shoot up.

Now that’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming. I fight back an uncharitable smile. If Kingsley couldn’t handle the flapping of wings in the room above him, he’s going to have an interesting reaction to this business meeting with a giant green orc.

Maybe Thorak will get a taste of his own medicine.

“Down the hallway, second door on your left.” I wave vaguely toward the cafe.

Thorak nods and turns to leave, and I can’t help but notice how that well-tailored suit hugs his broad shoulders, the way his strides are confident yet measured.

I bite my lip—a nervous tick I thought I’d outgrown—and force my gaze away, concentrating on the soft crackle of the fireplace.

That’s always been the problem with Thorak; his presence is like the pull of the moon on the tides, undeniable and powerful. And heat? That’s one thing he’s never lacked—in any sense of the word. Even when he was being awful, even when he made my blood boil with frustration, he was so undeniably...hot.

A fact that irritates me more than I care to admit.

No sooner do I steel myself for the mountain of paperwork on my desk than the front door creaks open again, and in stomps Brorik, the most cantankerous exterminator this side of the Enchanted Forest.

Brorik’s beard is an unruly thicket of wiry gray, and his eyes are sharp as he surveys the quiet charm of the Moonflower Inn.

“Brorik,” I call out, stepping forward to greet the dwarf. “Glad you could make it.”

He grunts in response. “Show me to these pests.”

I lead him up the creaking stairs to room 4A. The door swings open to reveal a shimmering haze suspended in the center of the room, like a disco ball had exploded but forgot to fall down.

“Contained them with an enchantment,” I explain, my voice a touch too high, betraying my nerves. “But they’re still here.”

Brorik unpacks his tools without a word, each one more peculiar than the last: a crystal-tipped wand, a pair of goggles that glow faintly with runes, and a small box that hums ominously. He waves the wand over the contained mites, then slips on the goggles and stares at the walls.

“Strange,” he mutters. “Very strange.”

“Strange how?” I ask, crossing my arms. His head shaking does nothing for my already frazzled nerves.

“Inside the walls,” he says brusquely. “They’ve burrowed deep. Gonna be a tough job.” He pulls away a panel near the floorboard, revealing a network of tunnels glinting with residual magic.

“Can you get rid of them?” I press, eyeing the wall with a mix of dread and fascination.

“Of course,” he huffs, as if offended by the question. “But it won’t be pretty.”

“Nothing about today has been pretty,” I retort, trying for a laugh and failing. Instead, I follow Brorik with my eyes as he examines the extent of the damage.

Eventually, he pulls back and jots something down on a scroll, then hands it to me.

“You’ve got yourself a right mess,” Brorik grumbles as I take the paper from him.

I scan the document, and my stomach drops like a lead weight into the pit of my despair.

“Twenty thousand dollars?” My voice is barely above a whisper, the number echoing ominously through the room.

“Wall’s infested good and proper,” the dwarf continues, oblivious to the cold sweat breaking out on my brow. “Got to open her up, clear them out, then patch her back together. Pixie dust mites are no laughing matter.”

“Tell me about it,” I mutter, sarcasm my flimsy shield against the tidal wave of panic.

The inn cannot take this hit—financially or structurally. But I can’t let this infestation spread. Each sparkling mite is a potential catastrophe.

“Start the work,” I say, injecting false confidence into my voice. “Immediately.”

My hand trembles as I pass the scroll back to him, but I steady it quickly. Can’t show weakness, not now. Brorik needs to believe I have these funds available, or he won’t do the work.

“Right away, Miss Parker.” Brorik tucks the scroll into his belt. “I’ll go get the rest of my supplies and a crew to help.” His boots thud heavily as he leaves the room and makes his way down the stairs.

I lean against the cool wall, letting its solid presence anchor me for a moment. This place has survived much. We’ll survive this too, somehow.

“Twenty thousand dollars,” I repeat to myself, the words a mantra as I push off the wall.

Time to get creative. Fundraisers, loans, possibly even selling one of the enchanted paintings. There has to be a way.

As I descend the stairs, the comforting scent of coffee and baked goods wafts up from the cafe. Chef Glim’s famous scones...yes, that’s what I need right now. Eating my feelings with some buttery goodness.

I push through the swinging doors into the cafe, the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla wrapping around me.

The hum of conversation buzzes in the air, mingling with the soft tinkle of enchanted wind chimes that hang by the windows. It’s supposed to be calming, but right now, every sound seems amplified, every color too bright. I’m desperate for something, anything, to distract me from the twenty thousand dollar disaster looming over the inn.

Turning to the display case, my gaze settles on the golden-brown mounds of baked goodness. But before I can make my selection, a deep, gruff voice captures my attention. I glance over my shoulder, spotting Thorak Ironfist seated at a nearby table with Robert Kingsley, who looks stiff and supremely uncomfortable in the orc’s presence.

“Mariah?” Glim’s voice pulls me back to the present and I turn back to look at them standing behind the display case. Glim’s hair is a light pastel green today; they change it daily. “Scone like usual? They’re pickled raisin ones today.” They hand me a plate with a baked good that looks like it could win awards.

“Thanks,” I reply, trying to sound cheerier than I am.

Cradling the plate like a lifeline, I find a secluded table near the back and try not to eavesdrop too obviously on Thorak and Mr. Kingsley. Despite my desire to see Thorak’s dreams crushed, I don’t like the idea of anyone being discriminated against.

Not even the orc who once thought tying my shoelaces together was peak comedy.

I take a bite of the scone, letting its buttery warmth spread through me—a small comfort amid the chaos.

Bits and pieces of Thorak and Mr. Kingsley’s talk float over; Thorak’s smooth baritone is hard to ignore.

“Business...human realm...distributing...”

The one thing I’ve heard about Thorak over the past decade is that he’s started his own craft brewery, breaking away from his parents’ extremely successful brewing conglomerate. Thorak’s taproom is popular but I’ve avoided it like the plague.

I frown. Who would’ve thought? Thorak, hawking his brews to humans. Isn’t he the same guy who used to rant about purity and staying true to his roots?

“Quality,” Thorak says confidently, leaning forward, “that’s what sets us apart.”

Mr. Kingsley eyes him warily. “Your operation will need to scale up, though, if you want to distribute widely. Are you prepared for that?”

“Absolutely,” Thorak assures him. “The brewery’s ready for expansion.”

I feel a twinge of...something. Is it admiration? For Thorak, of all people? Absolutely not. I shove another piece of scone in my mouth.

Mr. Kingsley sniffs. “Well, I’ll want to talk to the human in charge of your business development matters, of course.”

I shake my head. This man is so predictable and small-minded.

Thorak frowns. “I’m sorry if there was a miscommunication, Robert, but I run my own business development.”

It’s the wrong answer, clearly. Mr. Kingsley’s eyes narrow. “There aren’t any humans on your staff who can be our intermediary? I really would prefer to interface with someone who understands humans and human business matters. I think it may be a little over your head.”

The gall of this guy is astounding. I have half a mind to kick him out of the inn.

Thorak’s jaw drops momentarily and then he shakes the shock off his face, back to business. “No humans on staff, but uh…” He scans around the room, as if searching for a satisfactory response to this prejudice.

We lock eyes and my face flushes. I’ve been caught snooping.

He glances back to Mr. Kingsley. “My fiancée is human.”

My scone gets stuck in my throat and I cough, loudly, spraying crumbs across the table.

Thorak Ironfist, the bane of my high school existence, with a human fiancée? Thorak, who once told me humans were the most inferior species on the planet? Who had half of our grade feigning that they smelled something awful every time I walked into a room?

There’s no way Thorak, with all his disdain for humans, has a human fiancée.

No way.

But as I grab a napkin and wipe down the table, an almost definitely awful idea begins to form in my head.

3

THORAK

The words slipped between my tusks before I could stop them.

“My fiancée is human.”

Gods above. Why would I say that?

I glance back over to Mariah, who is inelegantly coughing up her scone at a table in the corner. Even red-faced and wheezing, she’s beautiful. Always has been.

If I wasn’t sitting directly across from the man who holds my brewery’s future in his hands, I would get up and bolt out of here before I could make even more of an ass out of myself in front of her. Mariah’s seen enough idiocy from me to last a lifetime.

“Really?” Robert’s eyebrow quirks up, a challenge in his gaze.

I grunt an affirmation and nod. Just digging myself into an ore-deep hole now.

But truthfully, I would say and do anything to get Robert to agree to distribute my ales. And it is very, very clear that this prejudiced man will not agree to do business with me unless he thinks that there’s a human somewhere behind the scenes, acting as the brain behind my brawny muscle.

Still. Human fiancée. I don’t have a girlfriend anymore, let alone a fiancée, let alone a human one.

Maybe I’m as dumb as he clearly thinks I am.

My only explanation is that this entire morning—one unending series of disasters—addled all the sense out of my damned brain.

The day started badly when I was awoken by ten panicked texts and a series of missed calls from my sister Gruna. After figuring out that something was up at the brewery, I hightailed it over there still half-asleep and groggy.

I shoved open the back door of the brewery with enough force that it slammed against the wall, leaving a dent to deal with later. The chaos hit me like a wave—the stench of burnt barley and hops, the hiss of escaping steam, and Gruna ankle-deep in frothy, sticky wort painting the floor.

“Thorak!” she yelled over the clamor. Her amber eyes were wide, her hands coated in the sweet, gooey mess as she struggled to wrench the valve on a malfunctioning mash tun.

Without hesitation, I waded in beside her, our movements synchronized by years of teamwork.

“Three...two...one!” We turned the wheel together, muscles straining until it gave way with a reluctant groan. The flow ceased, leaving only the sound of our labored breathing and the soft drip, drip, drip of the aftermath.

“Still think opening a brewery was a good idea?” Gruna teased, a smirk playing on her lips despite the catastrophe surrounding us.

“Better than letting Dad keep all the fun to himself,” I grunted, surveying the damage. Brewing isn’t just tossing ingredients together; it’s alchemy, a dance with elements both mundane and magical. And right then, that dance had turned into a stumble.

We set to work cleaning the mess, our arms moving in rhythm as we shoveled the ruined grains into bins. Gruna’s laughter rang out when I accidentally flicked a dollop of wort onto her cheek. She retaliated, flinging a handful back at me, and for a moment, the weight on my shoulders lifted.

“Watch it, or you’ll wear the next batch,” I warned playfully, though there was a warmth behind my words reserved only for her.

“Promises, promises,” she shot back, and we fell into a comfortable silence, save for the scrape of shovels and slosh of mops.

As the mess receded and the equipment began to gleam anew, my thoughts drifted to the meeting I had in a few hours at the Moonflower Inn.

Of all the places Robert could have chosen, he picked Mariah’s inn.

My chest tightened as memories of high school foolishness played across my mind. How I tormented her, how her face twisted in pain from my cruel jibes.

The best thing I’d done over the past decade was give Mariah some space from me.

Perhaps she wouldn’t be there this morning. She could be out on an errand, and I’d continue to avoid responsibility for being a fucking idiot.

“Let’s focus on getting things running again,” I declared, trying to shake Mariah out of my mind.

Gruna nodded, and we set to work recalibrating the mash tun. The rhythmic clanking of metal on metal was a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. My large hands maneuvered with practiced ease, tightening bolts and checking gauges. We moved in a silent dance, the unspoken language of siblings who’ve weathered many storms together.

“Thorak,” Gruna said, her voice carrying over the hum of machinery, “Mum and Dad were asking about Ygra again.” She paused, watching me for a reaction. “They still think you two are destined for each other.”

I groaned.

Ygra and I had dated for four years. My parents loved her; still did. She was a giantess whose clan hailed from an area nearby our family’s historical clan.

At first, things were great—Ygra was fierce, ambitious, and stunningly beautiful. But over time, the cracks started to show. Ygra thought I should have taken over my parents’ brewery, which is the most popular in the magical world. She wanted me to expand our wealth and influence. Ygra liked the status and power that came from operating a conglomerate like that.

When I told her about my plans to strike out on my own and open a craft brewery, Ygra laughed in my face. It was the beginning of the end for us. We broke up a year ago.

“Not this again, Gruna,” I said, my voice a low rumble. “That part of my life...it’s over.”

Gruna clicked her tongue, pausing to look at me. “They just want you happy, big bro. You know that, right?”

“Happy,” I echo, the word tasting like unsalted porridge. The truth is, my happiness lies here, in the brewery, not in rekindling old flames. “Right.”

Once the brewery was cleaned up, I left Gruna to go get ready for my meeting, and then headed to the Moonflower Inn. The quaint, cozy building seemed to mock me with its welcoming glow. I paused at the door, my hand hovering over the weathered wood.

Just get it over with, Thorak. In and out. You’re here for business, not Mariah.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside, immediately smelling freshly baked bread and something floral I couldn’t quite place. My eyes scanned the room, searching for Robert Kingsley, but instead landed on her.

Mariah.

Gods above, she was as gorgeous as ever.

She stood behind the reception desk, her chestnut hair pulled back in a messy bun, a few stray tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. Even in a simple white blouse and jeans, she radiated an effortless beauty that made something turn over inside of me. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Mariah was a dream I never allowed myself to have, a wish upon a star that I extinguished with my own hands.

Our eyes locked across the room. Surprise flashed across her face, quickly replaced by a guarded expression. I couldn’t blame her. The last time we’d been this close, I’d been a heartless brute, spewing venom with every word.

I approached her for directions to Robert and she was politer than she needed to be. Our interaction was brief, and if it had been anyone else, it would’ve been forgettable.

But nothing about Mariah has ever been forgettable to me.

I walked into the cafe in a daze, and haven’t been able to shake it ever since.

Now, steam from my freshly brewed cup of elderflower tea curls upwards, cutting through the tension that’s settled over the table like a thick fog. Robert Kingsley’s eyes—sharp as the blade of a ceremonial dagger—narrow slightly, scrutinizing me with an intensity that could carve stone.

“So your human fiancée,” he says. “Does she help with Orc’s Anvil Brewing?”

The lie that slipped out earlier now coils around me like a serpent, squeezing tighter with every breath. Mariah’s presence in the cafe is a constant hum in the background, her proximity a reminder of the tangled web I’ve inadvertently woven.

“Not directly,” I respond, trying to walk things back already. “We orcs take great pride in our craft.”

Robert’s brows furrow, and I can tell I’ve given him the wrong answer. Why fabricate a human fiancée if she’s not even going to be filling this role he so clearly wants her in?

I remind myself that Robert Kingsley is the only distributor that I’ve found who would even consider bringing our ales to human lands. I need this deal to go through if I’m going to expand the business the way I’ve envisioned.

“She gives me great counsel, though,” I continued. “She’s not technically an employee of the brewery—” Since she doesn’t exist. “—But I don’t make any business decisions without her weigh-in.”

There, that should satisfy him.

“Very well.” Robert stands abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping across the wooden floor like claws on bark. “I look forward to meeting her. Dinner tomorrow evening, then?”

My stomach bottoms out.

“Tomorrow?” The word chokes me, lodging itself in my throat like a bad omen.

“Indeed.” He extends a hand, and I grasp it, ignoring his vice-like grip. “It will be enlightening to see how an orc navigates a human relationship.”

With a final nod, he strides away, leaving me to grapple with the enormity of my blunder. The silence left in his wake rings louder than any spoken word, and I sit there, motionless, the warmth of the tea now a cold comfort.

“Damnation,” I growl to myself, my eyes scanning the room for an escape that isn’t there. The walls of the Moonflower Inn close in on me, adorned with enchanted wind chimes that tinkle merrily, mocking my distress.

I push to my feet, the chair groaning in protest, my mind a tempest of strategies to wriggle out of the lie I’ve spun. I could use MagicMatch; swipe right until I find someone willing to play the part.

But no, it’s too risky. Too false.

“A human, huh? That’s a surprise.” Mariah’s voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts, a sharp blade of familiarity.

I straighten up to my full height, turning to face her. She stands there, arms crossed under her chest, her emerald eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that feels like a physical force.

“Mariah,” I say, my voice rough around the edges. “Look, I⁠—”

“Save it,” she snaps, cutting me off. She moves closer, the scent of her lavender perfume wrapping around me. It’s disarming, that smell, reminiscent of the wildflowers that grow on the outskirts of Elderberry Falls, where our two worlds blend into one. “I know that was a lie.”

She leans in, and I brace myself, expecting a storm of accusations or a scathing rebuke. Her hair falls in waves, a cascade of chestnut that brushes against my arm, stirring something ancient and protective within me.

“I’ll be your fiancée.”

The words hang between us, a lifeline thrown into the turbulent sea of my conscience. I blink, unsure if the magic of the inn is playing tricks on my ears.

“You...what?” I stammer, caught completely off guard.

Her gaze never wavers, her determination etched in the set of her jaw and the steel in her stance. “You heard me, Thorak. I’ll pretend to be your human fiancée.”

4

THORAK

Isit back down in surprise at her words.

Mariah immediately sits down next to me, her gaze boring into mine with intensity. I catch another whiff of her scent—lavender and honey, with an intoxicating undercurrent that’s uniquely her. My body reacts instantly, desire pooling in my groin. I shift in my seat, trying to adjust myself discreetly as my cock stiffens.

This is trouble.

“Just what I said,” Mariah repeats firmly. “I’ll be your fake fiancée, Thorak. But it comes at a price.”

The cafe bustles around us but all I can focus on is the tantalizing woman before me and the insane proposal she’s making. Is she serious? My head spins.

Mariah continues. “The inn has an infestation of pixie dust mites I need eradicated immediately. But the exterminator costs twenty thousand dollars that I don’t have.” She arches one perfect brow. “If you give me the money, I’ll play your loving bride-to-be for as long as you need me to fool Mr. Kingsley.”

My thoughts race as I process her offer. It’s a terrible idea for so many reasons. I should march over to Robert right now, come clean about my stupid lie, and beg for forgiveness. That would be the honorable thing to do.

But...the temptation to have Mariah close, to finally act on the forbidden crush I’ve harbored for over a decade, is overwhelming. More than that, this could be my one chance to make amends for how despicably I treated her back in high school. I’ve wanted to apologize for years but could never figure out how to approach her.

Our fake relationship might give me the opportunity to show I’ve changed and earn her forgiveness.

I flex my large green hands on the table, warring with myself. Mariah watches me intently, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes that she quickly masks. Fuck, even after everything, seeing her still makes my blood pound stupidly in my veins.

I know I shouldn’t say yes. It’s reckless and wrong. But with Mariah gazing at me, smelling divine, every fiber of my being yearns to agree, consequences be damned...

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I nod slowly. “Okay. I agree to your terms.”

Mariah knows I’m loaded. My family was one of the founding clans of Elderberry Falls, and my parents own the most renowned brewery in the entire magical realm. Twenty grand is pocket change to me.

A small price to pay for a shot at redemption with the woman I’ve never been able to forget.

Mariah sits back in her chair, a satisfied smile curving her lush lips. “Good,” she replies crisply, pulling a notepad and pen from her apron pocket. “Now, let’s hammer out the details of our little arrangement, shall we?”

Over the next hour, ensconced in the bustling cafe, Mariah and I meticulously craft the specifics of our fake relationship. I explain my tenuous association with Robert Kingsley: he’s a potential investor and distributor for Orc’s Anvil. While I don’t necessarily need his coin, I’m desperate for his far-reaching distribution network. I need it if I’m ever going to break into the human market in a major way. I have a mere two weeks to win him over before he leaves town.

“Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking,” Mariah says, tapping her pen against the notepad. “We’ll say we reconnected on MagicMatch a while back. Chatted, met up for coffee, and boom—instant chemistry.” She glances back up at me and the fire rages in my veins again. Instant chemistry won’t be too hard to fake. “Whirlwind romance, fell madly in love, quick engagement. Sound good?”

I nod, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens at the thought of a passionate affair with Mariah, even an imaginary one. “Works for me. We should probably have a timeline too, make it believable. First date, first kiss, when I popped the question...”

We dive into crafting an intricate history of our bogus courtship. We agree that six weeks is a logical timeline, long enough to seem serious yet short enough to explain why we’re not shouting our supposed engagement from the rooftops.

I almost forget it’s all a sham, getting swept up in the fantasy. But reality comes crashing back as we start discussing boundaries.

“Okay, ground rules,” Mariah states, her tone all business. “We’ll need to have public displays of affection. Even when we think no one’s watching, we need to sell it. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch—it all counts.”

I swallow hard. Anyone with a lick of sense can probably see how I look at her already.

“No touching below the waist,” she continues. “Kissing on the cheek is fine, but keep it chaste in public. In private, we’re business partners only, got it?”

“Got it,” I agree gruffly, hoping she can’t hear the disappointment in my voice. I know I have no right to want more, but my treacherous heart aches at the limitations.

I clear my throat. “One more thing. If we’re going to pull this off, we have to make it convincing. Robert will be attending some events around town, and other people we know will be there. If anyone suspects we’re lying, it could blow back on both of us big time.”

Mariah nods solemnly, jotting notes. “I hear you,” she says. “We’ll make them all believe in our undying love.”

I exhale heavily, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. Two weeks of pretending to be madly in love with Mariah, the woman of my dreams ... who also happens to despise me. Two weeks of torturous bliss, fighting my real feelings, trying not to fall deeper under her intoxicating spell.

“Alright then, partner,” Mariah says, extending her hand across the table. Her grip is firm, solid.

“Partner,” I affirm, shaking her hand. The contact sends an unexpected jolt through me and bittersweet certainty sinks into my bones.

These next fourteen days will either be my sweetest fantasy come true—or my ultimate undoing.

The familiar, comforting scent of hops and malts envelops me as I stride back into Orc’s Anvil Brewing Co., my sanctuary and pride. Gleaming copper kettles catch the warm light, while barrels of aging ale line the stone walls. I breathe deep, savoring the rich, earthy aroma that never fails to settle my nerves.

But today, even surrounded by my life’s work, my mind churns with the enormity of the arrangement I’ve struck with Mariah.

Fake fiancée. The words echo in my skull. What in the seven hells was I thinking?

I spot Gruna hunched over paperwork in the taproom, her brow creased in concentration. She glances up as I approach.

“Brother! Welcome back. You’ll never guess what else happened here today. That rickety keg washer finally crapped out, mid-cycle. Suds everywhere! Thank the spirits for Fizz—that crafty little goblin had spare parts on hand. We’re back on track, but yeesh, talk about panic.”

I make a mental note to give Fizz a bonus for his quick thinking. “Good ol’ Fizz,” I grunt.

Gruna’s eyes narrow at whatever she reads on my face. “What’s going on? Did the meeting with Kingsley go okay?”

With a deep breath, I meet Gruna’s worried gaze. “It went okay, but there’s something I need to tell you,” I begin, my voice low and tense.

Gruna huffs. “Thorak, what did you do?”

I wince at the accusation in her tone. Damn, she knows me too well. Rubbing the back of my neck, I forge ahead. “I may have...told Kingsley I’m engaged. To a human.”

“You what?!” Gruna’s screech echoes through the taproom.

“Keep your voice down!” I hiss, glancing around to make sure we’re alone. “It just slipped out, okay? Kingsley was going on about the importance of having a human presence in our business and I panicked!”

Gruna pinches the bridge of her nose, her trinkets jangling as she shakes her head. “Thorak, this is a disaster waiting to happen. How could lie about something so idiotic—and so easy to disprove?”

I bristle at the disapproval in her voice. “You think I don’t know that? But I have a solution, of sorts.” Taking a fortifying breath, I drop the real bombshell. “Mariah Parker overheard. And she’s agreed to play along...for a price.”

Gruna’s jaw drops. “Mariah Parker? As in the girl you tormented all through high school?”

I flinch at the blunt reminder of my past misdeeds. “Yes, her. She needs money to deal with a pixie dust mite infestation at the inn. If I cover the cost, she’ll pretend to be my fiancée until Kingsley leaves town.”

“This is insane, Thorak!” Gruna throws up her hands. “There’s no way Ma and Da don’t find out. You know what they think about humans!”

A wave of shame washes over me at the thought of our parents’ prejudice. Our whole lives, they’ve drilled into us the importance of sticking to our own kind. Of upholding orc traditions and rejecting the “corrupting influence” of other species—especially humans.

But I’m not a child anymore. And I refuse to let their narrow-minded views dictate my life. Or your heart, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. I do my best to ignore it.

“They won’t find out,” I insist, injecting confidence into my voice. “Kingsley’s only here for two weeks. I’ll wine and dine him, dazzle him with the brewery’s potential. Once he’s on board, Mariah and I will stage a quick, quiet ‘breakup’ and that’ll be that.”

Gruna still looks skeptical, but I can see her resistance wavering. “I don’t like this, Thorak. It’s too risky. What if Kingsley finds out? What if...what if you catch feelings for real? I’ve seen the way you look at her...”

My stomach twists with unease, a sinking sensation I can’t quite shake. The thought of this fake engagement ending, of having to stay away from Mariah all over again, even if our relationship is never real...it physically pains me. But I swallow hard and force a gruff chuckle, trying to play it off.

“Relax, sis. I’ve got this under control. Mariah and I are both professionals. We know what we’re doing.”

Gruna’s amber eyes bore into me, seeing straight through my forced bravado. She’s always had an uncanny ability to read me like an open book, ever since we were whelps. With a soft sigh, she reaches out and squeezes my shoulder.

“Just be careful, okay?” Her voice is gentle but firm. “Don’t let your heart get tangled up in this mess. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” I rasp, the words sticking in my throat like shards of glass.

Gruna clearly doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t push. Just gives my shoulder a final comforting squeeze before pulling back.

Needing a distraction, I grab a tall stein and head over to the taps, pouring myself a generous helping of our latest brew—a rich, dark oatmeal stout with hints of coffee and chocolate.

I raise the glass to my lips and the brew slides down my throat, smooth and slightly sweet. But it does little to quell the turmoil raging inside me. As I stare into the inky depths of my glass, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a precarious cliff...

And I’m terrified that this fake engagement might be the thing that finally makes me fall.

5

MARIAH

Istand before the full-length mirror in my cozy living quarters, which are nestled to the side of the inn’s premises. My gaze flicks over my reflection—the flowing earth-toned blouse, my nicest pair of jeans, my broken-in and comfortable ankle boots. I look good, even if this whole evening is an elaborate farce.

“It’s just business,” I mutter, meeting my own eyes in the glass. “A means to an end. That’s all.”

But even as the words leave my lips, a flicker of doubt curls in my stomach. Memories drift unbidden to the surface, dredged up from a past I’d rather forget. High school. Thorak’s cruel sneer as he cornered me by the lockers, his orcish bulk looming over me.

“Look at the little human girl,” he’d sneered, thick fingers pinching my cheek hard enough to bruise. “Thinking she’s good enough to walk these halls with the rest of us. You’re nothing, you know that? Just a pathetic sack of mundane flesh.”

His words had cut deep, targeting every insecurity with ruthless precision. But even then, I refused to cower. I held his gaze, defiant even as angry tears pricked the corners of my eyes. He could mock my humanity all he wanted—I knew my own worth.

A buzz from my phone jolts me back to the present. I fumble for it, swiping to accept the call.

“Hey, songbird,” I greet my best friend, Ecco. “What’s up?”

A heavy sigh crackles through the speaker. “Mar, I don’t know what to do. That gig at the Crooked Broom fell through and rent’s due next week and I just...”

Her normally melodic voice cracks. Ecco’s struggled so much lately, her siren’s allure no match for reality. If I’m judged for being human, Ecco is judged just as much for her siren powers. She’s done nothing to earn scorn but it follows her everywhere.

It’s part of the reason we bonded, all those years ago.

“Come perform at the Moonflower,” I say without hesitation. “Tomorrow night. I’ll clear the stage in the dining room, spread the word. We’ll pack the place, I know it.”

“I don’t know,” Ecco hedges, her tone laced with uncharacteristic doubt. “What if no one shows? What if they hate me? I can’t afford another flop right now, Mar.”

I perch on my bed, the patchwork quilt soft beneath my fingertips. “They could never hate you. Your voice is pure magic—it’ll draw them in droves. And I’ll be right there in the front row, cheering you on. We’ll get through this, Ecco. Together. Like always.”

There’s a long pause, then a shuddery exhale. “Okay,” she says at last. “I trust you. If you think this will help, I’m in.”

“I know it will,” I assure her, injecting confidence into my tone. “The Moonflower’s yours.”

“Love you, Mar,” Ecco says. “Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“Back at you, Ecco. Always.”

I hang up without telling her about the deal I struck with Thorak, and there’s a twinge of guilt in my stomach for not being immediately honest and open about it.

I know Ecco would never approve of me making a deal with Thorak, even a fake one. Not after the hell he put me through. She was there for all of it, holding me as I cried, plotting elaborate revenge schemes we never followed through on. If she knew I was willingly spending time with him now, even if it was to save my inn...

I can already picture the disappointment on her face, the concern in her ocean-blue eyes. She’d tell me it’s not worth it, that there has to be another way. That Thorak can’t be trusted, no matter how much he claims to have changed.

And maybe she’d be right. But I also know that desperate times call for desperate measures. And right now, I’m drowning in desperation.

I smooth my hands over my blouse, straightening invisible wrinkles. No more stalling. I look good, and more importantly, I feel good. Confident. Ready to take on whatever the night throws my way.

With a deep breath, I grab my clutch and head out the door. The inn is quiet tonight, most of the guests either out enjoying Elderberry Falls’ vibrant nightlife or tucked away in their rooms. I’m grateful for the solitude as I make my way outside, the cool evening air a welcome respite from the nervous energy thrumming through my veins.

Thorak is waiting for me at the restaurant, a trendy spot called Fusion that’s known for its innovative blend of human and monster cuisine. As I approach, I take a moment to appreciate the way his dark suit jacket fits his broad frame, the fabric straining slightly against his muscular shoulders. He looks good, too.

Damn him.

“Mariah,” he greets me, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “You look stunning.”

