Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
I thought, at this time of day, I’d be in and out in thirty seconds, but no. Ella’s right there, talking to the baby in a low, secret voice that makes Ainsley kick both feet and drool with joy.
I try to ignore the way Ella’s ass looks in those stupid yoga pants when she squats down to fetch a picture book for the baby, but fuck, I can’t. My brain short-circuits, and I end up standing there like a decorative statue until Briella coughs and reaches for the file in my hand.
The next day, I glance up from my inbox and nearly choke on my protein bar. Ella’s walking Ainsley in that stroller right past my window, hips gliding, sun painting her hair like it’s on fire. She doesn’t see me lurking, but I sure as fuck see her. My cock goes rigid the second she sways past my window, hips rolling like she owns the whole damn road. I have to grit my teeth and turn away before somebody catches me leering at the human nanny like a horny teenager. A little voice in the back of my mind attempts to convince me that she might be my mate, but I shut the fucker up. Goddamn it. Get it together, Oren.
I distract myself with emails, but two minutes later, there’s a commotion in the front office. Voices. Ella’s laugh, low and unfiltered, slides straight down my spine. I peek out and catch her cradling Ainsley on her hip while balancing a brown paper bag in the other arm. No makeup, hair wild, cheeks pink from the sun. She’s bringing Aric his damn lunch he left behind, and I realize she’s the most dangerous thing in this building.
Aric looks up, surprised. The second he spots Ella, he goes soft in the eyes. Pathetic. But all I can focus on is the way Aric smiles at her. Not a threat, not even close, but my blood boils anyway because that’s my territory he’s drifting into. I barely know the human, and already, my fists clench at the thought of another Orc making her laugh, making her feel comfortable, making her look at him with those wild, stormy eyes. Mine. The word detonates in my skull so loud my tusks ache.
Fuck. I can’t even wrap my head around it. She’s human, she’s chaos, she’s too young for me, and yet the second Aric gets within two feet of her, my whole body goes on high alert. Possessive. Primal. Every inch of me is tuned to her, keyed up and ready to claim. I’ve officially lost my damn mind.
By the end of day four, I know I’m in deep shit, but I’m still too stubborn to give in. I tell myself to ignore these crazy emotions. This, too, proves futile.
That night, the universe’s gloves come off, and the dream comes. The mate dream is no joke, and there’s no ignoring it.
I’m in the old hall, surrounded by fog and shadow. At the far end of the room, Ella stands on a raised stone, barefoot, fiery hair loose down her back. There’s a pattern, black and swirling, etched on her chest. It’s the Arch family mate-mark, the one that only appears on true soul-bonds.
She looks at me and smiles like she’s got a secret just for me. She moves just right so the mark is visible, and in the dream, I’m filled with an emotion so intense I drop to my knees, ready to worship her for all eternity.
I wake, heart pounding, sweat freezing on my chest.
I know what this means.
The mate mark is not a myth. It is coded into every molecule of my ancestry, and I’m powerless against it. It’s as ancient as blood and as real as the ache in my hands.
I stare at the ceiling until the phosphorescent green glow from the settlement's moss lights fades to a dull ember, counting the ancient cracks in the stone overhead like battle scars.
When dawn finally seeps through my window, I’m still awake, my massive body rigid with tension, tusks grinding against my bottom lip.
Ella Blume is my fated mate. There’s no denying it, and the realization sits like a boulder in my chest. And I've already made a mess of things with her, stomping around like a bull with a goddamn splinter in its ass. Fuck my life.
I have one job now, and it's not to fight it or outsmart it like some enemy on a battlefield. It's to convince her that, beneath this scarred green hide and permanent scowl, there's more to me than glares and barked orders that make her flinch.
Tomorrow, I'll start my careful, methodical campaign, the way I'd plan any siege. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, pairing a delicate human with hands like butterfly wings to an Orc who breaks steel goblets when he's annoyed. It has delivered a challenge worthy of an Arch, and I've never backed down from one yet.