I force a smile, reminding myself that this is all an act. “Thank you.”

“I have something for you.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring. An engagement ring.

My breath catches as I take in the intricate design, the way the delicate gold band wraps around itself like vines, leading to a large, brilliant emerald at the center. It’s gorgeous, and undeniably orcish in its craftsmanship.

“Thorak,” I breathe, my eyes wide. “It’s beautiful. But isn’t this a bit...much? For a fake engagement?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Go big or go home, right? If we’re going to convince Robert, we need to sell it.”

I nod, swallowing hard as he takes my hand in his, his skin warm and slightly calloused against mine. He slides the ring onto my finger, and I’m struck by how right it looks, nestled against my skin.

Get a grip, Mariah. This isn’t real.

I take a deep breath and link my arm through his, putting on my most dazzling smile as we enter the restaurant. The hostess, a friendly dryad with flowers woven through her hair, leads us to our table, where Robert is already waiting.

The interior of Fusion is a marvel, a perfect blend of rustic and modern. Exposed brick walls are adorned with abstract art, while sleek metal light fixtures cast a warm glow over the space. The tables are a rich, dark wood, each one featuring a unique centerpiece that showcases the restaurant’s commitment to innovation. At one table, a delicate ice sculpture shaped like a dragon emits puffs of colorful smoke. At another, a miniature garden of bioluminescent mushrooms pulses with an otherworldly glow.

As we make our way through the restaurant, I take in the diverse crowd, a mix of humans and various monster species. A group of elves shares a laugh over a plate of shimmering, iridescent sushi. A vampire couple clinks glasses of a deep red liquid that could be wine...or something else entirely.

Kingsley stands as we approach, his expression guarded as he takes in my arm linked through Thorak’s. I paste on my most convincing smile, channeling all the love and affection I can muster as I gaze up at the orc beside me.

Here goes nothing.

“You’re…the innkeeper,” Kingsley says slowly, recognition lighting up his eyes. “Right?”

“Mariah,” I say, holding out a hand. He shakes it stiffly. “It’s so good to see you again!”

As we settle into our seats, I catch Kingsley’s gaze darting around the restaurant, his brow furrowed. He seems to be taking in the unusual decor and the diverse clientele with a mix of fascination and unease.

I lean closer to Thorak, placing a hand on his muscular arm. “This place is amazing, isn’t it, honey?” I say, loud enough for Robert to hear. “I love how it brings everyone together.”

Thorak nods, his golden eyes warm as they meet mine. “Absolutely. It’s one of our favorite spots in town.”

I flip open the menu, scanning the array of unfamiliar dishes. “Ooh, look at this,” I say, pointing to a particular item. “Dragon fire chili. Have you ever tried that, Robert?”

Kingsley clears his throat, looking distinctly out of his element. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Oh, you must!” I insist, my voice bright with enthusiasm. “It’s a specialty here, and it’s absolutely delicious. The chef uses a special blend of spices that really brings out the flavor without being too spicy.”

Thorak nods in agreement. “Mariah’s right. It’s a must-try.”

I make a show of perusing the menu, asking Thorak for his recommendations and showcasing our familiarity with each other. “What about the mermaid’s tear risotto, babe? Remember how much we loved that last time?”

As the evening progresses, Thorak and I work to keep the conversation light and engaging.

“...and then, if you can believe it, the pixie sneezed and accidentally turned the entire town square pink!” I recount, grinning at the memory. “It took a week for the color to fade, but in the meantime, it was like living in a cotton candy wonderland.”

Kingsley listens, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. I make a point to include him in the conversation, asking about his own experiences and thoughts on the town.

When our food arrives, I admire the artistic presentation. My mushroom and mermaid’s tear risotto is a swirl of iridescent blues and greens, topped with delicate edible flowers. Thorak’s dragon fire chili is served in a miniature cauldron that flickers with enchanted flames.

“Trust me, Robert, you won’t regret trying this,” I say, offering him a bite of my risotto. “The chef uses a special ingredient, mermaid’s tears, which are said to evoke feelings of joy and contentment in those who consume them.”

As Kingsley hesitantly takes a bite, I catch Thorak’s eye, searching for any sign that our act is working. He gives me a subtle nod, his hand finding mine beneath the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

But despite our efforts, Kingsley’s questions become more pointed as the evening progresses.

He leans forward, fixing us with a probing stare. “So, tell me, how do you two plan to navigate the challenges of an interspecies relationship? Surely, there must be some...obstacles?”

Thorak tenses beside me, but I place a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Of course. Every relationship has its challenges,” I say, my voice calm and assured. “But Thorak and I have found that open communication and a willingness to understand each other’s perspectives go a long way.”

Thorak nods, his golden eyes softening as they meet mine. “Mariah has taught me so much about human customs and traditions, and I’ve shared my own orcish heritage with her. It’s a constant learning process, but one that brings us closer together.”

Kingsley hums, his expression still guarded. He turns to me, his gaze sharp. “And what about Thorak’s business? As his fiancée, surely you must be well-versed in his operations? What do you think of his financials and his plans to expand in the current economy?”

My stomach clenches as I race to formulate a response. “Let’s not ruin our evening with talk of numbers,” I deflect, hopefully smoothly. “We have the rest of your trip to discuss business. Tonight is about getting to know each other better.”

“You’re right, of course,” Kingsley says. But he leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. I can tell he’s not entirely convinced, and I make a mental note to learn more about Thorak’s business as soon as possible.

As the meal comes to an end, I find myself eager for a change of scenery. “Why don’t we take a stroll through the enchanted gardens?” I suggest, hoping my eyes convey nothing but innocent excitement. “They’re absolutely breathtaking at night.”

Thorak stands, offering me his hand. “That sounds perfect.”

As we make our way to the gardens, I can’t help but marvel at the magical atmosphere. The air is filled with the soft glow of luminescent flowers, their petals shimmering in shades of lavender, turquoise, and gold. Shimmering fountains cast dancing lights across the winding paths.

I take Thorak’s hand, interlacing our fingers together as we walk. His skin is warm and rough against mine, a reminder of the strength and power that lies beneath his gentle touch. I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder as we admire the beauty around us.

For a moment, I allow myself to get lost in the magic of the moment. The worries of the day fade away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. This garden, this moment—it’s bewitching, and for the first time tonight, I can almost believe in the fairytale we’re pretending to live.

But as we round a corner, I catch sight of Kingsley’s expression, still etched with doubt and suspicion. I know our work is far from over, and I silently vow to do whatever it takes to convince him of our love.

Even if it means delving deeper into Thorak’s world and confronting the demons of our past.

Kingsley clears his throat, drawing my attention back to the present moment. “I think my allergies are acting up,” he says, his voice strained. “I’m going to head back to my room. Thank you for dinner, Mariah, Thorak.”

We say our goodbyes, and I watch as Kingsley disappears down the path, his shoulders hunched against the cool night air. As soon as he’s out of sight, I let out a breath.

Thorak guides me to a secluded bench, and we sink down onto the cool stone. For a moment, we sit in silence, the weight of the evening hanging heavy between us.

“That was intense,” I say finally, breaking the silence. “I don’t think he’s fully convinced yet.”

Thorak nods, his expression thoughtful. “We’ll need to keep up the charade a bit longer. We could invite him to the monster market soon, show him how well we fit into each other’s worlds.”

I nod, but a flicker of doubt crosses my mind. “About that...I think I should learn more about your business, Thorak. Kingsley had a lot of questions tonight that I couldn’t answer. If we’re going to make this believable, I need to know what I’m talking about.”

Thorak turns to me, his expression shifting from the stoic mask he wore for Kingsley to something softer, something vulnerable. That look—it stirs up a whirlwind inside of me, scattering my thoughts like leaves in a storm. This is Thorak Ironfist, but not the same one who haunts the corridors of my memory.

“Of course,” he says softly. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Come by the brewery tomorrow. I want this to work, Mariah. I want him to believe in us.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, and I find myself leaning closer, drawn in by the warmth of his presence. Thorak reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and something swoops in my belly.

“Mariah,” he murmurs, his voice low and deep. “I know this isn’t easy for you, being here with me like this. But I want you to know that I’m grateful for what you’re doing. Even if it cost me twenty thousand dollars.”

A laugh bubbles up from my chest, and the tension between us momentarily defuses. But still, I can’t shake the sensation of something shifting inside me, a flicker of emotion that I can’t quite name.

Could it be possible that Thorak has truly changed? That the cruel bully who tormented me all those years ago is gone, replaced by the man sitting beside me now—someone that I find myself wanting to know better?

“Let’s call it a night,” I say in response, standing up from the bench and brushing down my jeans. The magic of the garden still dances around us, a tempting whisper of what could be.

But fairytales aren’t real, even here in Elderberry Falls. Right?

6

MARIAH

The heavy wooden door creaks as I push it open, revealing the interior of Orc’s Anvil Brewing. A wave of warm, earthy scents washes over me—rich hops, roasted malts, and a hint of something distinctly orcish that I can’t quite place.

Stepping inside, my eyes widen at the unexpectedly inviting taproom. Polished dark wood and gleaming brass fixtures catch the morning light filtering through stained glass windows. Intricate carvings of orcish symbols and fierce warriors adorn the exposed beams. It’s a far cry from the dingy dive bar I’d imagined Thorak running.

“Mariah, you made it!” Thorak’s deep voice echoes across the room as he strides towards me, a broad grin splitting his tusked face. His eyes are alight with what looks like genuine delight.

I’m once again struck by the dissonance between this passionate brewer and the bully from my past.

I force a smile. It doesn’t matter. Whoever he’s become, he’s just a means to an end for me.

“Morning, Thorak. Quite the setup you’ve got here,” I remark, gesturing at the rustic yet refined decor.

“Thanks, I’ve poured my heart into this place. Let me give you the grand tour!” He places a large, warm hand on the small of my back, guiding me towards the gleaming copper brew kettles.

Something deep inside of me warms at his touch. He’s so much bigger than me that it feels like he could wrap one hand around my whole waist. I wonder if he could pick me up one-handed. Maybe use that strength to easily toss me on a bed⁠—

Gods.

It has clearly been too long since I’ve gotten laid if I’m having these sorts of thoughts about Thorak Ironfist. I viciously shove my inappropriate thoughts away.

We wind our way out of the taproom, through the brewery proper, and Thorak animatedly explains each step of the brewing process. His passion is palpable as he describes the locally sourced ingredients and unique techniques he employs.

“So, what’s your annual production capacity?” I ask, gathering intel for our ruse. “And how are you handling distribution currently?”

“We’re cranking out about five thousand barrels a year right now,” Thorak replies, pride evident in his voice. “As for distribution, we’ve got a solid network of local pubs and restaurants, as well as specialty markets in the magical realm. But I haven’t been able to break through to the human lands, and that’s where Robert’s investment comes in.”

I nod thoughtfully. “And what about future plans? Any new brews or collaborations on the horizon?”

Thorak’s face lights up with excitement. “Oh, I’ve got some ideas brewing, pun intended. Been experimenting with a new honey mead using nectar from the enchanted wildflowers in the forest. Plus, I’m in talks with the centaurs about a potential collab using their heirloom grains.”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and for a moment, I forget why I’m here. I can’t ignore the ember of respect kindling inside me. This is a Thorak I never knew existed.

As he speaks, Thorak’s hand drifts from my back to my arm, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I mentally chastise myself for reacting to him this way again.

Stay focused, Mariah. This is all just for show.

We wrap up the tour and Thorak leads me back to the taproom.

“So, what do you think?” he asks, looking at me expectantly.

I look away, trying to collect my thoughts. “I have to admit, I’m impressed.” It pains me to compliment him, but credit where credit is due. “You’ve built something really special here, Thorak. It’s clear how much work you’ve poured into this place.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

For a moment, we simply stand there, eyes locked. The air between us is charged with something I can’t quite name. But then, the moment passes, and I’m left wondering if I imagined the whole thing.

“Well, I should probably head back to the inn,” I say, breaking the silence. “Ecco’s got a big performance tonight, and I promised I’d help her set up.”

Thorak nods, his expression unreadable. “Of course. Thanks for coming by, Mariah. It means a lot to have your support in this.”

Support. Right. Because that’s all this is—a business arrangement, a means to an end. Nothing more. Thorak’s paid the first half of the Mystic Pest bill, but there’s another ten thousand dollars on the line still. The sooner we can convince Kingsley and end this charade, the better.

With a final nod, I turn and head for the door, my mind reeling with conflicting emotions.

Back at the Moonflower Inn, I find Ecco in the lounge, setting up for her performance. She looks every inch the siren, with her shimmering blue hair cascading down her back and her violet eyes dancing with mischief.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” she teases as I approach. “How was your little brewery tour with tall, green, and handsome? He still a monster in every sense of the word?”

This morning, before I headed to Orc’s Anvil, I was overcome by uncharacteristic nerves. Even though I proposed this idea to Thorak, there is a huge part of me waiting for the rug to be pulled out underneath me.

He literally did that to me one time. So the wariness is appropriate.

But instead of letting myself spiral about it, I called Ecco and ended up coming clean to her about the whole arrangement. I needed the moral support. She was understanding about why I needed the money, although shocked about my methods. She talked my confidence back up and assured me she’d be the first person carrying a pitchfork if he crossed me again.

Now, I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool. “It was fine. Just gathering intel.”

Ecco purses her lips. “Just don’t let your guard down.”

I sigh, sinking down onto one of the plush couches. “I don’t know, Ecco. I thought I had Thorak all figured out, but seeing him today...he’s different. More mature, more driven. And the way he looks at me sometimes...”

Ecco settles down beside me, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay to be confused. But just be careful, okay? I would hate for you to get hurt by him again.”

I nod, grateful for her concern. “I know. And I promise, I’m being cautious. Now, enough about my drama. Let’s get this place ready for your big night!”

Together, Ecco and I set about transforming the lounge into a cozy, intimate performance space. We arrange the tables and chairs to create a clear line of sight to the small stage, where Ecco’s microphone and keyboard await. I string up twinkling fairy lights along the walls, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room.

The sun begins to set as the guests arrive for Ecco’s performance. I watch from the back of the room as they filter in, a diverse mix of humans and magical creatures, all drawn by the promise of Ecco’s enchanting voice.

Ecco takes the stage, looking radiant in a flowing, shimmering dress that seems to catch the light with every movement. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and begins to sing.

Instantly, the room is transformed. Ecco’s voice weaves through the air like a gentle breeze, carrying with it a sense of peace and tranquility. The audience’s shoulders relax and their faces soften, as if all their worries and cares have melted away.

Watching Ecco perform confidently in her element, I think back to all the times I’ve seen her struggle. Like the day when her powers first manifested, and she accidentally enchanted half our school’s student body into following her around like lovestruck puppies. Or the time she got kicked out of the school choir because the director was afraid she’d steal the spotlight.

Through it all, Ecco never gave up on her music. She worked tirelessly to master her powers, to find a way to share her gift with the world without losing control.

And now, seeing her up on that stage, captivating the audience with every note, my chest swells of pride on her behalf.

Suddenly, a familiar figure catches my eye from across the room. Robert Kingsley stands near the entrance to the lounge, his usually stoic face softened by a hint of a smile.

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. The man actually seems like he’s enjoying himself, and at a magical performance, no less. He’s tapping his foot along with the music, his eyes bright.

For a moment, I allow myself to hope. Thorak and my ruse could be easier to pull off than we’d anticipated. Maybe Kingsley is less of a bigot than we thought.

But then, as if sensing my gaze, Kingsley’s eyes lock with mine from across the room. In an instant, his demeanor shifts. His smile fades, replaced by a look of flustered embarrassment. He straightens his tie, clears his throat, and quickly turns to exit the lounge, disappearing into the hallway beyond.

I sigh. Or not.

The sooner we get this business with Kingsley done, the better. I want to stop thinking about this.

And about a certain green monster who just happens to be built like a brick house.

7

THORAK

On Monday, I stride into the cavernous entrance of my family’s dwelling. Rough-hewn stone walls are adorned with intricate antique tapestries depicting famous orc battles and hunts. Glowing moss lamps cast a cozy light, illuminating the well-worn but lovingly polished wooden furniture.

The excited shrieks of my younger siblings echo from deeper in the cave as they chase each other in a game of tag. I’m the eldest of seven—large families are the orc way.

Ma’s raucous humming rings out from the kitchen, accompanied by the savory aroma of slow-roasted elk and root vegetables. She’s always happiest when cooking up a feast.

I heft the heavy oak barrel higher on my shoulder, the one I crafted specially for Da’s birthday brew, and make my way to the back of the cave where his workshop lies. As expected, I find him there hunched over his workbench, meticulously carving a new tap handle, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hey, Da,” I greet him. “Brought that barrel for your celebration ale.”

He glances up, golden eyes—identical to mine—flashing with recognition, and gives a gruff nod. “Set it in the corner.”

I comply, then watch as he rises and circles the barrel, thick fingers trailing over the wood, inspecting my craftsmanship with a critical eye. A moment passes, then two. I shift my weight awkwardly.

Finally, he looks up, meeting my gaze. “Solid work,” he grunts, his approval coming out strained, as if it costs him.

“Thanks,” I mutter, but the praise seems hollow, obligatory. The unspoken hangs heavy between us—his disapproval over me starting my own brewery rather than taking over his.

His jaw works as if chewing on words unsaid. I brace myself, but he simply claps a hand on my shoulder. “Best get your Ma to feed you before the whelps eat it all.”

With that, he turns back to his workbench, discussion clearly closed. I linger a moment longer, frustration bubbling. I yearn to declare that I’m forging my own path, that I’m building something incredible. That he should be proud of me.

Instead, I swallow the words like a bitter ale and head back to the warmth of the kitchen. I know deep down that we love each other. But it seems we’re both too stubborn and proud to bridge the chasm between us.

One day, I vow silently. One day I’ll make him understand.

But first, I must secure my brewery’s future. And with a certain bewitching human by my side, I just might pull it off.

In the kitchen, my mother, Mor’ghan, beams at me as I enter.

“Thorak, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the bookstore the other day—Ygra! She looks amazing, and she asked about you. Did you know she was back in town?”

Gods above. This again?

I keep my voice level as I respond, “That’s nice, Ma, but I’m not interested in Ygra. We broke up for a reason.”

Ma’s face falls slightly, but she persists. “I know, dear, but people change. Might it be worth giving her another chance?”

I bite back the urge to snap at her. My mother means well, but her meddling is the last thing I need right now.

A small, petty side of me wants to blurt out that I’m engaged, even if it’s not real. But I hold my tongue, knowing that would only lead to more questions and complications.

Instead, I force a smile and give her a quick hug. “I appreciate the thought, Ma, but I’m too busy for a relationship right now anyway. Now, I really need to get going—I have a meeting with a potential distributor.”

She sighs but relents, patting my cheek affectionately. “Alright, my stubborn boy. But don’t work too hard, you hear?”

I nod before snagging a steaming meat pie from the counter and heading for the door. Ma has always been supportive of me—she’s even been understanding about Orc’s Anvil and my need to forge my own future.

But what would she say if she knew that I was fake engaged to a human?

Later that day, I meet up with Mariah and Robert at the local monster market, a vibrant and chaotic gathering of merchants and artisans from all corners of the magical realm. The air is filled with a cacophony of voices—guttural orc haggling, melodic elven sales pitches, and the occasional squawk of a disgruntled cockatrice. The scents of exotic spices, sizzling meats, and pungent potions mingle together in a heady brew that makes my nostrils flare.

Robert, ever the businessman, is interested in potentially distributing other monster or magical being-run businesses. This market is an important research opportunity for him, a chance to scope out the competition and make valuable connections.

But as we navigate the crowded aisles, it’s clear that the overwhelming sensory experience is taking its toll on the stiff, formal human. His eyes dart nervously from a towering troll hawking enchanted weaponry to a pair of giggling pixies flitting about with trays of shimmering love potions.

Mariah and I exchange a knowing glance, and I have a sudden surge of protectiveness toward her. She may be human, but she belongs here, among the magic and mayhem.

I slide my hand into hers, marveling at how her tiny hand is dwarfed inside of my own. She looks up at me, surprise and something else flickering in those emerald depths.

I lean in close, my voice a low rumble. “I’ll keep you safe from the big, bad monsters.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t quite hide her smile. “My hero,” she drawls sarcastically, but there’s no real bite to it.

As we continue to wind our way through the market, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to do this for real—to hold her hand, to pull her close, to show the world that she’s mine. The thought sends a thrill through me, even as I try to tamp it down.

I remind myself that Mariah hates me. That this arrangement is just a business deal.

But with every brush of her skin against mine, every coy glance from beneath those long lashes, I find myself wishing more and more that it wasn’t.

Suddenly, a familiar, grating voice pierces through the bustling hum of the market. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Thorak Ironfist and Mariah Parker.”

Mariah tenses as we turn to face the source of the interruption.

It’s my former friend Grok, a sour-demeanored troll who, unlike me, never grew out of being a little fuckwad. We stopped talking years ago when his attitude toward non-monsters, especially humans, became completely intolerable to me.

He’s flanked by his old gang of bullies from high school. They look just as mean and arrogant as ever, their faces twisted into cruel sneers.

“Thorak, old friend,” Grok continues, his beady eyes flicking between us. “You running a charity these days, giving tours to slow-witted humans? Can’t imagine why else you’d risk your reputation holding hands with a dirty mundane like Mariah.”

Protective fury builds within me, and I instinctively step forward, putting myself between Mariah and these immature idiots.

“The only slow-witted being around here is you, Grok. What do you want?” I growl, my fingers itching to curl into fists.

The hulking troll throws back his head and laughs, the sound grating against my ears. “What are you getting so upset about, Thor? I thought you hated her. But now you’re—what? Don’t tell me you’re dating a human. Couldn’t find a proper monster woman to tolerate you?”

From the corner of my eye, I see Robert watching the exchange with a furrowed brow, suspicion clouding his features. Shit. This is not the impression I wanted to make.

Mariah’s hand finds mine again, her fingers intertwining with my own. The simple gesture sends a jolt of warmth through me, steadying my rising anger. She steps forward, her chin lifted in defiance.

“Yes, Grok, we’re together,” she says sweetly, though there’s an undercurrent of steel in her voice. “Thorak and I are in love. We’re engaged, in fact. Not that it’s any of your business.”

She turns to me then, and before I can react, she rises up on her tiptoes and presses her soft lips against mine. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids as I instinctively pull her closer, my hand splaying across the small of her back.

The kiss is pure electricity, jolting through my every nerve ending. Mariah’s lips are warm and pliant, molding perfectly against my own as if they were made to fit together. Her lavender scent wraps around me, intoxicating and dizzying.

I forget where we are, forget our audience, forget that this is all supposed to be an act. All that exists in this moment is the slide of her mouth on mine, the sweet taste of her, the tight press of her petite body against my hulking frame.

Gods, it feels so real, so right.

8

MARIAH

Thorak’s mouth is hot and hungry on mine, claiming me with an intensity that steals my breath. The foreign press of his tusks against my cheeks sends a forbidden thrill racing down my spine as his tongue delves deep, tasting, exploring. I melt into him, my hands gripping the front of his shirt for support.

His large hands pull me impossibly closer until I’m molded against him, soft curves yielding to unyielding strength. The hard planes of his muscular body are a startling contrast to my own small frame, igniting my nerve-endings.

I lose myself in the heady sensations—the spicy, masculine scent of him filling my nostrils, the low, rumbling growl emanating from his chest, the searing heat of his touch branding me through my thin blouse.

Rational thought flees as desire, hot and urgent, pools low in my belly.

The lines between us blur with each drugging slide of his lips over mine.

Panting, I break away, my breasts heaving against his solid chest. Thorak’s intense amber eyes, pupils blown wide with barely restrained hunger, bore into my own. In their molten depths, I glimpse a reflection of my own want and confusion.

My cheeks flush hot under his penetrating stare, no doubt turning a vivid scarlet. I pray he’ll attribute it to our very public display and not the desire threatening to consume me.

Thorak tears his gaze away from mine to level a menacing scowl at our gawking former classmates. Grok and the others scatter like frightened mice before the imposing orc, mumbling apologies as they nearly trip over themselves in their haste to retreat.

Watching Thorak stand protectively in front of me, all six foot eight inches of pure, rippling muscle, defending my honor without hesitation—it’s sexy as hell.

And damn him, he knows it, if the smug tilt of his lips is any indication.

I’m torn between wanting to yank him down for another scorching kiss or knee him in the groin for making me feel this way.

Weak and wanting and completely at his mercy.

I decide to take a coward’s way out of this. Better than dealing with the extremely inconvenient and infuriating thoughts currently coursing through me. The ones urging me to climb this giant orc like a tree.

I pretend my phone is ringing.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” I mumble, turning away from Thorak and Kingsley as I press the phone to my ear. “Hello? Yes, this is she.”

I keep my back to them, listening intently to the imaginary caller on the other end. In reality, my mind is racing, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to escape.

“What? No, that’s not acceptable,” I say with feigned frustration, hoping my acting skills are up to par. “I’ll be there right away to sort this out.”

Ending the fake call, I turn back to Thorak and Kingsley, an apologetic expression plastered on my face. “I’m so sorry, but there’s an emergency at the inn. I need to head back immediately to handle it.”

Thorak’s brows furrow, concern etched on his rugged features. “Is everything alright? Do you need me to come with you?”

No way in hell, dude. That would defeat the point of getting away from you.

“No, no, it’s fine. I can handle it. You two stay and enjoy the market.”

Kingsley nods, his eyes flickering between Thorak and me with a knowing glint. The upside of this whole debacle, that little display seems to have him convinced of our love. “Of course, Mariah. We understand. Business comes first.”

I force a smile, my cheeks aching with the effort. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and hurry away, my heart pounding in time with my swift steps. I imagine Thorak’s eyes boring into my back, but I resist the urge to look over my shoulder, afraid of what I might see in his piercing gaze.

The bustling sounds of the monster market fade away as I navigate the winding streets of Elderberry Falls. The memory of Thorak’s lips on mine, the press of his hard body against my softer curves, plays on a torturous loop in my mind.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the treacherous images. I can’t afford to get caught up in whatever this is. I have an inn to save and a future to secure.

Falling for my bully is not part of the plan.

As the Moonflower Inn comes into view, its enchanted stained glass windows glinting in the afternoon sun, a sense of relief washes over me. The inn is the one constant in my life. All that matters is keeping it afloat and building a better life for myself.

I push open the heavy oak door, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and vanilla washing over me like a comforting hug. The lobby is quiet, the only sound the gentle crackling from the hearth.

“Mariah? Is that you?” Laurelle’s melodic voice floats from the reception desk, her silhouette emerging from the back room.

I paste on a bright smile, hoping to mask the turmoil raging inside me. “Hey, Laurelle. Yeah, it’s me.”

But as she steps into the light, her elven features coming into sharp focus, I know I’m busted. Laurelle’s eyes narrow, taking in my flushed cheeks and the way my hands tremble slightly at my sides.

“What happened?” the older woman demands, her voice soft but firm. “And don’t even think about trying to brush it off. I’ve known you most of your life, Mariah Parker, and something is definitely up.”

I sigh, my shoulders sagging under the weight of her perceptive gaze.

Laurelle has always been able to see right through me. Like that time when I was a kid and I tried to hide a stray glowkitten in my room. Laurelle took one look at my guilty face and the telltale glowing bulge under my sweater and marched me straight to Great Auntie Ida to confess.

Laurelle guides me to the plush armchairs by the fireplace, her slender fingers wrapped gently around my wrist.

“Sit,” she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And spill. Every last detail.”

I sink into the cushions, the events of the day catching up to me in a rush of exhaustion and confusion. Laurelle settles into the chair across from me, her gray hair shimmering in the firelight as she leans forward, her expression equal parts concern and determination.

“It’s Thorak,” I admit, the words spilling out. Laurelle knows everything about the fake engagement, in case it comes up when Kingsley is around. “We were at the monster market with Kingsley, and we ran into some of our old classmates. They were being jerks, as usual, and I just...I snapped.”

Laurelle’s brows rise, her lips pursing thoughtfully. “What did you do?”

I bury my face in my hands, my voice muffled by my palms. “I kissed him, Laurelle. In front of everyone. And it was...it was...”

I trail off, unable to find the words to describe the searing intensity of that moment, the way Thorak’s touch had ignited a fire in my veins and left me aching for more.

Laurelle is silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across her delicate features, her eyes gleaming with delight.

“Oh, Mariah,” she says, her voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and understanding. “You have a crush, don’t you?”

My cheeks burn, a telltale blush that I can’t seem to control. “No,” I protest, shaking my head vehemently. “It’s not like that. It’s just...it’s complicated.”

Laurelle arches a delicate eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Complicated how, exactly?”

I sigh, trying to find the words to explain the tangled web of emotions that Thorak stirs up inside me. “He was horrible to me in high school, Laurelle. He made my life a living hell. And now, here I am, pretending to be his fiancée, and I’m...I’m...”

I trail off, unable to admit the truth that’s been gnawing at me ever since that kiss. That despite everything, despite the painful memories and the years of resentment, I’m starting to feel something for Thorak.

Something that terrifies me and thrills me in equal measure.

Laurelle reaches out, her slender hand resting gently on my knee. “Mariah, listen to me. The past is the past. People change. And from what I’ve seen, Thorak is not the same orc he was as a teenager.”

I nod, my throat tight with emotion. “I know. But it’s not just that. It’s...it’s this whole arrangement. It’s supposed to be purely contractual, Laurelle. I can’t afford to catch feelings. Not now. Not with everything else that’s going on.”

Laurelle opens her mouth to respond, but before she can speak, a loud crash echoes from upstairs, followed by a string of colorful curses. I jump to my feet and race up the stairs, Laurelle hot on my heels.

The scene that greets us is one of utter chaos.

Brorik is standing amidst a sea of glittering debris, his face twisted in a scowl. The walls are streaked with shimmering residue, and the air is thick with the cloying scent of pixie dust.

“What happened?” I demand, my voice sharp with worry.

Brorik turns to face me, his expression grim.

“We hit a snag,” he grunts, gesturing to the mess around him. “Turns out these little buggers are a lot more resilient than we thought. We’re gonna need some specialized equipment to get rid of ‘em for good.”

My stomach drops, a sense of dread settling over me like a heavy blanket. “Specialized equipment? How much is that going to cost?”

Brorik shrugs, his eyes darting away from mine. “Hard to say. Could be a couple thousand extra, could be more. Depends on how deep the infestation goes.”

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm the rising panic in my chest.

“No,” I say, my voice firm despite the tremor running through me. “Absolutely not. You gave me a quote, and that’s what I’m paying. I can’t afford any more than that.”

I can’t afford to ask Thorak for any more. Not when things are already getting more complicated than I’d ever imagined.

The dwarf opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a sharp glare. “Make it work,” I snap, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I don’t care how you do it, but you better stick to that original quote. Do you understand me?”

He nods, his expression sullen as he turns back to the task at hand. I watch him for a moment, regretting my sharp tone.

Between the unexpected turn of events with Thorak and the mounting costs of the pixie dust mite extermination, I feel like I’m drowning, the weight of it all threatening to pull me under. But I can’t afford to fall apart. Not now.

Not when everything I’ve worked for is on the line.

The Moonflower is more than just a business to me. It’s my home. It’s what saved my family when my parents both got laid off from their jobs in the human lands and we needed somewhere to go. When Ida died and passed this place along to me, my parents urged me to sell it and join them back in the city where I was born. But I couldn’t.

Elderberry Falls is an extraordinary, otherworldly, extremely special place. And the Moonflower allows me to be a part of the magic, too.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I turn back to Laurelle. “I need a drink,” I mutter, my voice rough with exhaustion. “A strong one.”

9

THORAK

The press of Mariah’s lips against mine still lingers as I make my way back to Orc’s Anvil, a phantom sensation that I can’t shake. I replay the moment over and over in my mind, still not quite believing it happened.

That she kissed me first.

After all this time, all the ways I wronged her in the past, she willingly pressed her soft human mouth to mine. And gods, the way her body pressed against me, so small and delicate compared to my large frame...I’m half-hard just thinking about it now.

I’ve fantasized about kissing Mariah more times than I can count over the years, but the reality blew my imagination out of the water.

In my dreams, there’s a chance this fake engagement could bloom into something real between us. That Mariah might be able to forgive me for how I treated her and see the orc I’ve grown into. The one who wants nothing more than to worship her, body and soul.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I almost miss the figure perched on a barstool as I enter the taproom. Recognition hits me a second later. Finnian. Of course my faerie best friend would show up unannounced today of all days.

A groan builds in my throat. Judging by the mischievous expression on his face, he’s already heard a rumor about my supposed engagement. News always spreads fast around Elderberry Falls.

I duck behind the bar, pouring myself a dark ale from the tap to steel my nerves before the interrogation begins. “Finn,” I greet him gruffly, settling onto the stool beside him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Finn arches one sharp black brow, not beating around the bush. “So, I’ve heard you’ve gone and gotten yourself a fiancée all of a sudden. Does Ygra know about this?”

I take a long swig of ale, the rich, earthy flavor filling my mouth as the liquid burns a pleasant path down my throat. There’s no point in denying it. Finn has always been able to read me like a book. I set my glass down with a sigh.

“It’s...complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it for me, then,” Finn says, his keen eyes missing nothing.

So I do. The whole sordid tale comes pouring out of me—the pixie dust mite infestation at The Moonflower Inn, my deal with Mariah to pay her extermination bill if she pretends to be my fiancée, our fake dates, showing her around the brewery, all of it.

By the time I’m done talking, my hair is mussed from running my hands through it and my ale is empty. I fidget with the glass.

“And then today, while giving a tour of the market to Robert, we ran into Grok and his cronies. You remember that asshole. Well, he started ragging on Mariah, laughing about the idea of us dating. And Mariah, she just...grabbed me and kissed me. Right there in front of everyone.” I shake my head, still marveling over it. “I never thought...”

Finn leans back in his seat, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you? Just like you always have been.”

The truth of it washes over me. I don’t deny it. I can’t.

My silence speaks volumes as I stare into the depths of my empty ale glass.

Desperate for guidance, I turn to Finn, my usually gruff voice cracking with vulnerability. “What should I do? How do I get Mariah to forgive me, to see that I’ve changed?”

Finn, never one to mince words, cuts straight to the heart of the matter. “Have you properly groveled yet? Because from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you’ve barely apologized, let alone made a real effort to atone for your past actions.”

His words are like a slap to the face, but I know he’s right. My eyes widen as the realization hits me. I’ve been so focused on the logistics of our arrangement, on playing the role of the perfect fake fiancé, that I’ve neglected the most crucial aspect of my relationship with Mariah: earning her forgiveness.

I run a hand down my face, rough stubble scratching against my palm. “Fuck, Finn. You’re right. I’ve been an idiot.”

Finn’s smile widens. “Well, admitting it is the first step.”

I shoot him a half-hearted glare, but I can’t deny the truth of his words. If I want any chance of making things right with Mariah, of turning this fake engagement into something real, I must do more than just play pretend.

I need to show her that I’m truly sorry for the way I treated her in the past, that I’m a different orc now.

The question is, how do I even begin to make amends for years of bullying and torment? The thought of facing Mariah, of laying my soul bare before her, makes my stomach twist with nerves. But I know I have to try. For her, for us, for the future I’m slowly starting to let myself imagine.

I push myself up from the bar, my mind already racing with ideas. “Thanks, Finn. I owe you one.”

Finn waves me off, that infuriating smile still in place. “Just don’t fuck it up, Thorak.”

I nod, my jaw set. I won’t fuck it up. Not this time. Mariah deserves better, and I’m going to prove to her that I can be the orc she needs, the orc she deserves. No matter what it takes.

A few hours later, I lock up the taproom, my mind still reeling. The short walk to my home seems longer than usual, each step weighted with the gravity of my decision.

As I approach my cozy, rustic orcish dwelling, a sense of familiarity washes over me. The sturdy stone walls and the intricately carved wooden door bear the marks of my clan’s craftsmanship. I trace my fingers over the iron knocker, shaped like a direwolf’s head—a symbol of strength and resilience among my people.

Inside, the space is warm and inviting, with firewood stacked and ready in the hearth and the rich scent of leather and yesterday’s woodsmoke filling the air. This is my sanctuary, a place where I can let my guard down and be myself.

A soft grunt draws my attention, and I look down to see Snuffles, my teacup boar, trotting towards me. His tiny hooves click against the stone floor, and his little pink snout twitches with excitement.

“Hey there, buddy,” I murmur, scooping him up into my arms. He nuzzles against my chest, his warm weight a comforting presence. “Hungry?”

I carry Snuffles into the kitchen, where I rummage through the pantry until I find his favorite treat—a jar of pickled mushrooms. The pungent aroma makes my nose wrinkle, but Snuffles squeals with delight as I place a few on a small plate for him.

“There you go, little guy. Enjoy.” I watch him munch happily for a moment, before setting him down and heading towards my bedroom.

“Sorry, Snuffles,” I call over my shoulder. “But you’re gonna have to sit this one out.”

I close the door behind me, a heat still burning through me that was ignited by Mariah hours ago and hasn’t left my veins since. As I settle onto the bed, my thoughts drift back to her, to the feel of her lips against mine, the way her body melted into my embrace.

Desire rushes through me, urgent and demanding. I pull down my trousers and close my eyes, letting the memory consume me. My fingers curl around the deep ridges of my already hardening cock.

I imagine Mariah here with me, her eyes filled with desire. In my mind, she forgives me, pulls me close, and whispers the words I’ve longed to hear. “I want you, Thorak. I need you.”

My grip tightens, my strokes becoming more forceful as I lose myself in the fantasy. I picture Mariah’s naked body beneath me, her fair skin flushed with arousal. Her small human hands would explore my chest, tracing the lines of my muscles before wrapping around my thick, pulsing shaft.

I imagine the way her eyes would widen as she takes in the sight of my rigid, thick green length for the first time. She’s probably never seen an orc cock before. Surprise would melt into curiosity and then desire.

“So big,” she’d whisper in awe, her delicate fingers stroking along the prominent ridges, unique to orcs and made for pleasure.

A low groan escapes my lips as I pump faster, chasing the building pressure at the base of my spine. In my mind’s eye, Mariah arches beneath me, her breathy moans filling the air as I thrust into her welcoming heat.

The fantasy reaches its peak, and I erupt with a guttural roar, spilling my seed onto my fist and stomach. I ride out the waves of pleasure, my chest heaving with exertion.

As I catch my breath, an overwhelming sense of purpose settles over me. I have to win Mariah over. No more games, no more hiding behind this fake engagement. It’s time to show her the depths of my feelings, the sincerity of my remorse.

Tomorrow, I’ll take the first steps towards earning Mariah’s trust and forgiveness.

10

MARIAH

Ipace the lobby of the Moonflower, my skirt swishing around my ankles with each step. I’m trying not to be anxious or impatient, but I can’t help it. So much rides on today.

Kingsley emerges from the hallway and I plaster on my most dazzling smile, hoping it masks the nerves fluttering in my stomach. Today, Thorak and I are giving Kingsley a tour of the brewery. It has to go well.

The sooner we can get him on board, the better. Then I can get my extermination bills paid and move on with my life before these mind-boggling sentiments toward Thorak get any more confusing.

“Good morning, Robert! I trust you slept well?” I greet him sunnily as we head out the door. “I can’t wait to show you more of our charming little town.”

The streets of Elderberry Falls bustle with morning activity as we stroll through the center of town. The aroma of freshly baked pumpkin muffins and cinnamon rolls wafts out to greet us as we pass the Hungry Minotaur tavern. A few doors down, the windows of the Spellbound Bookshop shimmer with an enchanted display of fluttering pages arranging themselves into fantastical scenes.

“There’s Mrs. Pennywhistle, heading to open the bookshop,” I point out the elderly elf who gives us a friendly wave. “Her family has owned it for generations. The shelves are rumored to be bigger on the inside. You could get lost for days in there!”

Robert nods, but I can’t quite read his expression behind his expensive sunglasses. Is that a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth or just polite interest? I press on, determined to showcase the unique charm and characters that make this town so special to me.

Suddenly, Robert turns to me, his gaze intense even behind his dark glasses. “Don’t you ever get tired of all this foolishness, Mariah? Why do you want to live here instead of in the human lands?”

His question catches me off guard, and I feel a familiar defensiveness prickling my skin. How can he not see how amazing this place is? How much it means to me? I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to snap back with a sarcastic retort.

Instead, I breathe slowly, composing myself. “Tired of it? Never. Elderberry Falls is unlike anywhere else in the world. The diversity, the way monsters, magical beings, and humans live and work alongside each other—it’s incredible.”

I gesture around us, to the vibrant storefronts and the eclectic mix of beings going about their day. “This town has become a part of who I am. The friendships I’ve formed here, the magical moments I’ve witnessed... There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Memories flood my mind, like the time Chef Glim surprised me with a magical birthday feast, complete with dishes that glowed and sparkled. Or when Ecco sang at the Moonflower’s grand reopening after I inherited it from my great-aunt, her siren song weaving a spell of joy over the entire crowd. Even the challenging times, like dealing with the pixie dust mite infestation, have only made me appreciate this community more.

Kingsley remains quiet, his expression inscrutable. I wish I could read his thoughts, understand what’s going on behind those designer shades. Does he think I’m just a naïve human girl, clinging to a fantasy world?

I gently turn the question back to him. “What about you, Robert? What drew you to invest in businesses owned by monsters and magical beings?”

He pauses for a moment, considering his words. “As a businessman, I see significant growth potential in this market. It’s an untapped opportunity, a chance to be at the forefront of something truly unique.”

But as he speaks, his gaze lingers on the town around us, taking in the whimsical storefronts and the laughter of a group of goblin children playing nearby. There’s a softness to his expression that I haven’t seen before, a hint of wonder that extends beyond mere financial pragmatism.

“Though I must admit,” he adds, his tone more contemplative, “there’s something about this place that’s starting to grow on me. The energy, the sense of community...it’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before.”

I smile, warmth blooming in my chest. There’s hope for Kingsley yet. If he can open his mind to the magic and wonder of Elderberry Falls, who knows what the future might hold?

As we approach the doors of Orc’s Anvil, I take a steadying breath, my nerves buzzing with anticipation. This is it—the moment of truth. Thorak’s tour might be enough to seal the deal and secure Kingsley’s investment.

And if it means spending more time in close proximity to the orc who once tormented me, well...I’ll just have to find a way to keep my traitorous mind in check.

Easier said than done, especially when the heat of our kiss at the monster market still lingers on my lips…and other places.

With a final glance at Kingsley, I push open the heavy oak doors. As we step inside, the rich aroma of hops and malt greets us, mingling with the faint scent of wood smoke from the massive stone fireplace.

There, standing before us, is Thorak, looking every inch the confident, capable business owner in a tailored suit that hugs his muscular frame in all the right places.

“Robert, Mariah, welcome to Orc’s Anvil,” Thorak greets us, his deep, resonant voice sending a traitorous shiver down my spine.

His eyes meet mine for a brief moment, and I swear I see a flicker of something there—amusement, perhaps, or maybe even a hint of the same attraction that I’m desperately trying to ignore.

Thorak leads us through the brewery, pointing out the gleaming fermentation tanks and rows of oak barrels. I trail behind, trying to pay attention to his words rather than how his broad shoulders fill out his suit jacket.

It’s a losing battle, though, especially when he starts talking about the intricacies of the brewing process, his love of his craft evident in every word.

He’s just so fucking…competent. Watching a smart man confidently in his element does something to my insides that should be illegal.

“We use only the finest ingredients,” Thorak explains to Kingsley, gesturing to a display of plump, fragrant hops. “And our water comes from an enchanted spring deep in the forest, imbuing each batch with a touch of magic.”

We move on to the tasting room, where gleaming pint glasses await. I find myself drawn into the conversation, offering my own insights from a human perspective.

“The way Thorak has incorporated magical elements into the brewing process is really innovative,” I tell Kingsley, genuinely meaning it. “It’s the kind of thing that could really set Orc’s Anvil apart in the market.”

Thorak flashes me a grin, his tusks glinting in the warm light. “Exactly. We’re not just another brewery—we’re creating something unique, something that celebrates the best of both the magical and human worlds.”

He launches into his vision for the future of Orc’s Anvil, his deep voice resonating with authority. It’s like watching a master craftsman at work, each word carefully chosen, each gesture perfectly calculated to showcase his expertise.

And I can’t ignore the heat that pools in my belly every time his eyes meet mine, the way my heart races when he leans in close to emphasize a point. It’s maddening, this attraction to the guy who once made my life hell.

I know I should be focused on the tour, on making sure Kingsley is sufficiently impressed, but all I can think about is the way Thorak’s lips might feel against mine again, the way his strong hands might touch me. What would it be like to have his thick body sliding against mine?

I swallow hard, trying to pull myself together.

As the tour comes to an end, I stand beside Thorak as Kingsley turns to us, his gaze inscrutable.

“You talk a good game, Thorak,” Kingsley says, holding out his hand to shake Thorak’s. “I’m impressed by what I saw here and your vision for the place.”

My breath hitches. Did we manage to convince him?

“But,” he continues, and my heart sinks. “The most important thing is going to be how consumers approach your goods. I’d like to come see this taproom in action soon and observe reactions in real time. Can that be arranged?”

Thorak nods, totally unfazed by Kingsley’s request. “Of course. We’re closed today but you should come by tomorrow night.”

“Will do. I suppose we should be heading back to the inn,” Kingsley says. He turns to me. “Mariah, you’re coming, I presume?”

I nod, ready to accompany him, but before I can take a step, Thorak’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close against his muscular frame. I gasp, my body immediately responding to his touch, despite my best efforts to maintain a professional demeanor.

“Actually,” Thorak says, his deep voice rumbling through me, “would you mind if Mariah stayed behind for a moment? There’s something I wanted to discuss with her about, uh, our upcoming wedding.”

I try not to snort, even as I glance down at the big engagement ring on my finger. It’s a good lie, I suppose.

But what does he want to talk about?

11

MARIAH

Kingsley heads out and I turn to face Thorak. Gone is his usual confident smirk, replaced now by a somber, almost vulnerable expression that catches me off guard. He takes a deep breath, his striking eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken.

“Mariah, I...” His deep voice is low and earnest, tinged with an unfamiliar hesitancy. “I want to apologize. Properly. For how I treated you growing up.”

I blink in surprise, my mind struggling to process his words. Is this really happening? An apology, after all these years?

He forges ahead, refusing to break eye contact. “I’m not going to make excuses for my behavior. Nothing can justify the pain I caused you.” Thorak swallows hard, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. “I was an asshole. A complete and utter asshole. I’m not that guy anymore, and for years, it’s eaten away at me, knowing the suffering I inflicted on you.”

Tears sting my eyes as I listen in stunned silence. I never expected this—never thought Thorak would dredge up our painful history, let alone acknowledge the hurt that still simmers beneath the surface. But the genuine remorse shining in his eyes, how his usual gruffness has given way to raw sincerity...it shows me just how much he’s grown.

How much he’s changed.

“Thank you,” I manage to whisper, my voice soft and unsteady. “For the apology. I...I appreciate it.”

Thorak nods, a flicker of relief crossing his face. I try to sort through my jumble of emotions—the lingering resentment, the budding warmth, the undeniable attraction that seems to grow stronger with each passing moment.

I wanted to keep things simple between us, a straightforward business arrangement with no messy feelings involved.

But now? With the memory of our searing kiss still fresh in my mind, the way my body responded so eagerly to his touch, and this heartfelt apology adding a new layer of complexity... maintaining that clear-cut separation is getting harder by the second.

My head spins with doubts and questions as the careful walls around my heart begin to crack and crumble. I’m losing my grip on the defenses I’ve so meticulously built.

Just as I’m about to speak again, Thorak slides a small box across the table towards me. I look at him in confusion, but he just nods encouragingly, urging me to open it.

With trembling fingers, I lift the lid and gasp at what I see inside.

Nestled on a bed of black velvet is a delicate silver chain with a familiar, intricately carved pendant. The pendant is a beautiful, iridescent stone that seems to glow with an inner light, catching the rays of the sun streaming through the window and scattering them in a dazzling display of color. It’s breathtaking, and for a moment, I’m speechless.

I thought this was lost forever.

As I stare at the necklace, my mind is flooded with memories.

I remember the day my grandmother gave it to me, the words she said as she fastened it around my neck. “This has been in our family for generations,” she’d told me, her voice soft and full of emotion. “I want you to have it, Mariah. To remember that no matter what, you always have a piece of us with you.”

My fingers tremble as I lift the necklace from the box, the cool metal both foreign and achingly familiar against my skin.

The happy memory is quickly overshadowed by a darker one, a moment from high school that I’ve tried so hard to forget.

I was walking down the hallway, the necklace glinting at my throat, when suddenly Thorak’s friend Zara appeared in front of me, a cruel sneer twisting her beautiful face.

“Well, well, well,” she drawled, her violet eyes glinting with malice. “What do we have here?”

Before I could react, she reached out and grabbed the necklace, yanking it roughly from my neck. I cried out in pain and shock, my hand flying to my throat as I tried to stop her. But she was too fast, dangling the necklace in front of my face with a vicious smirk.

“This is what you call jewelry?” she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “It’s nothing but a cheap, tacky piece of human trash.”

I felt hot tears stinging my eyes as I watched helplessly, unable to stop her as she threw the necklace to the floor and ground it under her boot. The crunch of metal and stone was like a physical blow, and I felt like a piece of myself had been destroyed along with the necklace.

“Oops,” Zara said with mock innocence, brushing her hands together as if to wipe away the evidence of what she’d done. “How clumsy of me.”

She turned and walked away, leaving me standing there crying in the hallway. Through my tears, I saw Thorak standing nearby, watching the whole thing unfold.

My stomach churned with the sickening certainty that he orchestrated this, that he was reveling in my pain and humiliation.

I turned and ran, my chest heaving with sobs as I fled down the hallway. The fluorescent lights blurred and spun around me, and I could barely see where I was going. My throat burned with shame and anguish, the broken pieces of my necklace—and my heart—left shattered on the linoleum behind me.

“That moment with Zara was a turning point for me,” Thorak says now, his deep voice wavering with emotion. “I’ve never gotten that look on your face out of my mind. I realized then that things had gone too far. The cruelty, the bullying—it needed to stop.”

All I can do is listen, my mind reeling as I try to process his words. Thorak’s gaze is heavy with regret as he speaks, haunted by the weight of his past actions.

“You kept the pieces?” I ask. “All these years?”

“I did,” he confesses, his voice cracking. “After you ran away, I gathered them up, every last shard. And then I spent countless hours mending the chain and pendant.”

He traces a large finger over the intricate carvings on the stone, his gaze distant as if lost in memory. “I used every bit of skill I had, all the orcish craftsmanship I could muster, to restore it to its former beauty.”

In that moment, I truly see the man he has become—a man striving to fix what he had broken, in more ways than one.

“I did it for you, Mariah,” he says softly, earnestly. “To try to make things right, even if I didn’t know how to tell you back then. Fixing this necklace, it was my way of promising myself that one day, I would find a way to mend the hurt I caused you, too.”

Each word hits me like a revelation. Thorak kept my necklace. He painstakingly pieced it back together, pouring his heart into restoring this precious item.

And he did it all for me.

He gently takes the necklace from my hands and moves around behind me, threading it around my neck and closing the clasp.

I struggle to find my voice, my throat tight with a swell of emotions I can’t even begin to untangle. Everything I thought I knew about Thorak, every assumption and resentment, is unraveling in the face of this heartfelt confession.

With a shaking hand, I reach out and touch the pendant where it rests against my skin. The stone is warm, pulsing with a gentle, soothing energy that seems to emanate from its very core. It’s like a missing part of my soul has been returned to me, the jagged edges of my old wounds finally starting to heal.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.

Thorak reaches out and takes my hand in his, his palm rough and warm against my skin. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs. “Just know that I’m sorry, more than I can ever express. And I will do anything in my power to prove it to you. I hope we can have a fresh start.”

It’s a strange kind of magic, this: the power of sincere words spoken by someone you never thought capable of them.

I nod, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat. “Okay, Thorak. Fresh start,” I murmur, feeling the weight of our shared history shift into something that’s almost like...anticipation.

The next morning, I meet up with Ecco at our favorite boutique in town. She needs a new dress for her next performance at the inn tomorrow, and I need something to wear for Kingsley’s visit to the taproom tonight.

Ecco pulls a sleek, forest green dress from the rack and holds it up to me, humming with approval. “This would look stunning with your coloring,” she gushes.

An unwanted thought races through me: what would Thorak think of me in that? My hand drifts unconsciously to the necklace at my throat, my fingers tracing the delicate carvings that he spent so many hours restoring.

Ecco’s gaze follows my movements, and suddenly, her eyes widen with recognition. “Wait a minute,” she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Is that...?”

I nod, my throat tightening with emotion as I remember how Thorak’s hands trembled as he fastened the chain around my neck, his eyes shining as he spoke of his efforts to mend what he had broken.

“He kept it all these years,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “After Zara destroyed it, he gathered up all the pieces and spent hours putting it back together.”

Ecco’s eyes mist over as she listens, her hands clasped to her chest. “Oh, Mariah,” she sighs. “I was skeptical of his intentions by agreeing to this deal but I think I was wrong. Don’t you see? He’s been in love with you this whole time.”

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens at her words. “It’s not like that,” I insist. “He’s just guilty for how he treated me in the past. This is his way of making amends.”

But even as I say it, doubt creeps in at the edges of my certainty. The way Thorak looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching, the gentle brushes of his hand against mine that linger just a moment too long...could there be more to his feelings than just guilt and regret?

Ecco seems to sense my hesitation. She takes my hands in hers, looking at me with a knowing intensity.

“Mariah,” she says softly. “I’ve known you for years, and I’ve never seen you light up the way you do when you’re talking about him. There could be something special there, something real and powerful. Don’t let your fear of the past keep you from embracing the future.”

I swallow hard, trying not to let her words affect me. Ecco’s a hopeless romantic who is forever unlucky in love. She picks the wrong men and leaps after any inclination of her heart. She’s not someone I should be taking dating advice from.

But…what if she’s right?

I try to push the thought away, looking back to the dress in front of me.

“You should try it on,” Ecco urges, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I bet Thorak would love to see you in that dress.”

Gods, can she read my mind?

I shoot her a look, trying to summon up my usual sarcasm, but the words die on my lips. Because deep down, I know she’s right. I want Thorak to see me in this dress. I want to take his breath away, to make his pulse race the way mine does every time he’s near.

Before I can second-guess myself, I snatch the dress from the rack and head for the fitting room. As I slide the silk over my skin, I imagine Thorak’s reaction. The way his eyes would darken with desire, the way his hands would skim over my curves, pulling me close against his broad, muscular chest...

I emerge from the fitting room in a daze, my cheeks flushed and my pulse pounding. Ecco takes one look at me and grins, her expression equal parts knowing and delighted.

“Oh, honey,” she breathes. “You look absolutely stunning. Thorak won’t know what hit him.”

I glance at my reflection in the nearby mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at me. The dress clings to my body like a second skin.

But it’s the look in my own eyes that takes my breath away. It’s raw, unbridled desire.

As I turn back to Ecco, my heart racing and my mind spinning, I know that everything is about to change. For better or for worse, Thorak has gotten under my skin in a way I never could have predicted.

And now, there’s no turning back.

12

THORAK

My taproom buzzes with electricity as I survey the staff preparing for a big night. We usually do decent business on Wednesday nights, but I’m hoping that tonight’s crowd mimics a weekend. We need that kind of energy if I’m going to impress Robert.

Beside me, Gruna zips between the tables, issuing rapid-fire instructions. “Double check those glasses, Blonk! And Asha, we need more ale on tap, stat!” She wants this deal to go through as badly as I do.

Gruna could’ve easily taken over our parents’ business instead of me when I ventured out on my own. They would’ve handed it to her. But instead, she showed up at Orc Anvil’s door one day, a bag of specialty hops slung over her shoulders.

“Where you go, I go, brother,” she told me, assertively pushing past me into the brewery. That was the end of the discussion for her. We’ve always been the closest of the siblings. We’re only a year apart in age and our parents practically treated us like twins. Now, the business is as much her baby as it is mine.

And I feel awful about the anxiety I know I’m causing her.

As the teams scramble to complete final preparations, Gruna tugs me aside, brow furrowed with concern.

“Are you sure about this, brother?” Her voice is low and urgent. “This ruse you and Mariah are attempting with the distributor...it’s really risky.”

My chest tightens and I run a hand through my short hair. Gruna’s right, of course—she usually is. But what choice do I have?

Especially now that things have gotten this far. We’re so close to having the deal done, I think. And, honestly, I like having an excuse to be near Mariah for as long as possible…

“I know, Gruna,” I rumble, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the heat pulsing through my veins at just the thought of Mariah. “But Robert’s nearly there. We can’t back out now.”

Gruna sighs. “Okay. I’ll trust that you know what you’re doing. How else can I help tonight, now that we’re almost ready?”

I clasp Gruna’s shoulder. “I need you to keep Ma and Da away tonight, Gruna. Can you do that for me? Please?” Even though they’re disappointed that I’m not working for them, my parents like to pop by the taproom every so often. We’ve never discussed it, but I think it’s their roundabout way of being supportive without actually saying that they support my decision.

Gruna hesitates, conflicting loyalties warring in her expression. Even though she works with me, she’s closer to our parents than I am. And she knows Ma and Da would be upset by the Mariah relationship.

A familiar knot of frustration twists in my gut. For all my parents’ many strengths, their distrust of humans is deep and unshakeable. It’s why my father has never once considered expanding his own brewing conglomerate into the human lands, despite the potential.

After a long beat, Gruna nods, her features softening with a sigh. “I’ll do my best, Thorak. But please, be careful. I don’t want to lose this deal. And…I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I will.” The words rasp in my throat. “I promise.”

Gruna darts off to head out to our parents’ place, and the evening quickly unfolds in a blur of activity. The taproom fills up with a boisterous mix of orcs, elves, dwarves, witches, fae folk and more, all eager to sample my latest brews.

I work the bar with quick, efficient movements, pouring pints and trading friendly barbs with the regulars.

“Quite a crowd tonight, eh?” Finnian sidles up to me as I finish pulling a pint of my newest IPA. He flashes his trademark grin at a cluster of giggling pixies, their iridescent wings casting shimmering reflections in their glasses. “I spread the word far and wide—figured we should show this Robert fellow just how beloved Orc’s Anvil is among the locals.”

Warmth floods my chest, and I clap Finn on the shoulder. “I owe you one, man. Seriously. Thank you.”

“Psh, think nothing of it.” He winks at one of the pixies and she practically swoons. “What are friends for, if not to engage in a bit of light subterfuge now and again?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. As I turn to greet the next customer, my gaze can’t help but stray to the front entrance every few moments, my heartrate kicking up a notch.

Waiting. Anticipating.

Aching for the moment a certain alluring human innkeeper walks through that door.

Finn’s words replay in my mind. Light subterfuge, that’s all this is. But when Mariah is near—her presence like a live current arcing between us, every accidental brush of our hands sending heat licking through my veins—it seems like so much more.

It feels real. Powerful. Inevitable.

The door swings open and Mariah glides in, a vision in emerald green, with Robert at her side.

Holy hell, she’s a knockout. I’ve never seen her wearing something so obviously sexy. The dress clings to every dip and curve of her body like it was painted on. The deep V neckline plunges dangerously low, revealing the swell of her perfect breasts.

I swallow hard, my pants suddenly way too tight.

Her chestnut hair tumbles past her shoulders in glossy waves I’m dying to run my fingers through. She’s done something different with her makeup tonight—her cat-like eyes are smoky and seductive, her lips a glistening, kissable pink.

What I wouldn’t give to grab her, crush my mouth to hers, trail my tongue along that graceful neck, slip my hands under that sinful dress and...

I wrench my gaze away, clenching my fists. Gods. I’ve got it so bad.

“Hey, babe,” Mariah says cheerily as she and Robert approach the bar. She leans over the bar and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Lust ignites in my gut. It takes all my willpower to not grab her by the waist, pull her over the wood countertop, and show her exactly what she does to me.

I swallow hard. It’s not great to be hiding a boner behind the bar like a horny teenager, especially with my potential distributor a foot away.

“Thorak,” Robert says, shaking my hand.

Think about Robert, think about Robert, I tell myself. Robert doing belly flops into the fountain in town square. Robert going to a magical salon and having his hair turned a rainbow color.

I loosen a breath. That helps.

“I must say, Thorak, you’ve got quite the crowd here tonight,” Robert continues. “And the energy is fantastic.”

Pride swells in my chest as I follow his gaze. He’s right—the place is absolutely buzzing. Laughter and animated chatter fill the air, punctuated by the clink of glasses and appreciative murmurs as folks sample my latest creations.

“Thanks, Robert. We’ve worked hard to make Orc’s Anvil a welcoming spot for everyone in Elderberry Falls. Guess it’s paying off.” I flash him a grin, hoping it comes across as confident and not betraying the nerves jangling beneath my skin.

Mariah sits down at a seat at the bar, pulling the chair out next to her for Robert. The light, floral scent of her perfume wafts over me, making my head spin yet again.

“Pour us some samples, love?” she says, her tone light and playful.

Fuck, back to being stiffer than actual wood.

As the night wears on, Mariah stays close, her gentle touches and adoring glances never straying far from Robert’s view. She laughs at all my jokes, even the ones that earn me groans from Finn. Her hand keeps finding its way to my arm, my shoulder, the small of my back.

Each casual caress sets my skin on fire.

I know we’re just playing a part, but damn if Mariah isn’t a fantastic actress. The way she gazes up at me through lowered lashes. The husky timbre of her voice when she leans in close to whisper in my ear. The enticing sway of her hips, barely concealed by that unholy dress.

If we were really together, I’d shut the bar down for the night and fuck her on every surface, giving her orgasm after orgasm until she couldn’t see straight.

I’m so lost in the fantasy that I don’t even notice the door swinging open.

Not until I hear my mother’s tentative voice saying, “Thorak?”

My head jerks up and my heart free-falls straight to the floor.

Standing in the entrance, wearing near-identical expressions of stony disapproval, are my parents.

13

THORAK

My stomach drops as my parents weave through the crowd, their faces stormy. Beside me, Mariah tenses.

“Thorak, what’s going on?” she whispers, her hand finding mine and gripping it tightly. Her touch sends a jolt of heat through me despite the dread churning in my gut.

Before I can respond, Gruna appears at my elbow, her eyes wide with panic. “I tried to stop them, but they heard about the event tonight and insisted on coming to show their support.”

I swallow hard, my mouth going dry. This is the absolute worst timing. I’m not going to be able to hide my “relationship” with Mariah. And the thought of me being engaged to a human? It’s sure to send them into a rage.

I square my shoulders as they approach, Ma’s eyes narrowed and Da’s jaw clenched beneath his beard. I paste on a welcoming smile.

“Ma, Da. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“We wanted to surprise you,” Ma says tightly, her gaze flickering to Mariah. “But it seems you’re the one with the surprises, Thorak. Who’s this?”

Her tone is sharp, accusatory. Mariah stiffens beside me but she stands her ground, meeting my mother’s glare head-on. Her fiery defiance is so damn sexy. It takes all of my self-control not to grab her and kiss her senseless, audience be damned.

Robert looks over curiously and my pulse quickens. I have to play this right or the whole charade will fall apart. I slide my arm around Mariah’s waist, pulling her close.

“This is Mariah,” I say clearly, making sure my voice carries. “My fiancée.”

The shock that ripples across my parents’ faces would be comical if my heart wasn’t pounding so hard. Mariah breathes rapidly against my side, her body taut with tension.

Da’s eyes flash dangerously as a deafening silence descends over the taproom. “What do you mean, fiancée?” he growls. “You’re engaged? To a human?”

I meet his furious gaze unflinchingly. I’ve never defied my parents so openly before.

“I am,” I tell him coolly.

Gods, this is a nightmare situation. I feel horrible for lying to them, even as I want to get this out into the open. I know what their views are, and I don’t agree with them. It’s just unfortunate that this is playing out so publicly.

And that this inevitable rift with my parents is the price for securing my distribution deal.

Ma gapes at me, her eyes wide. “But what about Ygra? How could you do this to her, Thorak?” Her voice trembles with barely contained emotion.

I suppress a sigh of frustration.

“Ma, we’ve discussed this so many times. Ygra and I are long over,” I say firmly, willing her to understand. “I’ve moved on. I’m happy with Mariah now.”

Mariah’s fingers lace with mine and she squeezes my hand, a silent show of support even as tension thrums through her. I glance down at her and my breath catches. She’s putting on a brave face for me, for this ruse, but I can see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. It makes me want to gather her in my arms and never let go.

Da takes a menacing step forward, his bulky frame cutting an intimidating figure. “She’s a human, Thorak! What can she possibly know of our ways? Of your responsibilities to our clan?”

We don’t practice the orcish ways of old anymore. What he really means is my responsibility to have many children and keep the Ironfist line going strong.

Mariah flinches almost imperceptibly and a flare of anger pulses through me. I know my parents’ prejudices run deep but I won’t let them disrespect the woman I love.

Love. The realization hits me like a war hammer to the gut. I’ve fallen irrevocably in love with Mariah Parker. And now I’m caught between my duties as a son and my desires as a man.

I chance a look at Robert, who is watching the unfolding drama with a speculative gleam in his eye. I can’t let my parents’ disapproval jeopardize this deal. But more than that, I can’t bear to see Mariah hurt by their callous judgments.

I force myself to breathe, to unclench my jaw. Losing control now would be disastrous.

“Da, you need to back off,” I grit out, barely recognizing my own voice. It’s taken on a rough, guttural edge I’ve never heard before. “I won’t let you insult Mariah like this.”

Even if our relationship is not real, I mean that with every fiber of my being.

“Insult her?” Ma sputters incredulously. “We’re trying to save you from making the biggest mistake of your life! How can you turn your back on your own kind?”

Every word is like a serrated blade sawing at my restraint. I want to rage at them, but I know I can’t fight hatred with hatred.

Across the room, I catch Gruna’s anguished gaze, apology written in every line of her face. I give an almost imperceptible shake of my head. This isn’t her burden to bear.

Shifting to block Mariah from my parents’ glares, I raise my chin and square my shoulders. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about us,” I say, fighting to keep my tone level. “I knew you’d let your backwards prejudice blind you.”

“Thorak, be reasonable—” Ma starts, but I cut her off with a slashing gesture.

“No, you listen to me for once!” The words explode out of me, loud enough to send ripples of shocked silence through the crowd. “Mariah isn’t just some passing fling. She’s the love of my life, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone, even my own blood, disrespect her.”

As the words come out of my mouth, all I feel is a sense of...rightness. Completion.

I’m saying these words for Robert’s ears. But the truth of them settles into my bones.

Mariah sucks in a sharp breath behind me, her grip on my hand tightening to the point of pain. I don’t dare look back at her, too terrified of what I’ll see in her eyes.

“I’m going to marry this woman,” I continue, holding my parents’ stares unflinchingly. “You can either accept that and be a part of our lives, or not. The choice is yours.”

For a moment, the silence stretches on, thick and suffocating. My parents stare at me, their expressions inscrutable. There’s the weight of dozens of eyes on me, waiting to see how this will play out.

Then, with a disgusted shake of his head, my father turns on his heel. “Let’s go, Mor’ghan,” he growls.

My mother hesitates, her gaze darting between me and Mariah. Something like regret flickers in her eyes. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but no words come out.

With a resigned sigh, she follows my father out of the taproom, the door slamming shut behind them with a resounding finality.

I let out a breath, my shoulders slumping as the tension drains out of me. Around us, the crowd erupts into a flurry of whispers and murmurs.

“Did you see that?”

“I can’t believe he stood up to Krag like that...”

“Never thought I’d see the day an orc would choose a human over his own clan.”

Their words wash over me, meaningless noise. All I can focus on is the warmth of Mariah’s hand in mine, the steady presence of her at my back. I know I’ve just made a scene, stirred up enough gossip to keep the town buzzing for weeks.

But I can’t bring myself to care. Not when every nerve in my body is singing with the rightness of my declaration.

I turn to face Mariah, my heart in my throat. Her eyes are wide, luminous with unshed tears. But there’s something else there too, something that makes my pulse stutter and race.

“Thorak,” she whispers, her voice rough with emotion. “Did you...did you mean what you said?”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to brush away the single tear that escapes down her cheek. “Every word.”

And I do. This infuriating, beautiful, stubborn human woman has worked her way under my skin, into my very soul.

I’m in love with her, plain and simple.

Mariah lets out a shuddering breath, a wobbly smile breaking over her face. She opens her mouth to reply⁠—

And that’s when I notice Robert, standing a few feet away, eyeing us with a speculative frown.

I completely forgot he was here. Watching.

My stomach sinks as I think about how close I came to blowing our carefully constructed ruse. I squeeze Mariah’s hand in warning, nodding subtly in Robert’s direction.

Her eyes widen in understanding. Message received.

“Sorry for the commotion, folks!” I call out to the crowd, forcing a hearty chuckle. “Next round is on me!”

A ragged cheer goes up, the tension dissolving into raucous laughter and chatter. I breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived.

Robert is already striding towards us, his expression unreadable. “I think we need to have a talk,” he says, voice low and serious. “In private.”

14

MARIAH

My hands tremble at my side as I stand amidst the taproom’s din. The confrontation with Krag and Mor’ghan still echoes in my mind—their biting words, the sheer disdain in their eyes as they looked at me.

At the human who, as far as they knew, dared to love their son.

Bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down. The whole interaction ripped some old wounds open, spilling memories of cruel taunts and jeering laughter.

Coming from him.

I sneak a glance at Thorak, tall and imposing beside me. The orc who tormented me mercilessly as a teen, who shoved me and mocked me. The orc who just defended me so fiercely, eyes blazing as he put his own parents in their place.

I feel split in two, past and present colliding in a way I can’t begin to process. But I force the turmoil down. I can’t think about that now.

Everything with Kingsley seems like it’s about to fall apart. And I can’t let that happen. Regardless of my complicated emotions toward Thorak, I need him to come through with the rest of my payment so I can save the inn.

Which means it’s time to channel my best loving fiancée act.

Thorak leads Kingsley and I to a quiet corner booth of the taproom, away from the raucous crowd. Curious gazes follow us, whispers rising in our wake.

We slide into the polished seats, the air heavy with tension. Kingsley leans forward, elbows on the table as he pins us with a hard stare.

“What was that?” he demands. “Your parents seriously don’t know you’re engaged?”

I exchange a glance with Thorak. He gives an almost imperceptible nod, letting me take the lead.

I clear my throat and turn to Kingsley with an easy smile.

“It’s all happened so fast,” I explain, lacing my fingers with Thorak’s thick ones. His green skin is warm against mine. “We’ve only been together for six weeks, but we both just knew it was right.”

I gaze up at Thorak with an attempt at adoration. He returns the look with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

“We wanted to tell Thorak’s parents in person,” I tell Kingsley. “But we knew they might have some...prejudices. Against humans. We’ve been trying to figure out the best way to break the news.”

Kingsley leans back, eyebrows raised. “Interesting strategy, doing it here. Tonight.” His tone drips with sarcasm.

I force a tinkling laugh. “Definitely not the plan! We’re so sorry you had to witness that awkwardness.”

Under the table, I nudge Thorak’s knee with mine, passing the baton to him. He nudges back, and a shiver runs through me at the contact.

“I lost my temper,” Thorak rumbles, holding Kingsley’s gaze. “But I won’t let anyone, not even my own family, disrespect the woman I love. Mariah means everything to me.”

Kingsley studies us for a long moment, eyes flicking between our faces.

Finally, he leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just can’t believe anyone could be prejudiced against humans,” he says, sounding almost naïve in his surprise. He turns to me, his expression softening slightly. “Have you ever had something like that happen before?”

Genuine curiosity colors his voice, but Thorak’s fingers tighten against mine. We both know that prejudice is a two-way street, and that Kingsley’s ignorance is a luxury afforded to him by his human privilege.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts, considering how much to reveal.

With a soft sigh, I begin to speak, my voice gentle but firm. “Growing up as a human in a magical town wasn’t always easy, Robert. I stood out here. There are other humans in Elderberry Falls, of course, but not a ton. I was the only one in my grade growing up and the bullying I endured was relentless.”

Thorak tenses beside me, a flicker of remorse crossing his face. A silent apology for his part in my pain. I have a flash empathy for him, understanding now the prejudices he must have been carrying from his parents.

“But kids are stupid and cruel everywhere,” I continue. “It’s been different for me as an adult. This town is largely very welcoming. And interspecies relationships like Thorak’s and mine are common.”

Thorak clears his throat. “I don’t want to create excuses for my parents, because there is no excuse. But to put some context to it, they carry a lot of pain. My grandparents on both sides were driven out of the human lands when they were just children during the Great Exile.”

Kingsley winces. The Great Exile was a dark part of history, a period of time when monsters and other magical beings were forcefully and violently relocated. Many folks in Elderberry Falls have stories like this.

I didn’t know Thorak’s personal history and my heart aches for his family.

“They watched as their homes were burned to the ground, their belongings stolen or destroyed,” Thorak continues. “They fled for their lives, with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and sought refuge here in Elderberry Falls. Along with other displaced magical beings, my grandparents’ families built this town from scratch. A safe haven where they could rebuild their lives and preserve their culture.”

I realize that Krag and Mor’ghan’s hostility towards me is rooted in this deep, generational wound. They’ve spent their entire lives fighting to protect what their parents and grandparents had sacrificed so much to build.

The thought of their only son marrying a human must seem like a betrayal of everything they stand for.

Almost instinctively, I lean my head onto Thorak’s shoulder, wanting to offer him any small comfort. Just like this history doesn’t excuse Krag and Mor’ghan’s behavior, it does not excuse the way Thorak treated me. But the context adds a different color to our past.

“When you love someone,” I say softly, looking up toward Thorak, “that love has the power to overcome any history, to heal any wound.”

Even as I speak the words, there's a flicker of doubt inside me. I can no longer deny my growing feelings for this man. But can they really be enough to bridge the gap between our two worlds?

Thorak looks down at me with intensity, his eyes blazing with a heat that works to undo me, and I push the thought aside.

He nods in agreement, his grip tightening on my hand as he turns back to Robert. “That’s why this brewery is so important to me,” he says, his voice low and fervent. “It’s not just about the beer, or the money. It’s about building something that brings our two communities together. If I can get distribution into the human lands, I can extend a figurative olive branch into that world. Use it as a way to help craft a better future, for all of us.”

Admiration swells inside of me. I’d started to accept that Thorak is not the asshole orc I knew years ago, but these words from him pull down the last of the walls that I’d built between us.

He has a beautiful, compelling vision for his business. And gods, listening to him speak, I desperately want to be a part of the future he imagines.

The thought makes me dizzy and confused.

Kingsley sits back in his chair, his expression thoughtful as he takes in everything we’ve said. He nods slowly, his gaze distant. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” he says finally, his voice measured and careful. “I’ll be in touch.”

With that, he stands and makes his way out of the taproom, leaving Thorak and me alone amidst the dwindling crowd.

As the door swings shut behind Robert, Thorak loosens a deep sigh.

“Well, we did what we could to salvage that,” he says. “Thank you.”

Right, the deal. That’s what this is about. Not about my extremely inconvenient, growing, and all-too-real feelings for this surprisingly noble orc.

I lick my lips and look away from him. “Just holding up my end of the bargain,” I say, my voice coming out more clipped than I intend. “You still owe me the rest of the payment for the extermination. It’s not my fault if things with Robert don’t work out.”

Thorak huffs out a dark laugh at my side. “Of course, Mariah.”

We leave the booth but around us, the party starts to wind down. Patrons trickle out in twos and threes, their laughter and chatter fading into the night. Soon, it’s just Thorak and me left in the cavernous space, the clinking of glasses and the hum of the brewing equipment the only sounds.

I could probably leave too, but there’s something burbling in the back of my mind that I need to deal with. I stand and start gathering empty steins from the tables, needing something to occupy my restless hands.

Thorak joins me silently, and we work in tandem, a strange sense of domesticity settling over us.

As I reach for a toppled stein, my hand brushes against his and a jolt of electricity zings through me. I jerk back as if burned.

When I glance up at Thorak, he’s studying me.

The words I’ve been carrying tumble out. “Why me, Thorak?” I ask softly. “What did I do back then that made me a target? Was it really just because I’m human? Or was there something else?”

My voice cracks on the last word and I look away, exposed and vulnerable. In the heavy silence that follows, the weight of Thorak’s gaze lingers on me, the air between us thick.

Slowly, I force myself to meet his eyes, my heart in my throat as I wait for him to answer the question I’ve always been too afraid to ask.

15

MARIAH

Thorak is silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he studies my face. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his voice low and rough as he confesses, “I had a crush on you, Mariah.”

Heat floods through me at his words, desire pooling in my belly even as my mind races to make sense of this revelation.

A laugh escapes me, soft and disbelieving. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

But there’s no real bite to my words. Instead, a strange tenderness wells up inside me, softening my hard edges. Thorak nods ruefully, his tusks glinting in the low light of the taproom.

“I know. I was a fucking idiot.” He runs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping. “Do you remember that vampire in our grade, Lucius? He wanted to use you for your blood. I overheard the disgusting way he talked about you...”

Thorak’s voice trails off, his jaw clenching. “I thought if I claimed you as mine, if I bullied you and made everyone afraid to come near you, then Lucius would never be able to hurt you. It was easier that way, easier than admitting how I really felt.”

“You could have just told me,” I whisper, my voice thin and reedy to my own ears. “About Lucius or…about how you felt.”

Thorak reaches out tentatively, his fingertips grazing my cheek. I shiver at the contact, my skin tingling.

“I know that now,” he murmurs. “But back then…I was drowning under the weight of everyone’s expectations. You were the only human in our grade, but I was the only orc. Everyone saw me as a brute, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than what they wanted.”

His words hit me like a blow to the stomach. Because I understand that pressure all too well—the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a role you never asked for. I think of all the times I’ve been underestimated, dismissed, or objectified.

And in that moment, I see Thorak—really see him—for perhaps the first time. Not as the bully from my past, but as a man struggling under the same burden I’ve carried all my life.

Thorak’s gaze burns into me, heavy with remorse and longing. His calloused fingers brush against my cheek again, and my whole body alights in response.

“I know I’ve already apologized,” he says softly, his voice reaching a deeper, dangerous octave that makes my toes curl. “But I will never stop begging for your forgiveness, Mariah. I’ll grovel at your feet for the rest of our lives if that’s what it takes to show you how sorry I am.”

My breath catches at his words, at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. This powerful, imposing orc, ready to humble himself before me...

It stirs something primal deep inside, an arousal that takes me by surprise with its intensity.

“Thorak,” I whisper, my voice trembling. He’s so close now, his hulking frame radiating heat.

Almost of their own accord, my hands come up to rest on his broad chest. His heartbeat thunders beneath my palm, betraying the calm facade he’s trying so hard to maintain.

Slowly, deliberately, I trail my fingers upward, skimming along the curve of his neck. Thorak’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into my touch with a shuddering sigh.

The simple intimacy of the gesture is what finally undoes me.

I surge forward, my mouth crashing against his in a heated kiss. Thorak responds instantly, his strong arms banding around my waist to haul me flush against him. He kisses me like a man starved, desperate and consuming.

It’s intoxicating, the way he surrounds me—his taste, his earthen scent, the solid heat of his body pressed so tightly to mine.

It feels like coming home.

Thorak runs his large hands down my sides, and I try not to moan at the simple gesture. Then he picks me up, gently but with undeniable raw strength, and carries me over to the bar, setting me down on the countertop.

Thorak settles between my thighs, devouring my mouth with a hunger that leaves me breathless. His hands are everywhere—roaming across my waist, skimming up my ribs, cupping my breasts through my dress.

Each touch is electric, sending jolts of need straight to my core. I arch into him, desperate for more contact, more friction.

Thorak runs a hand up my leg, pulling back from our kiss. His gaze is dark, determined. “Mariah,” he rasps. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

I nod, desperate with need for him. Thorak slides my green dress up to my waist and then kneels down on the ground. He’s so large that at a kneel, his face is perfectly aligned with my inner thighs.

With exquisite slowness, Thorak trails reverent kisses along my thighs, his tusks grazing my sensitive skin. Each brush of his lips sends sparks of desire racing through my veins. I squirm on the countertop and whimper, my hands fisting in his thick hair.

Thorak hooks his fingers into the waistband of my simple cotton panties, and looks up at me through hooded eyes, silently seeking permission again. I nod fervently, biting my lip in anticipation.

With a low growl, he rips my panties clean off, the delicate fabric shredding easily under his brute strength. The display of raw power combined with the sudden exposure makes me gasp, my thighs trembling.

“I’ll never stop apologizing to you,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my sensitive flesh.

And then his mouth is on me. I gasp at the sensation of his tusks holding my thighs open for him—the slight bite of pain mixed with intense, bone-melting pleasure as his tongue delves between my folds.

I cry out, my head lolling back. Thorak licks and sucks at my most sensitive parts with single-minded focus, like a man on a mission. His tusks press again into my inner thighs, keeping me spread wide for his ministrations.

“Oh gods, Thorak,” I whimper, my hips rocking against his face.

The sight of him, this huge, powerful orc, on his knees worshiping me with his mouth as he grovels for forgiveness…it’s almost too much to handle. Heat coils tighter and tighter in my core.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Thorak groans against me, the vibrations sending sparks shooting up my spine. His tongue swirls around my clit before he sucks it into his mouth and I nearly come undone right then.

“Yes, yes, right there,” I pant, my fingers tightening in his hair, holding him in place. Thorak redoubles his efforts, licking and suckling with an intensity that has my thighs quaking around his head.

I’m climbing higher, my blood singing with pleasure. The coil inside me winds tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.

I shatter with a hoarse cry, my hips arching off the bar top as the climax crashes over me in wave after wave of ecstasy.

Thorak laps at me through the aftershocks, his deep, satisfied rumble vibrating against my sensitive flesh. Finally, he pulls back and gazes up at me. His green skin glistens with my arousal, tusks flashing as he licks his lips.

“You taste divine,” he growls. “I could feast on you for hours.”

I shiver at his words, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my release. Thorak rises to his feet and captures my mouth in a searing kiss, letting me taste myself on his lips. The eroticism of it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through my veins.

Gods, I cannot believe the way that I’m losing control with him. And how much I desperately, desperately want it.

Just then the door to the taproom bangs open, the sound crashing over me like a glass of cold water. It pulls me out of my dazed reverie.

“Thorak, I can’t apologize enough about Ma and Da,” a voice loudly declares into the space. It’s Thorak’s sister, Gruna.

I gasp, pushing Thorak away and quickly sliding off the counter and pulling my dress back down around my thighs as Gruna appears around the corner.

What the fuck am I doing?!

Gruna pulls up short as she takes in the scene before her—me hastily adjusting my dress, Thorak’s face glistening, the charged energy still crackling between us. Her eyes widen.

“Oh,” she says, clearly shocked. “I’m sorry, I thought it would just be Thorak here. I’ll, uh, I’ll give you some space⁠—”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, cutting her off. My cheeks flush hot as I avoid Gruna’s knowing gaze, embarrassment coursing through me. “I was just leaving.”

I look behind me at Thorak, quickly. There are unspoken questions all over his face, ones that I don’t have the answers to. Ones that I can’t even consider thoroughly in this passion-dazed state.

“We’ll talk later,” I mumble in his direction.

And then, like a coward, I flee into the night.

16

MARIAH

The warm morning light streams through the stained glass windows in the inn’s lobby, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the reception desk. I absently trace my fingers over the shapes, my mind a thousand miles away from here.

I barely slept last night, my mind at war. Half of me wanted to run back to Thorak and finish what we’d started, and the other half of me was screaming to bury myself under my pillows and never reemerge.

In the moment, I believed every word he was saying—especially given his method of expressing his remorse. And the sensations he evoked inside of me…well, I’d say it was about the closest I’ve ever gotten to wielding magic myself.

But the minute we were interrupted, the spell was broken. All of our history came rushing back.

Even still, though, the taste of Thorak still lingers on my lips, the memory of his strong hands gripping my hips as his tongue⁠—

Ugh, Mariah. Get a grip.

I put my forehead down on the desk and close my eyes. Take a deep breath, and then another.

We’ll have our verdict from Kingsley soon and then I’ll be able to get some space from Thorak and…figure out what I’m feeling. For now, I just need to ignore my raging hormones and get through this.

Just then, the front door swings open. I glance up to find Thorak striding in purposefully, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him.

So much for ignoring my hormones.

“We need to talk,” he says in a low, serious voice as he approaches. I get another instant flashback to last night and the sinfully delicious growl of his voice as he murmured apologies into my core.

I nod slowly, swallowing back the nerves fluttering in my stomach as I step out from behind the desk.

Leading him to a quiet alcove off the main lobby, I sit on the edge of an overstuffed loveseat, chewing my lip anxiously.

Thorak sits down opposite me, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “About last night,” he begins hesitantly. “I just wanted to say⁠—”

“Thorak, wait,” I cut him off, my voice wavering slightly. “I’m not sure I’m ready to have this conversation.”

His brow furrows in confusion as he looks at me searchingly. “What do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentle but probing.

I sigh heavily, running a hand through my hair in agitation.

“This whole thing between us,” I say, gesturing vaguely in the space between our bodies. “I didn’t want this kind of romantic complication in my life. I need more time to think about this.”

Thorak is silent, his expression pensive as he seems to mull over my words. Then slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out and takes my hand in his much larger one, his calloused skin warm and somehow reassuring against my own.

My breath catches at his touch.

“Mariah,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that I can feel in my bones. “I’m aware this is unexpected. For both of us. But I need you to know that what happened between us wasn’t just physical for me.”

I have to fight the urge to yank my hand away, to run from the intensity in his gaze. A battle rages inside me—the primal desire to surrender to the undeniable pull between us, and the self-protective instinct to guard my battered heart behind impenetrable walls.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. What can I possibly say? That a huge part of me wants to crawl into his lap and have his arms around me again?

That the bigger, wiser part is terrified of risking the fragile peace I’ve found for myself on a man who once bullied me mercilessly?

Thorak seems to sense my inner turmoil. He squeezes my hand gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my knuckles.

“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to catch my gaze. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now. I just...I wanted you to know where I stand. That this means something to me. You mean something to me, Mariah. And if you decide you don’t want something romantic with me, that’s okay. I’d like to be in your life and I’ll take that role in whatever way works best for you.”

Tears sting behind my eyes and I blink rapidly, determined not to let them fall.

Thorak stands and gives my hand one last gentle squeeze before releasing it.

“I should go.” His deep voice is rough with pent-up emotion. “But, Mariah, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

With that, he strides purposefully out of the inn, the door swinging shut behind him, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness. I slump back against the loveseat, my racing heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm as I stare unseeingly across the room.

I’m still reeling, trying to process everything that just happened, when the creak of hinges makes me jump. I twist around to see Laurelle emerging from the back room, a sly smile on her face.

“Damn, Mariah!” the older woman exclaims, her voice pitched high with excitement. “What a man! I mean, did you see the way he was looking at you? Like you hung the freaking moon!”

She plops down beside me, the loveseat cushions bouncing under her enthusiastic weight. I groan, burying my face in my hands as mortification floods through me.

Of course Laurelle was eavesdropping. I should have known better than to have this conversation anywhere near her supersonic elf ears.

“It’s not...we’re not...” I sputter weakly, but Laurelle just cackles, throwing an arm around my hunched shoulders.

“Oh honey, don’t even try,” she says, her grin nearly splitting her face. “I haven’t seen chemistry like that since I accidentally mixed salamander spittle and dragon horn dust and nearly blew up my house!”

Despite the inner turmoil still churning in my gut, I can’t help but snort out a laugh at that mental image.

I lean into Laurelle’s half-embrace as I stare down at my hands twisting restlessly in my lap. “I don’t know what to do,” I admit quietly. “It’s all so...complex.”

Laurelle hums, giving my shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Of course it is,” she says, her tone suddenly gentle. “The best things always are. But you can’t let fear rob you of a chance at real happiness, sweet pea.”

I glance up at her, my brow furrowing. “But how do I know it’s real?” I whisper, the words tasting like broken glass on my tongue. “How do I know I can trust him after...everything?”

Laurelle is quiet for a long moment, her expression uncharacteristically somber as she seems to mull over my question. Finally, she shrugs.

“You don’t,” she says simply. “That’s the whole point. Love is a risk, babe. A leap of faith. No one can ever know for sure how it’ll turn out. But if you don’t jump, you’ll never fly.”

She stands, reaching down to boop me playfully on the nose as a mischievous twinkle returns to her eye. “Just don’t forget a harness, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Safety first and all that jazz.”

“Laurelle!” I swat at her, my cheeks flaming, but I’m laughing too.

Before we can continue the conversation, Kingsley walks over to us, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, his voice hesitant. “But I was wondering if you could give me some advice on where to go sightseeing today?”

Grateful for the distraction from my windmilling thoughts about Thorak, I nod and stand up. “Sure thing. Let me show you a map of the best spots in Elderberry Falls.”

I lead Kingsley over to the reception desk, where I keep a stack of colorful brochures highlighting the town’s attractions. I unfold the map across the polished wood surface and Kingsley leans in, his brow furrowed in concentration.

As I point out spots in town that he hasn’t seen yet, Kingsley’s demeanor begins to shift. His posture relaxes and the lines of his face soften, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

“You know,” he says, his voice tinged with wonder, “I never thought I’d say this, but Elderberry Falls is starting to grow on me.”

Surprise flickers through me at his admission. “Really?” I ask, my eyebrows arching upwards.

Kingsley nods, a hint of a smile on his mouth. “Seeing the way Thorak’s parents reacted last night...it made me realize that I’ve been a little closed-minded myself.”

Wow. I never would’ve taken Kingsley as a person willing to confront his own biases and preconceptions. I know firsthand how difficult it can be to challenge ingrained beliefs.

“I’m going to really explore the town today,” Kingsley tells me as he folds up the map. “Try to take it all in and understand the culture here.”

My smile grows as Kingsley turns to leave. “That’s great, Robert,” I say sincerely. “It sounds like you’re becoming a changed man!”

He glances back over his shoulder, a look of slight embarrassment creeping onto his face.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he says, waving off the compliment with a dismissive hand as he reaches the door. “If I’m going to be importing goods from Elderberry Falls, it only makes sense to have a better understanding of the place and its people.”

I know he’s trying to downplay it, to frame his newfound interest in the town as a purely pragmatic decision. But I can see the truth in his eyes, the way the charm of Elderberry Falls has begun to work its way under his skin.

It’s time for me to follow Kingsley’s example. Or take Laurelle’s advice.

It’s time to open myself up to magic—and take a leap of faith.

17

THORAK

The crystal clear water of Mermaid’s Lagoon shimmers as Finn and I sit on the grassy bank. Colorful fish dart beneath the surface and in the distance, the melodic songs of merfolk sunning themselves on the rocks drift over on the warm breeze.

Finn and I have been meeting up here for lunch once a week over the past couple of years. As we both got busier in our work lives—him with the law firm, me with the brewery start-up—we realized we needed to carve out regular time to maintain our friendship.

I take a swig of my Orc’s Anvil oak barrel stout and pass him a bottle. “How are the negotiations between the trolls and the goblins going?” I ask him.

There’s been a land ownership dispute happening at the edge of town. Once upon a time, these things would’ve been settled in a winner-takes-all battle to the death.

These days, litigators are involved.

Finn winces, putting his beer down. “A bloody nightmare. I’m running on fumes. But you seem extra tense today, even for you. What’s eating you?”

It’s remarkable how well he reads me. Most people take one look at me and just see a stoic, brutish monster but Finn can suss out every small change in my demeanor.

I sigh. “The deal with the investor and distributor, Robert, still isn’t done. You saw what went down with my parents last night, right in front of him.”

At that, Finn takes a big gulp of his drink. “Yeah that was…brutal.”

I nod. “I think Mariah and I got him back on board, but he’s taking his time making a decision.”

I actually ran into Robert in town on my way over here, head down in a map of Elderberry Falls and looking, weirdly, every bit the excited tourist. He told me he’d be at the inn tonight for Ecco’s next performance and I agreed to meet him there.

“And…Mariah?” Finn asks, a knowing look in his eye.

Finn didn’t go to high school with us; he moved to Elderberry Falls after law school. He didn’t see how horrible I was to her, although he’s heard plenty from me about it over the years. And he knows how much I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since.

“Things are, uh, progressing.”

I can’t hold back my grin as thoughts of last night with Mariah flood my mind. The way it felt to hold her thighs open with my tusks, the sweet taste of her arousal on my tongue, the breathy moans she made as I pleasured her...

Finn arches an eyebrow. “Progressing, huh? Do tell. You two finally kiss and make up?”

I clear my throat, trying to play it cool. But my cheeks heat, probably deepening my skin into a telltale darker shade of green. “You could say that. We, um, reconnected recently.”

“Reconnected?” Finn punches me in the arm, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“She needs time,” I tell him. “Space. To figure out how she’s feeling about all of this. I’m giving it to her.”

I meant what I told Mariah this morning. I would wait for her until the end of time.

“Anyway,” I continue onward, trying to shake thoughts of Mariah out of my head, “I’m meeting Robert at the inn tonight to see Ecco perform. You should join us.”

Finn glances away, fidgeting with a blade of grass. “Ah, I would but I have...other plans tonight. Perhaps another time.”

I raise an eyebrow. Finn never turns down a chance to socialize.

“Other plans, huh? Everything alright?” I probe gently, watching his face.

“Of course, just a prior engagement I need to attend to,” he says breezily. But he still won’t quite meet my eyes.

This caginess means one of two things when it comes to Finn. He either has a work thing going on at the law firm that he can’t discuss.

Or he’s seeing someone that he doesn’t want to tell me about.

I frown but decide not to push it. Clearly something is going on, but I trust Finn will tell me when he’s ready.

I have enough to worry about with Mariah and Robert.

By the evening, the lobby of the Moonflower has transformed into a cozy wonderland. Fairy lights drape the walls, pulsing gently like captured starlight. Glowing orbs hover near the ceiling, bathing everything in a dreamy luminescence.

My eyes scan the assembled guests, searching for the one person I’m most eager to see. It takes only a moment to spot Mariah across the room.

She’s breathtaking in a flowing lavender dress, her chestnut hair tumbling down her back in glossy waves. Mariah smiles as she chats with Ecco, the picture of a gracious hostess.

I make my way towards her, a schoolboy blush rising on my cheeks. It’s only been a few hours since I came by to talk to her, but it seems like an eternity. The memory of her soft skin beneath my hands sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.

I clench my fists, willing myself to stay in control.

As I approach, Mariah’s eyes meet mine over Ecco’s shoulder. For a split second, I see a flicker of uncertainty, and my stomach clenches. But then she smiles, soft and inviting, and the tension eases from my muscles.

“Thorak, you made it,” she greets me warmly, stepping forward to loop her arm through mine. The casual intimacy of the gesture sends a thrill down my spine.

I remind myself that Mariah asked for time. This means nothing, probably.

“Of course.” I cover her hand with my own, hyper-aware of every place our bodies touch. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Robert is already here,” Mariah informs me, tilting her head towards a cluster of seats near the small stage. Sure enough, I spot the businessman sitting stiffly in the plush armchair, looking out of place among the more relaxed magical crowd. “We should probably join him before the show starts.”

“Lead the way,” I agree, allowing her to guide me through the throng of people.

As we near Robert, I can’t help but marvel at the change in his demeanor. He still seems a bit ill at ease, but there’s a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he takes in the enchanted decor and whimsical refreshments.

A marked difference from the disdain and unease he first arrived with a week ago.

We settle into the seats beside him, exchanging pleasantries. “I must say, this is quite the event,” Robert comments, his gaze drifting over the room.

Mariah laughs, the sound like music to my ears.

“I’m hoping to turn Ecco’s performances into a regular weekly event,” she tells him. “The one you saw earlier in the week was sort of a last-minute trial run. This is more what I envision what it will look like going forward.” She chews her lip, contemplative. “If this is successful, I could see this being a real draw for guests and tourists.”

“I’m curious,” I say, turning to Mariah. “Does Ecco use her siren powers when she sings? Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather not end up in a trance on the floor...again.”

Mariah shakes her head with an amused smile. “No, she’s got them under control now. It took a lot of practice, but Ecco can perform without unintentionally enchanting everyone.”

She leans in conspiratorially toward, lowering her voice. “She does weave in a bit of siren magic though. Nothing too strong, just enough to create a nice, warm atmosphere. Like wrapping yourself in a cozy blanket or sipping a really good ale.”

“Magic and ale? Now that sounds like my kind of performance,” I quip, drawing a chuckle from Mariah and an intrigued look from Robert.

“You can use magic to recreate the sensation of drinking ale?” the businessman asks, his brow furrowing. “Fascinating. I never would have thought...”

He trails off, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“Forgive me, I’m still learning to expand my horizons when it comes to the magical world. This is all very new to me.”

“It’s a learning curve,” I say with a wry grin. “Even those of us who live here don’t truly understand the nuances of other folks’ powers.”

The last of the guests take their seats and the lights begin to dim, signaling the start of the show. I settle back in my chair, intensely aware of Mariah’s presence beside me.

No matter what transpires on stage tonight, I know the real magic is happening right here, in the space between us.

Ecco takes the stage and her ethereal melody flows through the room, weaving its spell over the enraptured audience. Her voice rises and falls like the tide, and the music resonates in my bones, stirring something deep and primal within me.

Beside me, Mariah sways slightly, her eyes half-closed as she loses herself in the siren’s song. The fairy lights cast a soft glow over her delicate features, making her seem almost dreamlike.

I long to reach out and pull her close, to have the warmth of her body against mine, but I resist the urge. We’re not there yet, no matter how badly I want it.

Instead, I let my gaze drift to Robert, curious to see how the human is reacting to the magic. To my surprise, he appears utterly transfixed, leaning forward in his seat as if trying to absorb every note. The lines of tension that usually crease his face have smoothed out, replaced by an expression of wonder and delight.

Robert turns to the elf sitting beside him and strikes up a conversation, gesturing animatedly as he speaks. The elf responds with a smile, and soon the two are engaged in a lively discussion, their voices barely audible over the music.

When the final notes of the final song fade away, the room erupts in applause. I join in, clapping until my hands sting, a grin spreading across my face.

Beside me, Robert leaps to his feet, his expression one of pure joy.

“Bravo!” he shouts, his voice carrying over the din. “Absolutely magnificent!”

Then he turns to me, clapping me on the shoulder. “I have to go call my wife and tell her about this. She’ll never believe it. Magical music…”

Robert shakes his head and wanders off toward his room, delight written all over his face. Mariah and I exchange pleased looks before she’s swept off into the crowd.

Eventually, the last of the guests filter out of the lobby and Mariah’s already starting to clean up, gathering discarded programs and empty glasses. I move to help her, ignoring her protests.

“Thorak, you don’t have to do that. I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” I say, my voice low. “But I’d like to help. Let me do this for you, Mariah.”

She hesitates. For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse, but then she nods, her mouth curving into a small smile.

We work in silence for a while, moving around each other with a practiced ease. Every brush of her hand against mine sends a jolt of electricity through me, every glimpse of her flushed cheeks and bright eyes making it harder to attend to the task at hand.

Tension builds between us and I catch Mariah sneaking glances at me when she thinks I’m not looking, her gaze lingering on my hands, my chest, my lips.

It’s maddening, being so close to her and yet so far away. I want to take her in my arms, to crush her against me and claim her mouth with my own. But I won’t, not until she’s ready.

We finish cleaning up the inn’s lobby and I’m about to say goodnight, to give Mariah the space she asked for this morning, when she suddenly turns to face me.

“Thorak, I...” She takes a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m ready for the conversation you wanted to have earlier.”

I step closer, barely daring to hope. “Mariah, what are you saying?”

She reaches out, her small, pale fingers grazing my cheek, and I lean into her touch, savoring the warmth of her skin against mine. “I’m saying that I’m not ready to put a label on it, but…I want you, Thorak. I’d like to see where this leads.”

I loosen a breath. “Are you sure? I don’t mean to talk you out of this, but you weren’t in this place this morning.”

Mariah nods firmly. “I’m sure. I was giving into fear and I’m done doing that.”

A wave of joy crashes over me, so intense that it nearly brings me to my knees. I take her hand in mine, pressing a fervent kiss to her palm.

“Mariah, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words.”

She smiles a radiant, heart-stopping smile that I know I’ll remember for the rest of my days. “I won’t lie, it’s been hard for me to come to terms with my feelings for you. But I’ve decided to accept that you’re not the same person you were back then. Neither am I. And I’m not going to fight this any longer.”

I gather her in my arms, marveling at how perfectly her small body fits against my large one.

“I meant what I said before, Mariah. We’ll go at your pace, follow your lead. You’re in control here, and I’ll never push you for more than you’re ready to give.”

Mariah’s eyes darken with desire as she gazes up at me. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between us any longer, I lean in, capturing her soft, inviting lips with my own.

The kiss starts off slow, tender, a gentle exploration. But as Mariah’s fingers tangle in my hair, her body melting against mine, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent.

I pour every ounce of my longing, my devotion, into the kiss, my hands roaming the curves of her body, mapping out the contours I’ve dreamed of touching for years. Mariah matches my fervor, her tongue tangling with mine, her teeth grazing my bottom lip in a way that has my cock twitching.

The world around us fades away, until there’s nothing but the two of us, lost in the intoxicating haze of our desire.

When we finally break apart, both of us breathless and flushed, Mariah’s eyes are hooded with want, her lips swollen from my kisses. She takes my hand, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across my skin, and leads me towards the back hallway.

“Come with me,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky.

18

MARIAH

Ilead Thorak down the hall to my quarters, anticipation coiling hot and tight in my belly with each step. It makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t in years.

This morning, fear held me back from embracing this potential with Thorak. But now, in the glow of Ecco’s magical performance and with the warmth of Thorak’s touch still lingering on my skin, I’m done fighting what my body so desperately wants.

When we reach my door, I pause, looking up at Thorak through my lashes. His amber eyes smolder with barely restrained hunger as his gaze roams over my body, setting my skin on fire. I fumble with the key, my hands shaking, before finally getting the door open.

The moment we step inside, Thorak spins me to face him, claiming my mouth in a searing kiss. I moan into it, melting against his massive, hard body as he kicks the door shut behind us. His large hands skim over my curves possessively, igniting sparks of pleasure in their wake.

I arch into his touch, aching for more contact. The rough pads of his fingers catch on the delicate fabric of my dress as he maps my body, learning every slope and valley.

Thorak tears his mouth from mine, his breathing ragged.

“Mariah,” he rumbles, his deep voice sending shivers through me. “Tell me to stop and I will. We don’t have to do this.”

I shake my head vehemently, my fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.

“Don’t you dare stop,” I pant. “I want this. I want you.”

A low, approving growl vibrates through his chest and then his mouth is on my neck, his tusks pressing into me as he licks and nips a fiery path to my collarbone. I gasp and tilt my head back, giving him better access as I tangle my fingers in his thick black hair.

Thorak’s hands find the zipper of my dress and he pauses, pulling back to look at me with a question in his eyes. I nod breathlessly and he slowly draws the zipper down, his knuckles brushing against my spine and making me shiver. The dress slips from my shoulders and pools at my feet, leaving me in just my simple white bra and cotton panties.

Thorak’s heated gaze rakes over my body appreciatively, his eyes taking on a feral edge. “You’re so beautiful, Mariah,” he rasps, his voice rough with desire.

Emboldened, I reach out and start unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers, revealing more and more of his chiseled green chest.

Thorak shrugs out of his shirt impatiently and pulls me flush against him, his bare skin scorching against mine. I run my hands over the hard planes of his chest, marveling at the bunched muscles beneath my palms.

For a brewer, he’s built like a warrior—all strength and power barely leashed. And right now, all that intensity is focused solely on me.

Thorak’s large hands skim down my back and over the curve of my ass. He grips me firmly and lifts me up, urging my legs to wrap around his waist. I comply eagerly, locking my ankles at his lower back.

The hard, thick ridge of his erection presses against my core through his pants, making me gasp.

He carries me over to my bed and lays me down gently, his body blanketing mine. The solid weight of him on top of me, surrounding me, makes me feel safe and cherished, even as the heat between us ratchets higher.

Thorak’s mouth finds my breast, his teeth scraping over my nipple through the thin fabric of my bra. I cry out, my back arching off the bed as the exquisite sensation shoots straight to my center. He lavishes attention on my breasts, nipping and sucking until I’m writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

“Thorak, please,” I moan, not even sure what I’m begging for. I just know I need him, all of him.

With a low growl, he reaches behind me and deftly unhooks my bra, tossing it aside. Then his large, calloused hands are on my bare breasts, kneading and plucking at my aching nipples. I mewl in pleasure, my nails digging into his broad shoulders as the sensations overwhelm me.

Thorak’s rough palms are exquisite against my sensitive skin, each touch sending jolts of electricity to my most intimate places.

He dips his head, drawing one tight nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, his tusks framing my breast. I gasp and arch into him as his tongue swirls around the hardened peak. He grazes it with his teeth before sucking hard, making me cry out.

“So responsive,” Thorak rumbles appreciatively against my breast. “I could do this for hours, just to hear all the pretty noises you make.”

I squirm impatiently beneath him, desperate for more. “Thorak, I need you,” I pant. “Please...”

He releases my nipple and kisses his way down my quivering stomach. When he reaches the waistband of my panties, he hooks his fingers in the fabric and looks up at me, his amber eyes blazing with need.

“May I?” he rumbles, his deep voice sending shivers through me.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Take them off.”

Thorak slowly drags my panties down my legs and tosses them aside. Then he gently parts my thighs, exposing my most intimate place to his heated gaze.

Even though we’ve been in this position previously, I flush, suddenly vulnerable and shy. Something about being in my bedroom makes this ten times more personal.

But the raw hunger in Thorak’s eyes chases away any insecurity.

“Mariah,” he groans, his voice reverent. “You’re exquisite. You are the best thing I’ve ever tasted and I’ve been dying for more.”

His words send heat rushing through my veins, pooling between my thighs. Thorak settles between my legs, tossing them over his broad shoulders. He kisses his way up my inner thigh, his tusks dragging teasingly over my sensitive skin.

I whimper and try to press closer, aching for his touch where I need it most.

“Please,” I beg shamelessly, too far gone to care how desperate I sound.

Thorak chuckles darkly, the vibrations against my thigh making me shiver. “Patience, little human. I’ll give you what you need.”

Finally, blessedly, he puts his mouth on me, his tongue delving between my slick folds. I cry out at the first firm stroke, my hands fisting in the comforter as pleasure crashes through me. He licks a long, slow path up my slit before swirling around my aching clit.

I’m already so worked up from our foreplay that the intensity makes me see stars.

“Oh gods, yes,” I moan, my hips lifting off the mattress, seeking more of his talented mouth. “Just like that!”

Thorak growls approvingly against my sensitive flesh, the vibrations making me gasp. He seals his lips around my clit and sucks gently while flicking the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue.

I thrash my head on the pillow, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensation. Thorak’s tusks press into my inner thighs, the dull points a delicious contrast to the silky swipes of his tongue. I tangle my fingers in his thick hair, holding him to me as he feasts on my aching flesh. His large hands grip my hips, pinning me in place as he devours me.

“Thorak!” I gasp, my thighs trembling around his head. “Don’t stop...”

He growls, the vibrations against my sensitive core making me writhe and moan. Thorak plunges his huge tongue inside me, thrusting in and out, mimicking what I’m dying to feel. Then he focuses on my clit again, lashing the swollen pearl relentlessly while slipping one thick finger into my tight channel.

My inner walls clench greedily around the welcome intrusion. Even just the one finger is so large that it stretches me. I moan thinking about what two will be like…or what Thorak’s cock might do to me.

Thorak pumps his finger slowly, letting me adjust to the size before adding a second. He curls them forward, stroking a spot inside me that has my toes curling and my back bowing off the bed again.

“Yes, right there!” I keen, my voice high and breathy. “Ah, Thorak, it feels so good...”

He groans against my flesh, the sound one of male satisfaction. His tongue swirls faster around my clit as his fingers thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot again and again. The dual stimulation is almost too much to bear. My orgasm builds fast, my inner walls starting to flutter around his thick fingers.

“That’s it, Mariah,” Thorak rumbles, his deep voice vibrating through me. “Come undone on my tongue.”

His filthy words are my undoing. With a sharp cry, I shatter, my body convulsing with the force of my climax. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me as Thorak works me through it with his talented mouth and fingers, prolonging my pleasure until I’m limp and boneless beneath him.

When the aftershocks finally subside, he places a tender kiss on my inner thigh before crawling up my body and gathering me in his strong arms. I melt into his embrace, my skin still tingling and over-sensitized.

“That was incredible,” I murmur, nuzzling into his neck. “You’re very good at that.”

Thorak chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I aim to please.”

He tilts my chin up and captures my mouth in a deep, languid kiss, the taste of my own sweetness still on his lips. I run my hands down Thorak’s broad back, his bunched muscles beneath my palms. He groans into my mouth as I scratch my nails lightly over his green skin.

Breaking the kiss, I push on his shoulders until he rolls onto his back, allowing me to straddle his hips. The large bulge straining against his pants presses deliciously against my sensitive core and we both moan at the contact.

I grind down instinctively, seeking more friction.

“Mariah,” Thorak grits out, his hands flying to my hips. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.”

I grin down at him, emboldened by the raw need in his eyes. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? I want to feel you inside me, Thorak.”

His eyes flash with desire at my bold words. In a blur of movement, he sits up and wraps his arms around me, crushing my chest to his.

“Are you sure?” he rumbles, nuzzling my neck. “We can take this slow...”

“I’m sure,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his thick hair. “I need you, Thorak. All of you.”

19

MARIAH

With a low growl, Thorak flips us over so I’m pinned beneath him again. He kisses me fiercely before standing up to quickly shed his remaining clothes.

My breath catches in my throat as Thorak straightens, completely bare before me. His massive green body is a work of art—all sculpted muscle and raw power. My eyes drift lower, widening at the sight of his enormous, thick cock jutting proudly from a nest of black curls.

I’ve been with monsters before but never an orc, and Thorak is...big. Really big. His cock juts proudly away from his body, long and thick, swollen with need. The dark green, pointed head glistens with precum.

But it’s the deep, prominent ridges spanning his entire, intimidating length that make my eyes widen.

Monsters and magical beings are usually built differently than human men, but I’ve never seen anything like this before. I reach out my hand and stroke a finger down one of the thick ridges spanning Thorak’s massive shaft.

He sucks in a sharp breath as my finger traces the unique texture.

“Mariah,” Thorak rumbles, his deep voice strained with barely leashed control. “Unless you want this to be over very quickly, you might not want to do that.”

I look up at him from beneath my lashes, emboldened by the raw need etched on his handsome face. “I can’t help it. I’ve never seen a cock like yours before. The ridges...”

He grins wolfishly. “Ah yes, the ridges. An orc specialty, you could say. Designed for a female’s maximum pleasure. But I don’t want to hurt you, Mariah…”

I shake my head, my heart pounding with equal parts nerves and anticipation. “You won’t. I have some lube in my bedside drawer,” I tell him breathlessly. “And I’m on protection.”

I don’t need to say more. We have a specialty lube in Elderberry Falls, imbued with magic to help with interspecies couplings.

Thorak nods and retrieves the lube from my bedside drawer. He pours a generous amount onto his fingers, then guides them between my thighs.

I gasp as he spreads the slick substance over my folds, rubbing gentle circles down my entrance. The magical lube tingles pleasantly against my skin as Thorak massages it into me.

“Please, Thorak,” I say, pulling him closer. “I need you now.”

Thorak settles his large, muscular body over mine, the heat of his skin searing me. He kisses me deeply as he positions himself at my entrance.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs against my lips. “We’ll go slow.”

I nod, a thrill of anticipation running through me. Thorak keeps his eyes locked on mine as he starts to push inside me.

The first press of his massive cockhead against my opening makes me gasp. Even slick with lube, he stretches me more than I’ve ever been stretched before.

Thorak slowly sinks into me inch by delicious inch, his eyes never leaving my face, watching intently for any signs of discomfort. I force myself to relax and take slow, deep breaths as my inner walls stretch to accommodate his substantial girth.

The ridges along his shaft drag exquisitely against my sensitive flesh, igniting sparks of pleasure with each push forward. When he’s finally buried to the hilt, we both groan at the feeling of completeness.

“Gods, Mariah, you feel incredible,” Thorak rumbles, his voice strained. “So tight and perfect around me.”

I can only moan in response, too overwhelmed by the intense fullness and the exquisite friction of his thick ridges against my inner walls. Thorak holds himself still, allowing me time to adjust to his substantial size. He brushes feather-light kisses across my face as he waits for my body to acclimate to the intrusion.

After a few moments, the discomfort recedes and pleasure takes over. I experimentally roll my hips, gasping at the way it makes Thorak’s cock hit a sensitive spot deep inside me.

“Thorak, move,” I plead breathlessly. “I need you to move.”

Thorak captures my mouth in a searing kiss as he slowly starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip remains inside me before surging forward again. I cry out into his mouth at the exquisite drag of his thick ridges against my fluttering walls. He sets a steady, deep rhythm, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in to the hilt.

“Yes, Thorak, just like that,” I moan, my nails digging into his muscular back. “It’s so good.”

Thorak growls his approval, the primal sound vibrating through me. He picks up the pace, driving into me faster and harder as his control starts to slip. Each powerful thrust hits a spot inside me that has me seeing stars, the ridges along his massive length stoking the fires of my pleasure higher and higher.

I wrap my legs around his large waist, tilting my hips to take him even deeper. The new angle allows his cock to hit that perfect spot inside me with every thrust, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through my body.

“Mariah,” Thorak groans, his deep voice strained with pleasure. “I’ve wanted this for so long...”

His words inflame me even more, knowing he’s fantasized about this moment for years, wanting me even as I hated him. Thorak buries his face in my neck, his tusks scraping deliciously against it as he pounds into me, the titillating sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

I’m lost to the intense sensations, my entire being focused on the exquisite drag of Thorak’s ridged cock inside me. Each thrust sends me hurtling closer to the edge, the coil of tension low in my belly winding tighter and tighter.

Thorak’s thrusts become more erratic, his breathing ragged against my neck as he chases his own release.

“Mariah, I’m close,” he grits out, his muscles tensing above me. “But all I care about is you. Let me make you come first.”

His deep, rumbling words are my undoing. With a sharp cry, I come apart, my inner walls clamping down on his thick shaft as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over me.

Thorak growls, the sound primal and possessive, as my climax triggers his own. He buries himself to the hilt and stills, his massive cock throbbing and pulsing inside me as he finds his release.

We cling to each other as the aftershocks slowly subside, our bodies slick with sweat and our breathing labored. Thorak rolls us onto our sides, cradling me against his broad chest. He brushes my damp hair back from my face and places a tender kiss on my forehead.

“That was...incredible,” I murmur, still boneless and in awe of Thorak’s ridges. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Thorak smiles, his eyes soft with affection. “Neither have I, Mariah. That was more amazing than I’d ever dreamed it could be.”

We lay like that for a while, basking in the afterglow, our limbs tangled together. Thorak’s large hands caress my back soothingly as my racing heart gradually slows.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, staring down at me with an almost self-conscious look.

I tilt my head up to look at him. There’s only one thing on my mind.

“Again.”

20

THORAK

When I wake in the early morning hours, Mariah’s warm, supple body is nestled against my chest, her chestnut hair fanned out across the pillow. She stirs slightly, murmuring my name. A surge of affection and possessiveness washes over me.

Last night was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. The moment our lips met, all the pent-up desire and longing combusted into an inferno.

I close my eyes, savoring the vivid flashes of memory—the silky caress of her skin against my hands, the heated look in her eyes as she stroked the ridges of my cock, the blissful union of our bodies as I claimed her, again and again, until we collapsed in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs.

The air in her quarters still hangs heavy with the heady musk of our lovemaking.

I know I should slip away, get to the brewery early to get the day’s operations started. But my entire body rebels at the thought of leaving Mariah’s embrace.

We orcs mate for life, but I’ve never understood the true depth of that bond. With Ygra, I couldn’t get myself to a place where I ever wanted to make that commitment, to tie myself to her side for eternity.

But after last night, my world has been turned on its head. I would do anything to get Mariah to accept me as her mate.

With a soft groan, I force myself to disentangle from Mariah’s sleeping form. She makes a small noise of protest that nearly crumbles my resolve, but I know I have responsibilities to tend to, no matter how much it kills me to leave her side. I only hope Mariah will understand my absence when she wakes.

I dress as quietly as I can, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest and the way the sunlight dances across her flawless skin. It takes every inch of my resolve to not crawl back into the bed and wake her up with my tongue.

Reluctantly, I slip out of Mariah’s quarters, down the hall and into the inn’s lobby. It’s empty and quiet in these early morning hours, the opposite of last night’s performance.

I’m halfway to the door when a familiar voice stops me in my tracks. “Just the male I wanted to see!”

I spin around to find Robert Kingsley coming down the stairs to the guest rooms, impeccably groomed even at this early hour.

“Good morning,” I say, wishing I could’ve had some coffee before this interaction. But it’s nice to see Robert in good spirits; the afterglow of Ecco’s performance seems to still be lingering.

Robert strides towards me purposefully, a broad smile lighting up his distinguished features. “I was going to come find you this morning. I’ve made a decision, Thorak. I’m going to invest in Orc’s Anvil and help you distribute your ales far and wide. I’ve been impressed by your business acumen and I believe in your vision.”

For a moment, I’m struck speechless.

“I...I don’t know what to say,” I stammer eventually, my voice thick with emotion. To have Robert’s backing, to finally bring a taste of Elderberry Falls’ magic to the rest of the world… “Thank you, Robert. You won’t regret this.”

“I’m sure I won’t.” He claps me on the shoulder, eyes twinkling. “Your brews are something special, Thorak. Let’s share them with those who need a little enchantment in their lives.”

I nod vigorously, a grin splitting my face. “Absolutely. I’ll have my lawyer Finn draw up the paperwork right away. We’ll toast to a bright future!”

We shake on it, Robert’s hand firm in my larger one, sealing our new partnership.

I head out into the morning feeling like I’m walking on air, each step buoyant. The quaint streets of Elderberry Falls take on an even more vibrant sheen—the colorful storefronts shining brighter, the scent of honeysuckle sweeter.

Arriving at the brewery, I pause to admire the rustic stone facade. Soon, the whole world will know this brewery. Then, I throw open the weathered oak doors and striding inside. The rich aroma of malted barley greets me like an old friend.

My team is already hard at work, measuring out fragrant hops with meticulous care, testing recipes to coax out bold new flavors. I move between them, offering words of encouragement that come easier than ever before.

Gruna’s in the back office, poring over invoices, her brow adorably furrowed in concentration. She glances up as I burst in, practically bouncing on my feet in excitement.

“You’ll never guess what just happened, Gru! Robert’s on board. He’s going to help us expand, get our ales out there in the human world!”

Gruna leaps from her chair and throws her arms around me. “Oh Thorak, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

We hold each other tightly, swaying back and forth as we laugh in pure elated relief. This business has not been easy for Gruna, either. Even though she’s closer to Ma and Da, or maybe especially because of their closeness, I know she’s always fretting about disappointing them by striking out on her own.

But now, our dream is finally within reach.

Once Gruna composes herself, dabbing at her eyes, she shoos me out of the office with a playful smirk.

“Well don’t just stand here grinning like a fool. We have a celebration to plan, and I bet there’s a certain lovely innkeeper who deserves to hear the good news.”

She’s right, of course. I practically skip to my own office, pulling out my phone. Mariah picks up on the first ring.

“Oh, so he lives,” she says, a playful tone in her voice. “I missed you this morning. I was hoping for a third go. Where did you run off to?”

I run a nervous hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry I left you like that. I had to get to Orc’s Anvil to get the tanks going and I didn’t want to wake you. But I have some exciting news that I’d much rather share in person. Can you come by the brewery this afternoon?”

“I should be able to slip away for a while,” she says. “See you in a couple of hours.”

I reluctantly end the call, wishing I could just keep Mariah’s voice in my ear all day. But there’s work to do and a celebration to prepare for.

The next couple hours fly by in a blur of activity. I oversee the latest batch of our signature ale, approve new label designs, and even manage to sneak in a quick grooming session for Snuffles, who’s been trotting around the brewery carrying a little barrel on his back, much to the delight of the staff.

I’m just putting the finishing touches on a special experimental brew I’ve been tinkering with, a rich stout infused with Mariah’s favorite dark chocolate and chili peppers, when I hear the front door chime. My heart leaps into my throat and I bound out to the tasting room, an eager grin on my face.

But the figure silhouetted in the doorway is not the petite, curvy frame I was expecting.

“Hello, Thorak. It’s been a while.”

Ygra steps into the brewery as if she owns it, her large figure imposing. Time has only enhanced her beauty, her angular features sharper and more striking than ever. She saunters towards me with confident grace.

“Ygra. What are you doing here?” I manage, my throat suddenly dry.

She smiles shyly, her gray eyes lighting up as she looks around the brewery. “Wow, the place has really come together over the past year, Thor. I can’t believe I ever doubted you.”

I, for one, was never surprised that she doubted me. Ygra is a kind female, but ambitious. Striking out on my own got in the way of her plans for us: taking over my family’s company, inheriting their wealth, becoming the society couple to envy in Elderberry Falls.

I just grunt in response.

Breaking up was good for both of us. I was able to give my full attention to my dreams, and without me tying her here, Ygra took an architecture apprenticeship with a renowned giant architect who specializes in monster dwellings.

Ma mentioned that she’d seen Ygra again around town but I didn’t think she’d want to rehash the past either.

Her gaze flickers back toward me and she smiles again, a little bolder this time, and moves toward me. “My apprenticeship ended last month so I’m back, for good. I’m starting a new job at a firm here. I was hoping…”

She trails off, biting her lip and looking uncharacteristically coy.

“What, Ygra?” I ask, a bite in my tone. All of a sudden, I can sense where this is going and I don’t like it at all.

Ygra reaches out, putting a hand on my bicep. She looks at me pleadingly, her gaze almost level with mine.

“I was hoping we could get together for coffee soon. I’d love to talk about what happened between us. I’ve been thinking about you all year, Thor. I know I fucked things up. But I’ve changed. I’d like to show you that.”

Politely as I can, I pull my arm out of her hand. I don’t want to hurt her; I loved her, once. But that love is long gone.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Ygra,” I gently tell her. “I’ve moved on. But I’ll see you around town, okay?”

I turn and walk back toward the brewing area, needing to put some distance between us.

Before I can get too far, Ygra pleads, “Thorak, wait⁠—”

As I turn around to tell her to leave, her heel catches a slick patch of newly mopped floor and her legs go out from under her. I lunge forward and catch her, my arms around her waist, Ygra in a sultry swoon.

And at that exact moment, with my arms wrapped around my ex-girlfriend in an undoubtedly intimate-looking pose, Mariah walks in the door.

21

MARIAH

The moment I swing open the heavy door of Orc’s Anvil, my breath stops in my chest.

Thorak stands in the middle of the taproom, his large green hands spanning the waist of a statuesque giantess as she leans dramatically backwards, her lustrous, long dark hair nearly brushing the concrete floor.

The romantic tableau sends a jolt of shock through me.

Thorak spots me and quickly pushes the giantess away, his chiseled face a mix of surprise and dismay.

“Mariah,” he says gruffly, his voice echoing in the nearly empty taproom. “This is Ygra, my...ex-girlfriend. Ygra, this is Mariah...my...”

He trails off awkwardly, clearly unsure how to define our relationship. Fake fiancée? One-night-stand from last night? Something more?

My fingers instinctively tighten around the delicate necklace Thorak returned to me last week, the one his friend Zara had callously broken. The cool metal against my skin has been a comfort, a reminder of his care, but now it just feels heavy and lifeless.

“I’m helping Thorak with his distribution deal,” I say to Ygra, pasting on a friendly smile even as my stomach twists with nerves.

I want to trust Thorak, to believe in the tender connection that sparked between us, but seeing him in another woman’s arms stirs up all my old insecurities about how trustworthy he really is.

To my annoyance, Ygra is even more arresting up close. She stands at least a foot taller than me, her well-defined features striking rather than traditionally pretty. High cheekbones, full lips, and glittering gray eyes give her a magnetic appeal.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you!” Ygra gushes, her melodious voice filling the cavernous space. She clasps my hand in both of hers, her genuine enthusiasm and friendly expression making it hard to dislike her outright. “Any friend of Thorak’s is a friend of mine.”

Her casual reference to me as a “friend” pricks at my heart, a stab of jealousy shooting through me. What is Ygra to him? Is she a friend now, too? Or would he consider his ex to be something more?

I want to be the only woman lighting up Thorak’s world, I realize.

Especially after last night.

But now, with Ygra beaming at me expectantly, a wave of uncertainty passes over me.

Forcing a smile, I squeeze Ygra’s hand and then release it. “Great to meet you too,” I say, attempting to sound as enthusiastic as she did, but falling a bit flat.

Ygra looks between me and Thorak, quirking an eyebrow as the silence stretches awkwardly. “Well, I’ll catch up with you later, Thor,” she says lightly, and then pulls him into a hug before heading out.

The door closes behind Ygra with a soft click. I turn to Thorak, my brow furrowed. I know I must have unspoken questions all over my face, because he immediately starts speaking.

“It wasn’t what it looked like, Mariah,” Thorak says awkwardly, his deep voice tinged with a note of desperation. “I swear, I was just catching her. She slipped on a wet spot where someone had mopped the floor.”

I should believe him. I should trust in the sincerity shining in his golden eyes, in the gentle way his large hands engulf mine. But apprehension niggles at the back of my mind, a persistent whisper I can’t quite silence.

That same feeling crept into my mind this morning…when I woke up alone, tangled sheets, Thorak’s warmth notably absent.

The self-doubt that followed, the way I talked myself out of my hurt—it all feeds into my current uncertainty, each small worry compounding into a leaden weight in my stomach.

Jolting me out of my inner turmoil, Thorak squeezes my hands, his gaze earnest. “Mariah, the reason I wanted you to come over was to tell you in person that we did it. Robert is going to distribute my ales, and it’s all thanks to you.”

Joy bursts through me, momentarily overshadowing my doubts and insecurities. “Thorak, that’s incredible!” I exclaim, throwing my arms around his neck.

He spins me around in excitement, his laughter rumbling through his chest. When he sets me down, his lips find mine in a searing kiss. My worries temporarily disappear, chased away by the heat that shoots through me.

I let myself sink into the solid warmth of him for a moment before pulling back slightly to look into his face.

“I guess this means we can stop pretending to be engaged,” I say tentatively, testing the waters.

Thorak’s face darkens, his brow furrowing. “Of course not,” he says firmly. “The paperwork will take a while, and who knows how long Robert will need to stay in town while it’s being done. We may have to be fake engaged for weeks still!”

I paste on a smile. Thorak tells me he’s prepared a special batch of ale for the occasion and pours us both glasses, the rich dark liquid swirling with enchanted golden bubbles.

We toast to our success, but as I take a sip, the ale tastes bitter on my tongue. The celebration is hollow, tainted by that small, anxious voice that has crept in.

How much of our relationship is just an act? And once the contracts are signed, what then?

I should be over the moon, swept up in Thorak’s infectious enthusiasm as he talks about the deal. But I can’t shake the image of him and Ygra. The spice of her perfume still hangs in the air, distracting me every time I take a breath.

I take another swig of ale, hoping the gentle burn will chase away her presence. But instead the drink settles in my stomach like lead.

My mood is still low when I step inside The Enchanted Bean the next afternoon. The coffeeshop’s quaint charm starts to ease my anxiety immediately, the overstuffed armchairs beckoning. I sink gratefully into a fluffy turquoise chair, its enchantment making the huge pillows feel like a comforting hug.

Like magic, one of the baristas, a slender young fae with striking tattoos, sets down my usual order before me mere moments after I arrive.

But even the comfort of my favorite coffee shop can’t fully lift the somber mood that clings to me like a shadow. I’ve barely taken a sip of my drink when Ecco arrives, her shimmering blue hair cascading behind her as settles in next to me.

“Hi!” she exclaims, violet eyes wide with excitement as she settles in across from me. “Okay, I have been dying here. What is going on with you and Thorak? The tension between you two was off the charts at my performance the other night. Spill.”

I can’t hold back my blush, memories of two nights ago flooding back. “We slept together,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ecco’s face lights up. “You did! I knew it, he’s head-over-heels for you.”

“It was...unbelievable,” I admit, a wistful smile tugging at my lips. “Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, with anyone. But...”

I tap my mug gently and watch as it refills itself with steaming, aromatic coffee. My gaze catches on the swirling patterns of my vanilla foam.

“There’s a part of me that can’t let go of our past,” I tell her. “And now, with his deal about to close and the extermination at the inn almost done...what if he doesn’t want me anymore when this is all over?”

Ecco reaches across the table, resting her hand on mine. “Mariah, honey. From what I’ve seen, that orc is completely smitten with you. Don’t let your fears make you blind to what’s right in front of you.”

Just as I open my mouth to respond, I catch a snatch of conversation from the next table over. A group of witches clutch mismatched teacups and nibble on scones. Their voices carry in the tiny space.

“Did you hear? Ygra’s back in town,” one of them says, clearly reveling in the gossip.

My heart seizes painfully.

“I heard she and Thorak are getting back together,” another witch chimes in. “They always made such a natural couple.”

My fingers tighten around my mug until my knuckles turn white. The doubts that had been receding suddenly solidify again, sharp and painful.

Ecco, bless her, immediately notices my distress. “Ignore them,” she says firmly, squeezing my hand. “Gossiping harpies, the lot of them.”

I know she’s right. I force myself to take a deep breath and unclench my jaw. But in the back of my mind, I worry the damage isn’t so easily undone. The seed of doubt has been planted, and I fear it will take more than Ecco’s reassurances to uproot it.

Well, then. I don’t have to sit around and wait for a sign. I resolve to go talk to Thorak immediately after Ecco and I leave The Enchanted Bean. The decision takes just a smidge of the tension from my shoulders.

“Enough about that. Tell me about you,” I say, leaning in. “How are you feeling about the gigs at the inn?”

I set off towards Thorak’s house with single-minded intention, my steps quick and purposeful—and perhaps fueled by a cup too much of coffee, if I’m honest.

The words I’m going to say to him play on a loop in my mind.

I’ll tell him that I want to define our relationship, to be open with everyone about it. It’s fast, but our past is screwing with my head, and I’ve realized that I need certainty about what we’re doing.

No more ambiguity.

But when I near his stone cottage, I see a figure emerging from the front door.

My stomach twists as I recognize Ygra’s statuesque form. She’s walking Thorak’s teacup boar, Snuffles, who trots happily at her feet, his adorable little hooves tapping merrily on the pavement.

Snuffles is a tiny thing, barely reaching Ygra’s ankles. His glossy black fur gleams in the sunlight, his little pink snout twitching as he snuffles along the ground. I’d appreciate his cuteness more if I didn’t want to throw up at the sight of the giantess walking him.

If Ygra is nothing to worry about and she and Thorak are truly over…

What is she doing here at his home, walking his pet?

Ygra spots me and waves, her easy smile as bright as the sun. “Maria! How lovely to see you,” she calls out, butchering my name.

I force my own smile, taking a deep breath. “It’s Mariah, actually,” I correct her, my voice strained.

“Of course, silly me,” Ygra laughs, waving a dismissive hand. “Thank you for all your help with Thor’s deal. We both so appreciate you.”

Each kind word is like a dagger to my chest, her friendly demeanor only heightening my discomfort. What does she mean they both appreciate me?

Have they been talking about me? Together?

Ygra lifts her hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and I can’t control the gasp I let out.

There’s an ornate engagement ring on her ring finger.

It’s a stunning piece, clearly ancient and valuable. The gems catch the light, casting a kaleidoscope of colors. Ygra sees me looking at it and smiles, holding out her hand for a better view.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it? It’s an Ironfist family heirloom,” she explains, her voice tinged with pride.

The words punch me in the gut.

Why the hell is Ygra wearing Thorak’s family heirloom engagement ring? My mind goes blank, filled with the buzz of panic.

There’s only one, extremely obvious explanation. Gods, I am such a fucking fool.

“It’s lovely,” I manage to choke out when I realize the silence has stretched on too long. My voice sounds foreign to my own ears.

Ygra points to the ring on my finger, the one Thorak gave me as the ring for our fake engagement.

“Oh, and look what you’re wearing! Isn’t that precious? That was my old promise ring from Thorak. It’s so cute that he gave it to you for your little fake-engagement charade!”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The color drains from my face, and I feel my hands start to shake.

Ygra beams, oblivious to my inner turmoil. She gives Snuffles’s leash a gentle tug. “Well, we best be off. It was wonderful to bump into you, Maria!”

She saunters off, Snuffles trotting happily beside her. I’m left standing alone on the sidewalk, my carefully rehearsed speech forgotten, my world tilting on its axis.

My mind races, piecing together all the little doubts and inconsistencies from the past few days—Thorak’s early morning departure, the intimate scene at the brewery between him and Ygra, his insistence that we keep our focus on faking an engagement, the gossiping witches at the cafe, and now this.

The memories combine and twist together in my head, berating me.

How could I have been so blind? So stupid?

Thorak and Ygra are clearly together. Engaged for real. I was just a pawn in their game, a means to an end.

Thorak played me.

Again.

And like a glutton for punishment, I let him.

Anger surges through me, white-hot and all-consuming. I turn on my heel and start walking, my steps quick and purposeful.

I have no idea where I’m going, but I know I can’t stay here. I need to put as much distance between myself and Thorak as possible.

I’m furious at him for his deception, for making me believe that we could have something real. But I’m even angrier at myself for letting my guard down, for allowing myself to be vulnerable.

Never again. I’ve learned my lesson, once and for all.

22

THORAK

The door creaks as I enter my stone cottage, my mind alight with thoughts of Mariah. The softness of her skin, and of her sweet lips. The way she moaned my name when I was deep inside her. I can hardly wait to get back to the inn tonight and learn every way to make her come undone beneath me.

But as I walk through my home, my fantasies slowly dissipate as I realize something’s off. It’s too quiet.

“Snuffles?” I call out. Silence. No patter of hooves, no eager snorting.

Panic rises as I rush from room to room, searching for any sign of my beloved boar. He’s nowhere to be found. I groan, a sinking sensation in my gut.

Ygra. It has to be her.

When we broke things off, we fought bitterly over custody of Snuffles. He is and was my boar, my beloved pet even before I knew Ygra, but she insisted that because of our time together Snuffles was as much hers as mine.

She must have taken him while I was at work.

Jaw clenched, I grab my phone and angrily punch in her number. She picks up on the second ring.

“Where are you and where is my boar?” I demand, not even trying to hide the snarl in my voice.

“Thorak,” Ygra says calmly. “Snuffles is with me, and he’s fine. Relax.”

Her calm voice only makes me angrier. “Where are you right this moment?” I grit out, feeling my lips pulling back into a growl.

Ygra sighs. “Meet me at our old spot, the glade by the stream. I’ll explain everything there.”

I bristle with irritation. “Fine. I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, I stuff the phone in my pocket and storm out. Ygra better have a damn good explanation for this.

Sunlight filters through the rustling leaves overhead as I make my way through the forest toward the familiar grove. The gentle babbling of the brook reaches my ears and my heart clenches at the sound, memories flooding back.

Ygra and I spent countless hours here when we were together—talking, laughing, making love on the mossy banks. Back when things were good between us, before it all turned sour.

It’s no mere coincidence that she’s led me to this place.

I emerge into the sun-dappled clearing to find Ygra perched on a fallen log, Snuffles curled up beside her. Relief crashes through me at the sight of him safe and sound.

But seeing him with her...my relief mixes with anger at her audacity.

“Thorak,” Ygra says softly, unshed tears shimmering in her steely eyes as she rises to greet me. “Thank you for coming.”

I cross my arms. “You didn’t give me much choice. What’s this about, Ygra? Why’d you take Snuffles?”

She takes a shaky breath. “I wanted to apologize. For everything.”

My brow furrows but I stay silent, letting her continue.

“I know I messed up what we had. I pushed you too hard, trying to change you into something you’re not,” Ygra admits, voice thick with emotion. “But look at you now. You’ve built something incredible with the brewery, all on your own terms. You’ve proven me so wrong and I couldn’t be more proud.”

Her words wash over me, anger slowly ebbing away. I sigh heavily.

“I appreciate you saying that. Truly. But Ygra...you can’t just barge into my house and take Snuffles whenever you want. We’re not together anymore. It’s not appropriate.”

Ygra nods, face reddening. “I know. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I just...I miss you, Thorak. Miss us. Don’t you ever wonder...what would happen if we gave this a second chance?”

She steps closer, an imploring look in her eyes. I take a deep breath.

“Ygra,” I say gently, choosing my words with care. “The past is the past. What we had was meaningful, and I’ll always be glad for the time we shared together, but things have changed, and I’ve moved on. Truly moved on. And I think it’s time you do the same.”

I try to soften the blow, to let her down easy. The last thing I want is to hurt her more than I already have. But she needs to understand that there’s no going back, needs to stop interfering with my life, showing up unannounced.

Ygra’s face crumples and for a moment, I feel a pang of sympathy. It can’t be easy, seeing me thriving without her, building a life that doesn’t include her.

As I’m about to reach for her hand, a glint of metal catches my eye. I freeze, zeroing in on Ygra’s hand.

No. It can’t be.

There on her finger sits my family’s heirloom engagement ring, the very one passed down for generations. The one my father gave my mother when he proposed.

The one my mother always told me was meant for my future wife, whoever she may be.

“What the fuck, Ygra?” I demand, anger reigniting in an instant. “Where did you get that ring?”

Ygra at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Your mother gave it to me. She believes we belong together, that I’m the right woman for you.”

I see red. The audacity, the nerve, the utter disrespect⁠—

“She had no right!” I bellow, startling Snuffles. “No fucking right to give that to you. To interfere in my life like this!”

Ygra crosses her arms defiantly. “She’s not the only one who thinks we should be together. Why do you think I’ve been walking Snuffles around town, wearing this ring? People support us, Thorak. They know we’re meant to be. Even that little human girl helping you out at the brewery basically said as much.”

My blood runs cold. Mariah. Oh no. If Ygra’s been flaunting that ring around Elderberry Falls, if she’s talked to Mariah...

I have to find her. Have to explain. Before it’s too late.

I whistle for Snuffles, who eagerly trots to my side. “This conversation is over,” I growl at Ygra. “Bring that ring back to my mother and don’t ever let me catch you wearing it again. We’re done, Ygra. You need to accept that, and move on.”

Without waiting for a reply, I turn on my heel and sprint back toward town, Snuffles bounding alongside me. Please, let me have time to make this right...

There was no sign of Mariah at the inn; Laurelle said Mariah had taken the afternoon off and was out meeting a friend. The bustling town square comes into view and my eyes dart frantically, trying to figure out where she might be.

I duck into the coffeeshop, the bookstore, searching for any sign of her.

There! As I leave the bookstore, I spot her chestnut waves across the square. Relief floods through me as I push my way through the throng of people outside enjoying the fine day, Snuffles close at my heels.

“Mariah!” I call out, my voice nearly drowned by the chatter and noise.

She turns, her green eyes widening as they meet mine. But instead of the warmth and affection I’ve grown accustomed to, they blaze with hurt and fury.

My steps falter. I haven’t seen her like this in years.

Even back then, even when I was at my worst…I don’t think I’ve ever seen her level me with such a hate-filled glare.

“Thorak.” Her tone is sharp as a blade. She stands rigid, arms crossed tight over her chest. “Come to make a fool of me in front of the whole town, have you?”

“What? No, I⁠—”

“Save it,” she snaps, her words laced with venom. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I saw Ygra’s ring. Your family’s ring. I know you two are back together.”

Murmurs ripple through the growing crowd of onlookers. My face burns with shame and frustration.

“It’s not what you think,” I plead, reaching for her. She jerks away from my touch as if burned. “My mother gave Ygra that ring without my knowledge. I had no idea until today. You have to believe me, Mariah. There’s nothing between Ygra and me anymore.”

“Funny, that’s not what everyone’s saying.” Her voice trembles, and unshed tears glisten in her eyes. “They’re all talking about your big reunion. About how perfect you two are for each other. Everybody but me knew what was going on. And like an idiot, I fell for your act. Fell for you.”

Each word cuts to the quick. “It wasn’t an act,” I rasp. “It’s real, Mariah. More real than anything.”

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Only pain. “You really had me going, didn’t you? The changed man. The kind, sweet orc who saw past my humanity.” Her voice breaks. “But it was all a lie. A ploy to win your investor’s approval.”

“No, I⁠—”

“Well, we can stop pretending now!” she cries, tears spilling down her cheeks. Mariah wrenches the emerald ring I gave her off of her finger, and tosses it at my feet. “The deal’s off. We’re off. I won’t be your little prop anymore for this twisted show we’re putting on for Kingsley. Go be with your gorgeous giantess bride and leave me alone.”

She turns to flee and panic seizes me. I lunge forward, grasping her wrist. “Mariah, wait⁠—”

“Let me go!” She wrenches free of my grip, green eyes blazing. “I mean it, Thorak. We’re done. I never want to see you again!”

As we stare at each other, another figure steps forward—Robert.

Oh no. It’s clear he has overheard everything. His eyes narrow as he looks first at Mariah and then me, and he shakes his head, disbelieving.

“I knew something was off about this, I just knew it,” he says, more to himself than to either of us. Mariah looks away, folding her arms across her chest.

“Robert, wait—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“No. I’m done. The deal is off, obviously. I will not be investing in your brewery. This has all been an enormous waste of my time.”

The condemnation in his eyes hits me like a sword. Blood drains from my face, as I stand rooted to the spot, helpless as all my dreams fall apart.

Robert shakes his head again, derisively. “I should have known not to trust an orc.”

He pivots on his foot and marches away before I can say a word in my defense. My gaze snaps back to Mariah, and I catch her eye for a long moment before she too turns and disappears into the crowd.

I stand paralyzed, as if staying still will stop time, give me a chance to make things right. Somehow fix this mess with Robert and the brewery. Somehow mend this rift with Mariah.

She’s gone. And it’s all my fault.

Desolation crashes over me in waves. What have I done? How could I let things spiral so far out of control?

Snuffles nudges my leg with a concerned snort, but I barely sense it. All I feel is the void opening up inside me, a black hole where my heart used to be.

I stoop to pick up Snuffles, and he huffs and settles into my arms. His warmth against my chest is a tiny comfort. I look down at him as he gazes up at me with soulful eyes.

“What just happened?” I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.

In the blink of an eye, the entire future I’ve imagined for myself is…gone.

23

MARIAH

The sun beats down on the back of my neck as I furiously yank weeds from the overgrown garden behind the inn. Thick vines tangle around my arms, their thorns piercing my skin, but I barely notice the pain.

It’s nothing compared to the ache in my chest, the gaping wound left by Thorak’s betrayal.

I toss a handful of weeds into the growing pile beside me, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. This garden has been neglected for far too long—much like my own heart.

But no more. I’m going to pour all my anger, all my hurt into making this space beautiful again.

I envision trellises dripping with fragrant moonflowers, their pale petals glowing in the twilight. Winding stone paths leading to hidden grottos where guests can steal a private moment. A fountain, with water that sparkles like starlight. It’ll be a place of magic and wonder, an escape from the harsh realities of the world.

Like the reality that people don’t change.

I grab my shovel and start attacking the hard dirt, churning the soil with a vengeance. I should have known better than to let my guard down with Thorak. He tormented me for years, made my life a living hell.

And I actually believed he was different now? That he cared about me?

I must be the biggest idiot in Elderberry Falls.

But even as I mentally berate myself, a traitorous little voice whispers in the back of my mind. Thorak’s wounded look when I confronted him in the town square yesterday. The way his voice cracked as he called after me.

Could it be that...

No. I shake my head vehemently, squashing that flicker of hope. I won’t let myself fall for his act again. Thorak was just using me, like he always has.

Whatever game he was playing, it’s over now.

I’m so consumed by my bitter thoughts that I don’t hear the heavy footsteps approaching until a familiar deep voice rumbles, “Mariah...”

My head snaps up and I find myself staring into Thorak’s solemn face. He stands at the edge of the garden, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

For a moment, we just gaze at each other, the air thick with tension. I’m acutely aware of the sweat trickling down my spine, the dirt streaking my arms, the loose strands of hair sticking to my flushed cheeks.

Part of me wants to scream at him to get the hell out of my garden.

But another part, the part I’ve been trying so hard to ignore, drinks in the sight of him like a woman dying of thirst. His wild dark hair, those intense metal-hued eyes, the bulging muscles straining against his shirt...

Damn him. Damn him for still affecting me this way, even after everything.

Thorak takes a tentative step forward, then seems to think better of it. He clears his throat.

“I...I don’t want to bother you. I just came to...” He trails off, searching for the right words.

I lean on my shovel and raise an eyebrow, trying to look unimpressed even as my pulse races. “To what? Gloat? Rub it in my face that you played me?”

He flinches as if I’ve struck him. “No, Mariah, I would never...” He takes a deep breath. “I came to pay the rest of the extermination bill.”

Thorak hands me an envelope and my stomach bottoms out. He’d promised to pay even if the deal with Kingsley fell through.

But I honestly just assumed he would leave me hanging after what happened yesterday. After all, the deal collapsed because of the conversation that I initiated. The things that I said.

Even if it was totally justified.

That tiny, traitorous voice sneaks back into my head, telling me that it’s unfair to take the money when I’m at least partially responsible for the deal disappearing, for Thorak losing his chance at his dreams.

“Thanks,” I say curtly, cutting off the little voice and taking the envelope.

Thorak probably just doesn’t want any loose threads. It’s cleaner this way. He’s paying me off so he doesn’t have to feel guilty and can go back to his life with Ygra without another thought about me.

I turn back to my gardening, expecting him to leave, but after a few moments I can sense his presence behind me still.

“Do you need anything else?” I snap, turning back around to face him. “I promise you’ve run out of ways to humiliate me.”

Thorak’s cheeks flush, but he stands his ground. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I meant what I said yesterday. What we had, it was real. I wasn’t faking or using you. I really do care about you. More than...more than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

I just stare at him, my emotions warring within me.

I want so badly to believe him, but the walls around my heart are thick and high. He hurt me too many times in the past for me to let him scale them again.

Thorak takes another step closer, his gaze imploring. “I’ve given you every reason to doubt me. I was an ass in high school, and I’ll regret how I treated you until the day I die. But I’m not that orc anymore, Mariah. What happened with Ygra was awful and I should’ve told her about you the moment she showed back up. I’ll regret that forever, too.”

He reaches out a hand as if to touch my cheek, but stops himself.

“I get it if you can’t forgive me. If you can’t trust me. I’m not asking for another chance. I just...” His voice cracks with emotion. “I just need you to know that it was real for me. Every moment, every kiss, every time I held you in my arms. It was the realest thing I’ve ever known.”

I swallow hard and turn my face away. I can’t let him see how much his words affect me. How much I long to throw myself into his embrace and never let go.

But I can’t. I won’t.

I have to protect myself.

“Thorak, I...” My voice wavers. “I can’t do this. Not now. Maybe not ever. Please, just...just go.”

For a long moment he just looks at me, a maelstrom of emotions plain on his face. Then he nods slowly. He turns and walks away, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat.

I watch him go until he disappears from sight, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Later that day, I’m mindlessly wiping down the front desk, lost in thought, when I hear a throat clear.

I look up into Kingsley’s stone-cold face and feel myself blanch. It’s like all of the work this town had done on him over the past week and a half was wiped out in an instant yesterday. He’s back to being a sour businessman without a speck of warmth in him.

“Checking out,” he tells me emotionlessly.

My eyebrows raise. “Already? I thought you were staying for at least two weeks.”

Kingsley’s lips press into a thin line. “Plans change. I have no reason to stay in this...place any longer than necessary.”

The unspoken “since the deal with Thorak fell through” hangs heavy in the air between us. I glance down at the desk, where Thorak’s check for Mystic Pest is still sitting.

Gods, that little voice is back, reminding me that this whole fake engagement was my idea in the first place. I got my end of the deal; the exterminators finish tomorrow and I won’t have to worry about paying them. The inn is going to be fine.

I think back to all the times Thorak talked about his vision for the brewery, how he wanted it to be a place that brought the magical and non-magical communities together. A symbol of unity and understanding.

And regardless of what happened between us…if there’s even a small chance that his vision for his brewery is real, I want the business to succeed.

I can’t let Kingsley leave without trying to salvage this deal.

Decision made, I come around the desk, startling him.

“Robert, wait.” I plant myself in his path, holding up my hands. “Please. I need to talk to you before you go.”

He arches an imperious brow. “I think you and your ‘fiancé’ have done quite enough talking, don’t you? Now if you’ll excuse me⁠—”

“Just hear me out,” I plead. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

Kingsley heaves a put-upon sigh, but to my relief, he sets down his luggage. “Fine. You have five minutes. Start talking.”

I meet Kingsley’s steely gaze head-on. “As you know now, Thorak and I were never actually engaged. It was all a ruse, a ploy to win your investment.”

Kingsley’s eyes narrow, his face darkening with displeasure. “I see. So you thought it appropriate to deceive me, to manipulate me for financial gain?”

“No, that’s not—” I break off, shaking my head. “We shouldn’t have misled you. And I’m sorry for that, truly. But Robert, the only reason we even considered such a scheme was because of your own prejudices.”

“Excuse me?” Kingsley sputters indignantly.

“You made it very clear that you wanted to see human involvement in Thorak’s business,” I press on, undeterred. “That you didn’t believe an orc could be a capable businessman on his own merits. Isn’t that right?”

Kingsley opens his mouth, clearly prepared to argue, but then something shifts in his expression. A flicker of realization, perhaps even a touch of chagrin. “I...suppose I may have implied as much, yes.”

I soften my tone, sensing an opening. “And now? After spending time here, getting to know Thorak and his vision...what do you think of him as a business owner?”

Kingsley is silent for a moment, considering. “I must admit, I’ve been quite impressed with what he’s managed to build,” he acknowledges grudgingly. “His brewery shows immense promise. The only thing giving me doubts is this whole fake engagement scheme.”

“Robert, that was on me,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. “I’m the one who proposed the idea to Thorak. I needed money to handle an unexpected crisis here at the inn, and I...I took advantage of his need. Of his dream. If it wasn’t for my selfishness, Thorak would’ve come clean to you from the start.”

I blink back the sudden sting of tears.

“Please, don’t blame Thorak for any of this,” I continue. “The fault is mine, and mine alone. He’s a hard worker who deserves a chance to prove himself. To make his vision a reality.”

Kingsley regards me with a frown, and for a moment, I’m certain he’s going to walk away, my pleas falling on deaf ears.

But then, to my shock, he nods slowly.

“Alright, Ms. Parker. You’ve given me much to consider.” He picks up his luggage once more, but pauses. “I’ll be in touch with Thorak directly. To discuss…potential next steps.”

With that, he strides past me and out the door, leaving me standing alone in the lobby, my pulse racing and my emotions a tangled mess.

24

THORAK

Islump back against the couch cushions, surveying the wreckage of my usually tidy living room. Empty beer bottles litter the coffee table, mingling with days-old takeout containers. Clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor. It’s like a tornado tore through here, leaving chaos in its wake.

I suppose that tornado is me.

Snuffles snorts softly beside me, his tiny snout twitching as he burrows deeper into my side. I stroke his glossy fur absentmindedly, my chest constricting as I think back on the events that led me here.

Mariah’s face flashes through my mind—the hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she confronted me in the town square last week, in front of everyone. The way her voice cracked as she ended things between us.

I rake a hand through my overgrown beard, wincing as my fingers catch on tangles. I haven’t had the energy or motivation to groom myself since that day.

It’s like a piece of me is missing, carved out and left hollow.

Snuffles lifts his head, his bright eyes meeting mine. He lets out a gentle squeal, nudging my hand with his snout.

His message is clear: time to stop your moping, you big green lug.

“You’re right, boy,” I sigh, my voice gravelly from disuse. “It’s time for me to get my shit together.”

I heave myself up off the couch, Snuffles hopping down beside me. I start with the dishes, piling them into the sink and turning on the faucet. As the hot water runs over my hands, the fog in my mind starts to clear, like cobwebs being swept away.

Next, I tackle the living room, scooping up dirty laundry and tossing it into a basket. I right an overturned lamp, straighten the crooked wall hangings.

Slowly but surely, my space begins to look like a home again instead of a disaster zone.

Snuffles trots over to me, a discarded sock dangling from his mouth. I chuckle as I bend to take it from him, scratching behind his ears.

“Thanks for the help, buddy,” I murmur. “And for sticking by me through all of this.”

He snorts in response, butting his head against my hand.

I toss my grungy t-shirt in the hamper and pull on a freshly laundered henley, the clean cotton a welcome change. Then, I stride toward the bathroom to clean myself up. The beard trimmer hums as I run it over my overgrown scruff, the vibrations oddly soothing against my skin. Tufts of dark hair rain down into the sink. I stare at my reflection, meeting my own eyes.

There’s a clarity there I haven’t seen in days.

And I no longer look like a heartbroken slob, even if I still feel like one inside.

It’s a start.

With a sigh, I realize what I must do next.

It’s time to go finally deal with my parents. I can’t undo the damage that’s already been done, but I’ll be damned if I let my family’s prejudices dictate my future any longer. I need to have an honest conversation with them, lay it all out on the table.

For Mariah, for myself, for any chance we might still have together—I have to try.

I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not without a fight.

The entrance to my parents’ home looms before me, the roughly hewn stone archway suddenly far more foreboding than welcoming. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, then cross the threshold into the cavernous foyer.

“Thorak!” Ma’s voice rings out, her footsteps echoing off the high ceilings as she hurries towards me. “What a nice surpri⁠—”

She stops short, her eyes widening as she takes in my expression. I’m in no mood for pleasantries. Da emerges from the sitting room, his posture rigid. There’s a wariness in both their faces that sets my teeth on edge.

“Son.” Da inclines his head stiffly. “To what do we owe the...pleasure?”

My gaze darts between them, noting the way Ma’s hands twist nervously and how Da’s brow furrows even deeper than usual. Realization strikes me like a blow to the stomach.

“Ygra’s been here, hasn’t she?” My voice comes out low and accusing. “Returning the ring you never should’ve given her.”

Ma opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand, cutting her off.

“I’ll tell you what I told Ygra. She and I? We’re done. Over. And I have zero interest in changing that, no matter what schemes you two cook up with her.”

I start to pace, my agitation growing with each step.

“Meddling in my love life, in my relationship with Ygra, was completely out of line. Especially since you had just heard me say that I was engaged to Mariah.” I jab a finger at them for emphasis. “I’m an adult in control of my own life. I’ll be with who I want to be with. And right now? That’s not Ygra. It’s Mariah.”

Ma’s eyes widen at the mention of Mariah, while Da’s face hardens into a scowl. Their disapproval practically radiates off them in waves.

Da steps forward, his expression stern. “You can’t be serious, son. What would this mean for our family, for our legacy? Don’t ruin everything over a human.”

His words are like a slap in the face, a harsh reminder of the lingering prejudice against humans that still festers within orcish culture. A history of forced exile and oppression have left deep scars, and even now, in a town as progressive as Elderberry Falls, those old wounds still ache.

Ma reaches out to me, her eyes shining with tears. “Even if you don’t think Ygra is right for you, surely we can find you an orc woman who would be a better fit. Someone who shares our values and traditions. Please don’t marry that woman.”

I can see the pain in her eyes, the desperation to cling to the old ways. But I know that I can’t live a lie, can’t pretend to be someone I’m not just to please them.

“I’m not marrying her. It was a fake engagement in order to help secure a distribution deal with a human investor,” I tell Ma.

Relief washes over my parents’ faces. It only fuels my anger.

“But here’s the thing,” I growl, my voice rising with each word, “fake engagement or not, I’ve fallen for Mariah. Hard. And what you did, interfering with Ygra, has fucked everything up. Mariah broke things off with me, and I lost the distribution deal. All because you couldn’t respect my choices.”

My chest heaves with the force of my emotions, and I have to pause to collect myself. I know I’m not entirely blameless here.

“I take responsibility for not having this conversation with you sooner,” I admit, my voice gruff. “In fact, I never should have had a fake engagement to begin with, it was a shitty way of doing business. But that doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“We were only looking out for you, Thorak,” Da interjects, scowling. “The decisions you’ve been making over the past few years—well, they just don’t make any sense.”

I growl at him, my frustration boiling over, years of pent-up resentment spilling out in a torrent of words. “They don’t make sense to you because you haven’t tried to see anything from my perspective. You don’t like that I left the family business to start my own brewery. You don’t approve of me wanting to distribute my brews to human lands. And you can’t stand the thought of me being with a human woman.”

My hands clench into fists at my sides, the muscles in my arms tensing beneath my green skin. Anger courses through my veins, hot and potent, but beneath it all, there’s a deep well of hurt and betrayal.

“But guess what?” I continue. “It’s my life, and I get to make my own choices. And I am done being polite about it for the sake of respecting you when it’s clear you have no respect for me. You say that me being with Mariah would ruin our family? Mariah makes me happier than anything I’ve ever experienced. You are the ones ruining our family.”

Ma is quietly weeping now, her shoulders shaking with each sob. Da remains stone-faced, but I can see the flicker of pain in his eyes, the realization that his actions have driven a wedge between us.

“I love you both,” I say, my voice softening slightly. “But things need to change between us. You have to learn to let me live my own life. And it’s time you rethink your feelings towards humans. Until you can do that, I think it’s best if we take some space from each other.”

With that, I stride out of my parents’ home, both relief and sadness washing over me. The weight of years of expectations and disapproval lifts from my shoulders, but in its place is a hollow ache, the pain of knowing that I may have just severed the bond with my family.

I slowly make my way home, lost in thought.

I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made the right choice. I hope that Ma and Da will come around eventually, that they’ll accept me for who I am and the choices I’ve made. I hope they’ll learn to be more open-minded about other species, too.

Things are very likely too late for Mariah and me, and I’m going to continue giving her the space she clearly needs. But with all of my truth finally out in the open with my parents, we now have a chance to get to a more honest place as a family.

Suddenly, my phone begins to ring, startling me out of my thoughts.

I pull it from my pocket, my heart pounding as I see Robert’s name on the caller ID.

What could he want?

With a deep breath, I answer the call, steeling myself for whatever comes next.

25

MARIAH

Asprawling skyline of towering skyscrapers looms before me as I inch toward the city where my parents live, stuck in rush-hour traffic on the freeway.

The glass and chrome and congested, car-filled highways are a stark contrast to the quaint, old-fashioned charm of Elderberry Falls. Car horns blare, and someone in a fancy sports car cuts me off in my lane, as if switching from his lane to mine will get him where he’s going any faster.

It’s jarring every time I come back here, even though this is the world I once called home.

Finally, I turn onto my parents’ tree-lined street, the neighborhood both familiar and foreign. The houses here are a patchwork of brick and siding, tidy lawns and chain-link fences. My parents moved here after they left Elderberry Falls, and though it’s not the same human neighborhood where I spent my first few years of life, it’s similar enough to make me nostalgic.

I pull into my parents’ driveway, their old minivan still parked in its usual spot. The front door swings open before I’ve even cut the engine, and there they are.

Mom and Dad. The love and joy to see me on their faces almost makes me start crying then and there, still sitting behind the wheel.

It’s been a little over a month since everything happened with Thorak, and I haven’t seen him or heard from him since. That was what I wanted, I know. I told him to get out my life. I told him I couldn’t trust him and didn’t want to be with him.

And yet…every time the door to the inn opens up, I half-expect to see his huge frame crossing the threshold. Every time I walk through town or by his brewery, I brace myself to hear him say “Mariah” in that low, rumbling growl of his.

And every night when I close my eyes, laying in that bed where he worshiped my body for hours on end, I feel the phantom touch of his mouth on my skin, his tusks pressing into me.

I shake myself out of my memories and focus on my mom rushing down the steps, her arms outstretched. I was overdue for a visit and I’ve desperately needed this break.

Experiencing some unconditional, simple, impossible-to-doubt love might shake me out of this funk I’ve been in ever since I told Thorak to go.

I gather my things from the backseat of the car and turn to my mom.

“Mariah, sweetheart,” she murmurs, enfolding me in a warm embrace. I breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume. “We’ve missed you so much.”

Dad ambles over, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “Hey, kiddo. You holding up okay?”

I force a smile, not quite ready to share all the details of my recent heartbreak. My parents didn’t ask a ton of questions when I sprung a last-minute visit on them, but I’m sure they know something is up.

“I’m...I’m hanging in there. Just needed a change of scenery, you know?”

They exchange a knowing glance, and I feel a pang of guilt for not sharing more, being more in touch. But as we head inside, Mom’s arm draped around my shoulders, I’m comforted by the support they offer me nonetheless.

As I settle into their guest room, I wonder about the life I might have had if we’d never left this city behind. Would I be a different person entirely? Or would the call of magic have found me just the same?

I flop down on the bed, my thoughts drifting back to Elderberry Falls, to the inn that’s become my true home...and to Thorak.

The memory of his gentle touch, his rumbling laughter, sends a bittersweet ache through my chest.

Sighing, I close my eyes and try to banish thoughts of Thorak. That’s in the past. I need to move on. Words I’ve repeated to myself so many times…

Maybe with some distance from Elderberry Falls, I’ll finally be able to act on them.

Dinner on my first night with my parents felt a little stilted, the easy rhythms of my family taking some time to return. It’d been more than a year since I’d last come to see them, and my parents don’t make it to Elderberry Falls often either, the town a painful reminder to them of a tough time in their lives when they had to rely on Great-Aunt Ida just to put a roof over my head.

I get it, but sometimes it still hurts.

But waking up to the smell of my mom’s pancakes cooking—apple and cinnamon, my favorite kind—melts something in me, and I give my mom a grateful smile as I walk into the kitchen.

“What are your plans for the day?” she asks me as she plops way too many pancakes onto my plate.

“Mmmm,” I mumble around a huge bite of pancake, then swallow. “No plans. And I don’t want you to have to change your schedule for me. Can I just come along and help if you have any errands?”

Which is how I find myself trailing after my mother through the fluorescent-lit aisles of the grocery store. Another part of the human world that is so different from Elderberry Falls.

Our town grocery is small and cozy, with a mishmash of human and magical brands of food, catering to cuisines for monsters and people of all shapes and sizes. The endless rows of canned vegetables and soup here, all so uniform in size and color, make my eyes ache.

As we round the corner into the beverage section, a familiar logo catches my eye, stopping me in my tracks.

My heart stutters as I reach for the bottle, my fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the cool glass.

Orc’s Anvil Brewing Co.

He must’ve gotten the distribution deal after all.

“Mariah?” My mother’s gentle voice pulls me from my reverie, and I glance up to find her watching me with a concerned look in her eyes. “Is everything alright?”

I swallow hard, the weight of my emotions rising in my throat.

“This...this is Thorak’s beer,” I manage, my voice thick. “My…I mean, Thorak is…”

“Oh, honey.” My mother’s hand finds mine, her touch warm and comforting. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

And just like that, surrounded by rows of bottles of beer and cans of cola and seltzer, the whole story comes pouring out of me—the fake relationship, the pixie dust mite infestation, the unexpected romance that blossomed between us.

I tell her about the misunderstandings and the heartbreak, my voice shaking as I recount the painful confrontation in the town square.

Through it all, my mother listens with a sympathetic ear, her eyes shining with compassion. When I finally fall silent, she squeezes my hand gently.

“It sounds like you and Thorak have something very special,” she says softly. “Something worth fighting for.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say, turning to grab our grocery cart, wanting to put the Orc’s Anvil logo in my rearview. “You said we needed cereal right?”

“Mariah.” Mom puts a gentle but firm hand on the cart handle, slowing me down. “You clearly still have feelings for this orc. And to me, it sounds like you didn’t give him a chance to really explain himself.”

A flicker of hope sparks deep within me, even as the doubts continue to swirl through my mind. “But what if it’s too late?” I whisper. “What if I’ve ruined everything?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” My mother’s smile is soft and knowing. “It’s never too late for true love. If you really care for Thorak, if you believe in the connection you share, then you owe it to yourself to give it another chance.”

I nod slowly, my gaze drifting back to the row of beers. The sign of Thorak’s triumph fills me with a bittersweet sense of pride. He’s achieved his dream without me after all.

But my mother could be right.

I cast my mind back to that day in the square, as painful as the memory is, and to the conversation we had when he visited me at the inn. Thorak was trying to tell me that it was a misunderstanding. I honestly didn’t give him a chance to explain.

Did I jump to conclusions too quickly? Was I too quick to cast him as a villain again in my mind?

I take a grounding breath. “You’re right,” I say, meeting my mother’s gaze. “I think...I think I’m ready to give Thorak another chance, if he’s willing to still do that. To really listen to him, and what he has to say.”

My mother’s smile widens. “That’s my girl,” she murmurs, pulling me into a warm embrace.

In my mother’s arms, a sense of calm wash over me. Maybe not everything is lost.

With a small smile, I tuck the bottle of Orc’s Anvil ale into our cart, already imagining the look on Thorak’s face when I tell him that I bought his brew in my parents’ local grocery store.

But first, I somehow need to get up the courage to tell him how I still feel.

A week later, Ecco and I make our way along a winding, mossy trail in the forest. I just returned last night from my trip to see my parents, and time outdoors with my best friend is exactly what I needed to soothe my nerves about being back in town.

“So then, Mr. Grimsby accidentally used a shrinking potion instead of his usual hair tonic,” Ecco giggles, her blue hair shimmering in the dappled light. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when he realized he was only two feet tall!”

I laugh, some of the tension easing from my shoulders as we continue our trek through the enchanted woods.

As we round a bend in the trail, Ecco’s voice takes on a conspiratorial tone. “Oh, did you hear? Our ten-year high school reunion date got confirmed, it’s definitely happening later this month. Everyone’s buzzing about it, wondering who’ll show up and what they’ve been up to…”

Ecco’s voice trails off and I can easily guess that she’s thinking about more than a few ex-boyfriends who might be on that list.

My mind immediately jumps to Thorak. It’s been weeks since our confrontation in the town square, weeks since I’ve seen or spoken to him.

After talking it through with my mother, I know it’s up to me to reach out. I’d like to figure out how to go about it, but a cowardly side of myself has been hesitating.

“Earth to Mariah,” Ecco teases, waving a hand in front of my face. “Where’d you go just now?”

I shake my head, a flush creeping up my neck. “Sorry, I was just...thinking.”

Ecco’s violet eyes narrow, a knowing look crossing her features. “About a certain orc, perhaps?”

I sigh, my shoulders slumping as we come to a stop beside a gurgling stream, settling ourselves down on a few well-placed boulders to rest our legs. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows you as well as I do,” Ecco replies, her voice gentle. “What’s on your mind?”

The kindness in her voice gives me all the permission I need, and I open up to her about my uncertainty about how things ended between us. I tell her about my mother’s advice, about the growing realization that I’m ready to give Thorak a real chance to explain.

“But how can I face him again, after everything that’s happened?” I ask, my voice trembling. “I was so quick to assume the worst, so ready to believe that he’d betrayed me. What if he can’t forgive me for that?”

Ecco takes my hands in hers, her touch warm and comforting. “Mariah, listen to me. You are one of the strongest, bravest women I know. If anyone can find a way to make things right with Thorak, it’s you.”

She smiles then, a mischievous glint in her eye. “And what better opportunity than the high school reunion? Everyone will be reconnecting with old flames. And I’ll be right there with you, in case you need backup.”

I bite my lip, considering her words. The thought of seeing Thorak again sends a thrill of nervous anticipation through me.

“You really think I should go?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I think you owe it to yourself to try,” Ecco replies, her tone firm but kind. “You deserve happiness, Mariah. Don’t let fear and things that happened in your past hold you back from claiming it.”

I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of resolve settle over me. “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll go to the reunion and talk to Thorak.”

Ecco lets out a squeal of delight, pulling me into a fierce hug. “That’s my girl! Oh, this is going to be so romantic—like something straight out of a fairy tale! We have to go shopping for something new to wear! And we should plan a grand entrance to the event, I bet I can talk to the organizers…”

I laugh, enjoying Ecco’s increasingly absurd romantic plans for my happily-ever-after. Ecco herself has dealt with heartbreak after heartbreak, and it’s amazing how she’s been able to hold on to her love for love, to retain her trust in real romance. Despite all the times she’s been hurt, she still opens herself up to the possibility of finding real love.

If she can be that brave, so can I.

26

MARIAH

Istand outside the grand old Rosewood mansion at the edge of Elderberry Falls, taking in the glowing enchanted lanterns floating around the venue for our ten-year high school reunion. The imposing stone facade is draped in shimmering curtains of magical mist, and the purposeful draping of water-drops reflect and refract the light so that the entire place sparkles, giving it an ethereal, dreamlike quality.

Next to me, Ecco looks radiant in a shimmering sea-blue gown that hugs her curves and ripples like ocean waves with every movement. Delicate mother-of-pearl jewelry at her throat and wrists accentuates her siren heritage. She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, no doubt sensing my nervous energy.

“You’ve got this, Mariah,” she says with a warm smile. “You look drop-dead gorgeous. Thorak won’t know what hit him.”

I glance down at my own dress—a deep crimson slip that falls to my ankles, with a daring slit up one side. Gold bangles jingle at my wrists. I know it accentuates my curves and brings out the luster of my dark hair. But I also feel exposed; I so rarely dress up like this.

Will everyone know that I’m here for Thorak? Does the whole town know what happened between us by now?

“Thanks, Ec. I couldn’t do this without you by my side,” I reply, returning the squeeze of her hand. I breathe deeply, steeling myself. “Okay, let’s do this.”

We ascend the marble steps and step through the grand double doors into the ballroom. The high-ceilinged space is a kaleidoscope of magical beings. Pixies dart about trailing glittering dust. A group of dapper werewolves in tailored suits laugh uproariously by the bar, chatting with a group of vampires in sleek black who sip blood-red cocktails. Enchanted instruments play themselves on a raised stage, weaving a lively, pulsing melody.

My eyes scan the room, searching for a familiar hulking green form. My stomach flutters with nerves and anticipation. Then a voice breaks through my reverie.

“Mariah Parker. I was hoping I’d run into you tonight.”

I turn to see Zara Nightshade, resplendent in a flowing black gown, her raven hair styled in an elegant updo. She’s part of one of the wealthiest shadow mage families in the magical world—and she was one of my chief tormentors back in high school.

I tense, bracing myself for a backhanded compliment or veiled insult. Old habits die hard.

But Zara’s eyes are soft, almost...remorseful? She takes a step closer.

“I wanted to apologize, Mariah. For the way I treated you. Having this reunion made me think back on who I was back then, and…well, I was insecure and cruel, and I took it out on you.” She stops and takes a deep breath. “It was wrong of me. I’ve done a lot of growing since graduation, and I wanted you to know...I’m sorry.”

I blink in surprise, taken aback by the sincerity in her voice.

A lump forms in my throat. A small piece of me wants to lash out, refuse her apology, give her even a fraction of the pain her bullying caused me. But I see the genuine regret on her face.

“I...thank you, Zara,” I manage. “I really appreciate you saying that. It means a lot to me.”

She nods, fluttering her eyelashes. Is she…holding back tears? “You’ve done well for yourself, with the Moonflower Inn. I’m happy for you.”

We share a moment of companionable silence, a sort of unspoken understanding passing between us. I marvel at how much people can change.

Then Ecco returns to my side, two glasses of shimmering rose-gold liquid in hand. “Fairy Fizz,” she says with a wink. “Liquid courage.”

I accept the delicate crystal flute gratefully and take a fortifying sip. The magical champagne buzzes pleasantly on my tongue, the bubbles going straight to my head, making me pleasantly relaxed. I turn to compliment Ecco again on her stunning dress when suddenly, my gaze snags on a familiar figure across the room.

Thorak.

The floor bottoms out beneath me.

He’s devastatingly handsome in a well-cut charcoal suit that strains slightly across his broad shoulders. His green skin looks especially rich in the enchanted lighting. My eyes trace the strong lines of his jaw, the sensual curve of his lips and sharp, imposing points of his tusks.

Memories of our passionate night together flood through me, sending heat coursing under my skin.

Thorak’s deep in conversation with some former classmates, but he looks tense. Agitated. As if sensing my gaze, his head suddenly swivels in my direction.

Our eyes lock and there’s an instant spark, that smoldering intensity that’s always simmered between us.

Then I remember how things ended. The hurt, the broken trust. All of the doubt rushes back in.

Ecco follows my gaze, her brow creasing in concern. “Hey, we can leave if you want. You don’t have to do this tonight.”

I tear my eyes away from Thorak to give her a wan smile. “No, I’m okay. I need to do this. For myself, if nothing else.”

I down the rest of my Fairy Fizz in one gulp, the effervescent tingle giving me a burst of confidence. I take a step forward, then another, my heels clicking on the parquet floor. As I move through the crowd, I keep my eyes fixed on Thorak.

With every step, the past and the present collide. Old hurts and new hopes warring within me. So much has changed in the span of a decade. I know we’ve changed too.

My palms grow clammy as I make my way across the room, a thin sheen of sweat forming on the back of my neck. It’s not just the nerves; it’s the way Thorak looks tonight, the way he’s looking at me.

His eyes haven’t left mine, and they burn with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

I’m just a few feet away when the rest of Thorak’s group notices my approach. Their conversation falters as they turn to look my way. For a moment, the world seems to fall away, and it’s just the two of us, suspended in this charged moment.

Then, Thorak excuses himself from the group and takes a step towards me. “Mariah,” he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. “You look...incredible.”

I glance down at my dress, smoothing the red fabric over my hips nervously. “Thanks,” I manage, my mouth suddenly dry. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Thorak chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that warms me from the inside out. “I try.” His smile wanes uncertainly, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his usually stoic demeanor. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Me too,” I admit, surprising myself with my honesty. “It’s been...a lot, seeing everyone again. Realizing how much has changed.”

Thorak nods, his gaze never leaving mine. “I know what you mean. It’s like looking at the past through a new lens. Seeing things differently.”

We stand there for a moment, the weight of our history hanging between us. The hurt, the misunderstandings, the missed chances.

My heart thuds against my ribcage as I gather my courage. “Thorak, I...I think we need to talk. About everything that’s happened. About...us.”

Thorak’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t look away. “I think you’re right,” he says softly. “Do you...maybe want to go somewhere a bit more private?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

Thorak offers me his arm and I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow, the warmth of his skin radiating through his suit jacket. Together, we make our way towards the French doors that lead out onto a balcony, away from the noise and the crowd.

We step out into the cool night air and I breathe in deeply, steeling myself for the conversation to come. The balcony is a hidden oasis tucked away from the revelry of the reunion. Twinkling star-shaped lanterns are strung overhead, casting a warm glow over the space. The air is fragrant with the scent of night-blooming jasmine from the enchanted gardens below. In the distance, I can hear the gentle strains of music floating out from the ballroom.

But here, it’s quiet. Private. Intimate.

Thorak and I move to the far end of the balcony, away from the doors. He leans against the railing, his large frame silhouetted against the starry sky. I stand beside him, close enough to feel the heat emanating from his body.

For a moment, we simply stand there, looking out over the gardens. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unsaid things.

I take a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs and calming me.

“Thorak, I...” I begin, my voice soft but steady. “I have to apologize. For not trusting you about Ygra. For judging you without hearing you out first.”

Thorak turns to face me, his bright eyes searching mine. “Mariah, you don’t have to⁠—”

“No, please. Let me say this,” I interrupt gently. “I’ve been so unfair to you. You’ve shown me, time and again, that you’ve changed. That you’re not the same person you were when we were kids. And instead of seeing that, I let my own insecurities cloud my judgment.”

Thorak’s expression softens, surprise and a glimmer of hope flickering across his face. “I understand why you felt that way,” he says quietly. “I know I hurt you in the past. I don’t blame you for being wary.”

I shake my head, shame burning hot inside of me. “That’s no excuse. You deserved better from me. After everything that happened between us, I should have given you a chance to explain about Ygra. But I let my fear and my pride get in the way.”

Thorak turns toward me now, opening his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off, grabbing his large hand in mine.

Sparks ignite in my veins at his touch again after all this time.

“I’m sorry, Thorak,” I continue, moving closer to him. “For everything. I’ve spent the past weeks living through heartbreak that I think I’ve inflicted on myself. I can’t stop thinking about you and about what we had. How perfect it felt while it was happening. How incredible you made me feel and how right it seemed. I realized that…I was falling in love with you. And I fucked it all up.”

I take another deep breath, fighting against the prick of tears behind my eyes.

“Can you...can you forgive me?” I ask.

27

THORAK

The low, romantic lights of the balcony dance across Mariah’s face as she gazes up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Every muscle tenses as I drink in her words—an apology, a confession, a plea for forgiveness and a second chance.

Emotions crash over me like storm-tossed waves. Relief, joy, hope, all tinged with the lingering ache of our month apart.

How many nights did I lie awake, torturing myself with thoughts of what could have been? How often did I replay our short but passionate romance in my mind, craving her touch, her scent, her soft sighs of pleasure?

And now here she stands, more beautiful than ever, laying her heart bare before me.

My eyes rake over her, taking in the way her chestnut hair tumbles around her shoulders, the flush of her fair skin. Desire pulses through my veins, hot and insistent.

I want to crush her against me, claim her lips in a searing kiss, trail my hands over every delicious curve. But I hold back, knowing we have wounds to mend first.

“Mariah,” I rumble, my voice raw with emotion. “This past month has been agony without you. I’ve replayed that day in the square a thousand times, wishing I had done things differently. I should have been more firm with both my parents and Ygra from the start. Everyone in town should’ve known that you were my woman and that it was real. I let my pride get in the way, and it nearly cost me everything.”

I step closer, my large frame towering over her petite one. She tilts her head back to hold my gaze, and the vulnerability in her expression makes my chest ache.

“I love you, Mariah,” I confess, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I think I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you again, standing in your inn with pixie dust in your hair. It consumes me. It controls me. And I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives proving myself worthy of your trust, if you’ll let me.”

Happiness flares in her eyes, bright and fierce, and an answering warmth spreads through my chest. This is more than reconciliation—it’s a new beginning, a chance to build something real and lasting together.

“Oh, Thorak,” she breathes, a radiant smile blooming across her face. “I love you too. And I promise, no more assumptions, no more running away. I’m yours.”

The last of my restraint shatters. I reach for her, my hands spanning her waist as I draw her flush against my body. She comes willingly, melting into my embrace as if she was made to fit there.

Unable to hold back any longer, I capture Mariah’s lips in a heated kiss. A groan rumbles up my throat as I taste her sweetness, feel the silk of her skin under my hands. Every nerve ending ignites with the rightness of it.

Her small hands fist in my suit jacket, tugging me impossibly closer as she matches my fervor. I nip at her luscious bottom lip and she opens for me with a breathy moan that shoots straight to my core.

I walk us backwards until Mariah’s back meets the ivy-covered wall of the balcony. Never breaking our frantic kiss, I hoist her up, encouraging her legs to wrap around my waist. She does so without hesitation, rolling her hips against the evidence of my arousal.

The layers of fabric separating our heated flesh are maddening. I want to tear through them, to claim her, mark her as mine for all the world to see.

“Thorak,” Mariah gasps as I trail open-mouthed kisses along the slender column of her neck. “Please...I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. I need you.”

I pull back from her, glancing back at the balcony door a few feet away. We’re very secluded out here, and the entrance to the balcony is not near the main part of the hall. But still…

“You’re not worried that someone might see?” I ask Mariah, the risk of being caught sending a delicious, forbidden thrill through me.

Mariah looks up at me wantonly through her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed, lips parted and glistening from our kisses. “Let them.”

A low, primal growl bursts out of my throat, I set her down just long enough to fumble with the zipper of my pants. Mariah shimmies her dress up her hips, revealing her white cotton panties. I rip through the fabric with a satisfying shred, leaving her bare and glistening. The intoxicating scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, stoking the flames of my desire.

“We don’t have any lube,” I warn her.

“I don’t care,” she whimpers. “I want to feel you, all of you, Thorak. I need this so badly.”

I hike her back up, bracing her against the wall as I notch myself at her entrance. Our eyes lock, the intensity of our shared gaze a silent promise, an unbreakable vow. Then, I slowly push into her heat, pausing as I go to make sure she’s comfortable.

A ragged groan escapes my throat as Mariah’s tight warmth envelops me, inch by delicious inch. She arches against me, fingernails digging into my shoulders, head tipped back in ecstasy. The sensation is indescribable, like coming home after an eternity adrift.

“Thorak,” she keens softly, and the sound of my name on her lips nearly undoes me.

I still, finally buried to the hilt, savoring the exquisite sensation of our bodies joined so intimately. Mariah hooks her ankles around my lower back, pulling me impossibly deeper.

Slowly, reverently, I begin to move. Long, deep strokes that make her shudder and clench around me. I set a relentless pace, driven by my inner monster’s need to possess her, to brand myself on her very soul.

Mariah clings to my shoulders, meeting each dominating thrust with a sinuous roll of her hips. Our mouths crash together in a mess of tongues and teeth, swallowing each other’s moans and whimpers. The rough stone of the mansion bites into my palms as I brace myself above her, but I relish the sting. It grounds me in the moment, reminding me that this is real, that Mariah is really mine.

Our pace grows more frantic, our bodies moving together in an instinctual rhythm. Mariah’s moans escalate, breathy and high-pitched, spurring me on. She starts to flutter around my length, her pleasure building to a crest.

I snake a hand between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. I rub in firm, fast circles, determined to bring her over the edge with me.

Mariah shatters with a keening cry, her head thrown back in abandon as ecstasy overtakes her. The sight of her, lost to the bliss I’ve given her, is my undoing. With a guttural roar, I spill myself deep inside her welcoming body.

We remain locked together, chests heaving, pulses gradually slowing as we float down from our shared ecstasy. Eventually, I carefully set Mariah back on her feet, making sure her wobbly legs can support her before I release my grip on her waist.

She leans into my chest with a contented sigh, nuzzling her nose against me.

“That was...intense,” she giggles.

“You’re telling me,” I chuckle, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “I’ll never look at a balcony the same way again.”

A thought occurs to me then, chasing away the haze of afterglow. I capture Mariah’s hands in mine and rub my thumbs over her knuckles, mustering my courage. It’s now or never.

“Mariah,” I begin, my voice rough with emotion, “I meant what I said. I love you, and I want to be with you, for real this time. No more pretending, no more hiding. Will you...will you be my girlfriend? My partner?”

Mariah’s eyes widen, her breath hitching in her throat. For a heart-stopping moment, I think she might refuse, might push me away again.

But then a brilliant, beautiful smile breaks across her face, practically lighting up the evening sky with its glow.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, Thorak, I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.”

Joy explodes through me like a firework, filling me with light and color. I crush Mariah to me in an exuberant embrace, peppering her face and hair with kisses.

She laughs, the sound like music to my ears, and winds her arms around my neck to keep me close. She leans in, her warm breath tickling my ear.

“Let’s go back to the reunion, hand in hand,” she suggests, a playful lilt to her voice. “Show everyone that we’re the real deal now.”

The thought of walking back into the crowded ballroom with Mariah at my side, proudly declaring our love to the world, makes the possessive side of me want to growl with pleasure.

I want nothing more than to show everyone that this gorgeous, amazing woman is mine, and I’m hers.

“Lead the way, my love,” I murmur against her hair, relishing the sweet scent of her lavender perfume.

Hand in hand, we make our way back inside, not even trying to hide the giddy smiles plastered across our faces. Mariah leans into my side as we walk, her head resting on my bicep, and I’ve never felt more complete.

As we enter the ballroom, a hush falls over the crowd. Curious eyes follow our every move, widening at the sight of our joined hands and rumpled clothing. A couple of monsters turn to each other with scandalized whispers, and some of our former classmates wear shocked expressions.

Surely everyone remembers how I treated Mariah in high school. Even if they heard of our rumored engagement last month, it’s probably a surprise to see us acting this cozy right now.

But I remind myself that I don’t care about the whispers or the stares. Let them talk. All that matters is the amazing woman beside me and the love we share.

I lead Mariah onto the dance floor just as a slow song begins to play, the romantic melody swelling around us. Pulling her into my arms, I hold her close, swaying gently to the music. Her body molds perfectly against mine, like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

Mariah lifts her head from my chest, the soft light making her skin glow.

“I love you, Thorak Ironfist,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it.”

“I love you too, Mariah Parker,” I rumble, brushing a feather-light kiss across her forehead. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend the rest of my days proving it to you, and making up for all the time we lost.”

Mariah’s eyes glint with unshed tears as she rises up on her toes to press a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. I lose myself in her, in this perfect moment where nothing exists but the two of us, swaying together.

For the first time in weeks, the tightness in my chest eases, replaced by a deep sense of rightness, of coming home.

28

THORAK

Iapproach the Moonflower Inn, dressed in my nicest leather vest and sturdy trousers, my heavy boots thumping on the cobblestones. Mariah agreed to dinner with my parents tonight. It’s a huge step for us after dating for just a month, but things have been going so well that it felt like it was time to deal with it.

I can’t wait to see her, though my stomach churns with nervousness.

Stepping inside, the cozy lobby’s flickering fireplace and soft fragrant breeze calm my jitters. Mariah emerges from the back, looking breathtaking in a flowing green blouse that brings out her emerald eyes.

Still, I notice the apprehension in the set of her shoulders, the way she chews at her bottom lip. Mariah tucks herself against my side and I pull her close, brushing a kiss to her temple.

“Hey,” I murmur. “You look beautiful.”

She offers me a crooked smile. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” Her fingers pluck at my vest.

“Only the best for meeting the parents, right?” I joke lightly, hoping to ease some of her tension.

“Right,” Mariah agrees with a shaky laugh. “Lead the way, handsome.”

Hand in hand, we exit the inn into Elderberry Falls’ bustling streets. The smell of baking bread and blooming flowers fills the air. As we walk, I give Mariah’s fingers a reassuring squeeze.

But as we draw closer to my parents’ house, Mariah’s steps falter. She turns to me, worry etched across her delicate features.

“Thorak, I can’t stop thinking about the last time I saw your parents at the brewery. The way they looked at me, the things they said...” She shakes her head, chestnut waves cascading over her shoulders. “I know Gruna’s been working with them, but what if it’s not enough? What if they still can’t accept me?”

Gruna’s been trying hard to get my parents to come around over the past month. She and Mariah have quickly become close friends, and Gruna wants my parents to accept this relationship as badly as I do. She’s been talking with them, sharing articles and books, and thinks they’ve made good progress in overcoming their prejudices.

I’ve barely spoken to my parents since our last confrontation. Orc clans are close-knit families, and it hurts to have grown estranged from them. But I know my sister wouldn’t have encouraged this dinner if she didn’t believe Ma and Da were ready to be more open-minded.

I stop walking and gently cup Mariah’s face in my large hands, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze.

“Mariah, listen to me. I know my parents haven’t been the most welcoming in the past, but I truly believe they’re trying to change.” I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. “And even if they can’t fully accept us tonight, it won’t change how I feel about you. Nothing ever could.”

Mariah leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opens them again, there’s a steely resolve amid the apprehension.

“I know, Thorak. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.” She takes a steadying breath. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. But I trust you, and I trust in us.”

I press a tender kiss to her forehead before we resume walking, my arm securely around her waist. As we approach the front door of my childhood home, memories of the confrontation with my parents after Ygra’s meddling flash through my mind. The harsh words exchanged, the way I stood my ground and refused to let them dictate my life or my love.

It was a turning point for me, a moment of growth and clarity. I knew then, with unwavering certainty, that Mariah was the one I wanted to build a future with, if I could ever win her back.

And now, standing together on the threshold of this pivotal evening, that same resolve courses through my veins.

I give Mariah’s hand a reassuring squeeze, our fingers interlaced. “Ready?” I ask softly, searching her face for any sign she might back out.

But she nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “As I’ll ever be.”

With a deep breath, I raise my free hand and knock on the heavy oaken door. It swings open, revealing the warm, inviting interior of my parents’ home.

Ma stands inside the entrance, wringing her hands nervously. Her eyes dart between Mariah and me, her expression a mix of uncertainty and tentative hope.

“Please come in,” Ma says, stepping aside to let us enter. “Welcome to our home, Mariah.” She reaches out as if to embrace Mariah, and then seems to get in her head about it. In the end, she gives Mariah an awkward pat on the arm.

The aroma of hearty stew and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, mingling with the faint scent of woodsmoke from the crackling fireplace. We step through the foyer and into the cozy living room, where Da sits in his favorite armchair, his weathered face etched with apprehension.

Gruna bounds over to us, her dark hair bouncing with each step. She engulfs Mariah in a warm hug, whispering something in her ear that makes Mariah’s shoulders relax slightly.

“It’s good to see you both,” Gruna says, turning to me with a bright smile. “I’ve been helping Ma in the kitchen all afternoon. Wait until you taste the roast venison!” She winks at Mariah conspiratorially.

I chuckle. Leave it to Gruna to diffuse the tension with her bubbly personality. “Sounds delicious, Gru.”

Da clears his throat and rises from his chair, his large frame filling the space. “Mariah,” he says gruffly, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming.”

Mariah accepts his handshake, her small hand dwarfed by his massive one. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Ironfist.”

“Please, call me Krag.” Da’s lips twitch into a semblance of a smile. It’s a start.

Ma ushers us to the dining room, the table laden with steaming platters of food. My gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the beautifully set table. They’ve truly made an effort here.

The centerpiece is a stunning arrangement of polished gemstones and metallic figurines, a nod to our orcish love of precious minerals and expert craftsmanship. It’s an heirloom centerpiece that my family usually only pulls out on holidays. Each place setting features intricately woven placemats in rich, earthy tones, and our finest polished silverware gleams in the soft candlelight.

All of Gruna and my younger siblings have been sent off to an auntie’s house for the night, which lends an unnatural quiet and formality to the room.

We take our seats around the table, and I can feel the nervous energy radiating from Mariah beside me. Under the table, I rest my hand on her knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She shoots me a grateful look, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.

Ma and Da sit across from us, with Gruna sliding into the chair next to Mariah. An awkward silence descends as Ma begins dishing out generous portions of the savory venison stew, the rich aroma wafting through the air.

Gruna, bless her, immediately jumps in to fill the lull. “Mariah, you have to try Ma’s famous honey bread! She only makes it for special occasions.” She passes a basket of golden, glistening rolls.

“It smells amazing,” Mariah says with a genuine smile, helping herself to a still-warm roll. She tears it in half, steam rising from the soft center, and takes a bite. Her eyes widen in delight. “Mor’ghan, this is delicious! You’ll have to teach me how to make it sometime.”

Ma looks surprised but pleased by the compliment. “Thank you, dear. It’s an old family recipe, passed down from my grandmother.” She hesitates, then adds, “Perhaps we could bake together one day.”

Mariah beams at her. “I’d like that very much.”

As we dig into the hearty meal, Gruna keeps the conversation flowing with funny stories from the brewery and updates on our younger siblings. Mariah chimes in here and there, slowly growing more at ease. Ma and Da listen attentively, asking polite questions. There are a few awkward lulls, but overall, the mood is cautiously optimistic.

Until my dad clears his throat and says, “So, Mariah, what are your intentions with our son?”

Her face flushes a beet red and she darts a panicked look at me.

I bristle at my father’s blunt question, but before I can intervene, Mariah takes a deep breath and meets his gaze steadily.

“Krag, I love your son with all my heart,” she says, her voice unwavering. “My intentions are to build a life with him and to support him in his dreams. I know your family has a history with humans that makes you wary of me, but my feelings for Thorak are genuine and true.”

I reach for her hand and intertwine our fingers.

Da grunts, but I catch the hint of approval in his eyes. “And what of children? Of carrying on the Ironfist name and legacy? Can a human even carry orc issues?”

Mariah’s face flushes again, and this time I do step in. “Da, with all due respect, that is between Mariah and I only. We’ve barely been together a month. It’s far too soon to be worrying about children and legacies. And if we do decide to have that conversation someday, we will be having it alone.”

Ma clears her throat delicately. “What your father means to say is that family is very important to us orcs. We want to make sure that Thorak’s partner understands and respects that.”

I can see Mariah relax slightly at Ma’s more diplomatic phrasing. She nods and says, “Of course. Family is important to me as well. Both my human family and my found family here in Elderberry Falls.”

“Ma, Da,” I interject, my voice steady despite the nerves coursing through my veins. “We know that this hasn’t been easy for you. Our relationship has forced you to confront some deep-seated beliefs you’ve held for your whole lives. But you need to know that Mariah...she’s not just some passing fancy or rebellion against tradition. She’s the love of my life.”

My gaze locks with Mariah’s, who gives me an encouraging nod.

“Her kindness, her compassion, her strength—they’ve shown me what true love really means. She’s it for me, whether or not you accept us. But I hope you do.”

Da’s eyes soften, a glimmer of understanding breaking through the hardened exterior. His gaze shifts from me to Mariah, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. Slowly, he nods, a gesture so slight it’s almost imperceptible.

Beside him, Ma’s hand reaches out, tentatively bridging the gap between herself and Mariah. Her fingers brush against Mariah’s, a hesitant but sincere touch.

“We...we can see how much you love each other,” she says, her voice quiet but steady. “And I promise you that we’re trying. We have much to learn and unlearn. But we want to be in your lives.”

The tension in the room dissipates. Gruna beams, relief plain on her face. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders, the burden of years of conflict and misunderstanding beginning to ease.

Eventually, the evening draws to a close. I’m about to walk out with Mariah when my parents ask me to stay back. I shoot Mariah a look and she nods.

“Go ahead,” Mariah says softly, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait outside.”

With a parting smile, she slips out the front door, leaving me alone with my parents. I turn to face them, steeling myself.

Da clears his throat gruffly. “Son, we wanted to say that we’re sorry.” He looks me square in the eye, his expression earnest. “For how we’ve been stuck in our old ways, and for everything that happened with Ygra.”

Ma nods, her eyes glistening. “Seeing you with Mariah tonight, the way you look at each other...it’s clear that your love is real and true. I can’t apologize enough for going around your back with Ygra.”

Da steps forward, pulling something out of his pocket. “We wanted to give you this, for whenever you might need it. It’s yours to use as you see fit.”

He opens up his palm and sitting on it is the family heirloom engagement ring, the same one that they had given to Ygra. But they’ve made changes to it. The orcish swirls and designs in the metal band remain the same but they’ve swapped the gem out…to a diamond.

They’ve taken our family ring and altered it to include a human tradition.

My throat suddenly tightens and I clear it gruffly.

I reach out and gently grab the ring from my father’s hand, sliding it into my own pocket. But before I can respond, Da pulls me into a brusque hug, so unnatural for him.

And then he utters words I’ve been waiting years for him to say. “I’m proud of you, son.”

29

MARIAH - SIX MONTHS LATER

Istand at the front desk of the Moonflower Inn, a smile on my face as I survey the bustling lobby. The air hums with an electric new energy—the guests chatting animatedly on the plush armchairs, nursing steaming cups of moonflower tea; the line forming at the reception desk as new arrivals wait to check in; the stack of comment cards on the counter, each one filled with glowing praise.

A swell of pride rises through me, buoying me like a gentle breeze. We’re booked solid for the next three months, a first for the Moonflower. Word has spread about Ecco’s spellbinding performances and they’ve been selling out every week. People have been coming to stay just to see her, since guests get first dibs on tickets.

We’ve even had a new influx of human guests, fans of Thorak’s ales who are making a pilgrimage to Elderberry Falls to visit the brewery in person.

Lost in my reverie, I almost don’t notice the familiar figure approaching the front desk until he clears his throat quietly. I blink. Robert Kingsley stands there, a sheaf of papers clutched in his hands, his posture relaxed and eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Robert, what a lovely surprise!” I greet him warmly, my curiosity piqued at his unexpected appearance.

The Kingsley I knew seven months ago was stiffer than a petrified redwood, his suit always crisp and countenance severe. But the man before me now has a softer edge, from the easy slope of his shoulders to the gentle upward curve of his lips.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, glancing around the lobby. “Looks like business is booming these days.”

“We’ve been very fortunate,” I reply, my smile broadening. “What brings you by today? Can I grab you one of the scones from the cafe?”

Robert chuckles, patting the papers in his hands. “Actually, I’m here on a more permanent mission. I’ve been house hunting.”

My eyebrows lift in surprise. “House hunting? Here in Elderberry Falls?”

He nods, his expression turning thoughtful. “I never thought I’d say this, but...I’ve grown quite fond of this quirky little town. The people, the magic in the air, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.” He clears his throat, trying to affect a serious countenance again. “And since I’ve started distributing Thorak’s brews, my business interests here have grown. It only makes sense for me to split my time between here and the human lands.”

I smile. “Ah yes, it’s just pragmatic,” I say teasingly.

But to hear Robert Kingsley, former champion of the ordinary and skeptic of all things mystical, proclaim his love for a town bursting at the seams with enchantment—it shows far we’ve come.

How hearts can open and prejudices fade when people are given the chance to truly understand one another.

Just then, Thorak strides through the front door of the Moonflower, his presence instantly commanding the room. Our eyes meet across the lobby, and that familiar flutter rises in my chest, the one that never fails to leave me breathless.

He makes his way over to where Kingsley and I are standing, his hand finding the small of my back as he pulls me close. “Well, if it isn’t my two favorite humans,” he rumbles, his voice rich with affection.

Kingsley chuckles, shaking Thorak’s hand with a firm grip. “Good to see you, Thorak. I was just telling Mariah about my house hunting adventures.”

“Is that so?” Thorak arches a brow, his golden eyes sparkling with interest. “Find anything promising?”

As the two of them launch into an animated discussion about the quirks and charms of various magical homes, I marvel at the easy camaraderie between them. Gone are the days of tense standoffs and barely concealed hostility.

In their place, a genuine friendship has blossomed, one built on mutual respect and shared interests.

I lean into Thorak’s sturdy frame, relishing how his arm tightens around me, as if he can’t quite believe I’m real. His eyes flick down to meet mine, and in that brief, charged moment, I see the depth of his love, the unwavering devotion that takes my breath away.

Kingsley’s voice breaks through our reverie, and we turn our attention back to the conversation at hand. He regales us with tales of enchanted gardens and mischievous household sprites. Seven months ago, I never could have imagined standing here, having this easy conversation with these two men.

But now, everything feels like it’s just as it should be.

After a while, Kingsley takes his leave, promising to keep us updated on his house hunting progress. Thorak turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I have a surprise for you,” he murmurs, his voice low and playful.

My pulse quickens as he takes my hand, his skin warm and slightly rough against mine. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He grins, mouth spreading wide around his ivory tusks. “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

With that, he’s leading me out of the inn, his strides purposeful and sure. I follow willingly, my curiosity growing.

But as we round the corner into the town square, my steps falter.

I know this place all too well—it’s the very spot where Thorak and I had our devastating confrontation all those months ago. The pain and heartbreak of that day is still fresh in my mind.

Thorak must sense my hesitation, because he turns to face me.

“The town square holds painful memories for both of us,” he says softly, taking both of my hands in his. “But it’s also a reminder of how far we’ve come, of the incredible love we’ve fought for and won.”

And then, to my utter shock, Thorak kneels before me in the middle of the town square.

My breath catches as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box.

“Mariah,” he begins, his voice cracking with emotion. “From the moment I first saw you walking through the halls of our high school, I knew that you were someone special. I didn’t always express that in the right way⁠—”

We both laugh at this, and I swipe at the tears that are starting to form in the corner of my eyes.

“But I’ve never stopped loving you,” he continues. “Not for a single moment.”

Thorak opens the box, revealing a stunning ring that sparkles in the sunlight. I realize with a jolt that it’s the same family heirloom that Ygra had been parading around. But it’s been altered, adjusted down in size to fit a small human hand, with a massive, sparkling diamond in the center.

I stifle a gasp.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Mariah,” Thorak says, reaching out for my hand. “I want to build a home and a life with you. Will you be my mate? Will you marry me?”

For a moment, I’m speechless.

And then, through my tears, I manage to choke out a single word.

“Yes.”

Thorak’s face breaks into a blindingly wide grin, his ivory tusks glinting in the sunlight. He leaps to his feet, sweeping me into his arms and spinning me around as joyful laughter bubbles up from his broad chest.

Thorak pulls me in for a tender kiss, and cheers and applause go up around us. A small crowd must have gathered during his proposal—I hadn’t noticed, too focused on him and him alone.

I break the kiss, gazing up at Thorak, his eyes shimmering with love and joy.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing against mine. “More than anything in this world or any other.”

“I love you too,” I whisper back, my heart full to bursting. “Forever and always.”

After the proposal, Thorak leads me back to his stone cottage. As he pushes open the heavy wooden door, Snuffles comes scampering up, his little hooves clicking against the polished concrete floor. He snorts happily, nuzzling against my leg before turning his adoring gaze to Thorak.

Atop the massive oak dining table in the center of the room, Thorak has laid out a feast—succulent roasted meats, vibrant steamed vegetables, and a loaf of freshly baked bread that fills the air with its tantalizing aroma.

“Thorak, this is incredible,” I breathe, turning to face him. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

He shrugs, an earnest smile crossing his face. “I wanted to celebrate our engagement properly. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to cook for someone special.”

My stomach flutters at his words. It’s still surreal to think that we’ve come this far, that in less than a year he’s gone from being my loathed former bully to my betrothed lover.

Thorak pulls out a chair for me, and I settle in, Snuffles hopping up onto my lap. Thorak pours us each a mug of his signature ale, the rich amber liquid catching the light.

As we dig in, savoring each delicious bite, my mind drifts to our future together.

“You know,” I begin, setting down my fork, “We’ll need somewhere to live after the wedding.”

Thorak raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking...the inn?” I suggest hesitantly. “I mean, it’s where our whole story began. If it weren’t for those pesky pixie dust mites and our fake engagement scheme, who knows if we’d even be here right now?”

To my relief, Thorak chuckles. “You have a point there, Mariah. But I’m not sure your cozy little apartment is quite suited for a hulking orc like myself.”

I lean forward, giddy excitement building. “That’s just it, though! We could renovate, expand the space to make it work for both of us. And with the funds from your distribution deal and the inn’s success, we’ll have plenty to work with.”

Thorak reaches across the table, covering my hand with his own. His rough palm is warm against my skin. “Mrs. Ironfist, I do believe you’re onto something,” he rumbles, his deep voice sending shivers deep into my core.

I blush at my future name on his lips. It sounds right, like a promise of the life we’re building together.

“Call me that again,” I whisper.

Thorak gently picks Snuffles up off my lap and deposits him on the ground, and then pushes my chair back less gently. His strong hands encircle my waist and he yanks me toward him.

“Mrs. Ironfist,” he murmurs, his lips brushing deliciously against my neck as he pulls me on top of him. His arousal grows below me and I moan. “I like the sound of that.”

“Again,” I say.

“Mrs. Ironfist.”

My breath hitches as he trails kisses along my throat, each touch sending sparks of desire coursing through my veins.

“You’re mine, now and always,” he rumbles, his hands roaming over my curves with a possessive touch. “Mrs. Ironfist.”

Thorak captures my lips in a toe-curling kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming me with a passion that leaves me dizzy.

Lost in a haze of need, we quickly shed our clothes, scattering them across the floor. The air on my bare skin only fuels the flames of my desire. I arch against Thorak, reveling in the contrast of his huge body against my own.

With a low growl, Thorak lifts me effortlessly, setting me on the edge of the dinner table. The wood is smooth and cool beneath my thighs, but all I can focus on is the heat of his body as he settles between my legs.

“I love you, Mrs. Ironfist,” he rasps, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”

I gasp as Thorak’s massive, ridged length brushes against my slick folds, teasing me with the promise of what’s to come. His eyes blaze with desire as he grips my hips, pulling me flush against him.

“I love you too, Mr. Ironfist,” I whisper, my voice hitching as he slowly sinks into me. “Forever.”

The feeling of him stretching me, filling me so completely, is almost too much to bear. My head falls back and my eyes flutter closed as I lose myself in the exquisite pleasure of our joining. Thorak groans, a deep, primal, monstrous sound that vibrates through his broad chest.

He begins to move, slow at first, letting me adjust to his impressive size. But soon, his thrusts pick up speed, each one sending waves of ecstasy crashing over me, building and building until I’m drowning in sensation.

With each powerful thrust, the ridges along Thorak’s massive shaft caress my inner walls, igniting sparks of pure bliss that radiate through my entire being. I cling to his broad shoulders, my nails digging into his green skin as I meet his relentless pace, our bodies moving as one.

“Mariah,” Thorak rasps against my throat, his voice strained with the intensity of his desire. “My mate, my love, my everything.”

His words send a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me, and I shatter in his arms, my release crashing over me in wave after wave. He finds his release as well, and our bodies move together in perfect harmony.

The haze of my euphoria slowly wears off, and as I pull myself up against Thorak’s warm chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, all I can think about is the overwhelming love I have for this incredible orc.

My orc.

My husband.

My heart.

COMING SOON!

What happens when a seductive siren meets a man with a heart of stone?

Ecco’s star is on the rise, but when the bubbly singer gets assigned a grumpy-as-hell gargoyle bodyguard who is her opposite in every way, she’s in for more than she ever could have imagined. You won’t want to miss this cozy, spicy gargoyle/siren romance!

Pre-order book 2 in the Elderberry Falls series, The Gargoyle and the Songbird, coming later this year.

WANT MORE OF MARIAH AND THORAK?

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THANK YOU!

My utmost gratitude, first off, to you wonderful readers for coming on this ride with me. I am so honored that you picked up this book and that you read it all the way to these acknowledgments. I cannot thank you enough for spending your time on my story and for giving an unknown author a chance.

If you made it this far, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or sharing your thoughts on TikTok or Instagram. I would buy you a magical coffee at the Enchanted Bean in return, if it existed! <3

Mariah and Thorak’s story started as a conversation with a friend about bully tropes and how to turn them on their head—what if he seems like a brute because he’s a literal monster? What if he’s a secret softie cinnamon roll who has had a big, stupid crush on the female love interest for his whole life and just does not know how to express it properly? What if I gave him a TEACUP BOAR as a pet? (This is not a thing; why is this not a thing?) What if he lived in Stars Hollow, but make it magical?

The book came together quickly out of that, and suddenly Elderberry Falls felt like a very real place that could contain a whole bunch of stories. I’m excited to expand upon this world soon with book 2, The Gargoyle and the Songbird (now available for pre-order!) and show you more of Ecco and the other characters we’ve touched on here.

I also wanted to give a big shoutout to childcare workers. This book would not exist without an incredible team of them who helped me squirrel away several hours every day to think about orcs and magic and romance. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the true magic wielders in our world.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cora Crane debut monster romance writer. Her childhood was spent with her nose endlessly tucked into a book, usually a high fantasy of some sort or another. So perhaps it's not a surprise that she’s now spending her days dreaming up cozy fantasy towns and magical monsters.

When she’s not working on her next story, you can usually find her with a coffee in hand, either in a big mug while she re-reads her favorite fantasy books for the millionth time, or in her trusty to-go mug as she goes for a walk (preferably near water!).