Chapter 21
I walked beside Malek in silence, certain my heartbeat sounded like a drum to his ears. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so nervous—and, at the same time, so excited—over something as simple as dinner.
I followed him back to the hut, which now felt more welcoming. The fire in the hearth burned low, its soft light flickering across the walls and casting long, gentle shadows. The air carried the earthy scent of bathing herbs, mingling with the smell of burning wood.
Malek filled a bowl with thick, fragrant stew from the bubbling cauldron in the hearth and offered it to me.
"Kalisha left it for us."
“It’s perfect,” I said, taking the bowl.
The stew was hot and hearty, rich with meat and forest roots. The first bite reminded me just how hungry I was.
We sat near the hearth to eat in silence. Every so often, my gaze drifted to him without meaning to.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"About the plan," I lied, shifting my gaze to the embers.
Malek let out a long sigh. "It’ll work."
"It won’t be easy," I countered.
To my surprise, he reached for my hand, covering it with his own. For a moment, he simply stared at where we touched, his brown eyes distant.
"You’re strong, Fiona. More than you imagine."
There was no lie in his voice; he was being honest. And that honesty was… freeing. All my life, I had tried to be the perfect daughter, hiding who I truly was from most people—not out of shame, but because I knew they would judge me.
Even the fact that I wasn’t a true orc didn’t seem to change how he saw me. And that left me feeling strangely vulnerable, like I could finally let go of something I had been carrying for years.
Our gazes locked, and I took in the details of his face—every line and imperfection that made him unique. His scent wrapped around me, a blend of wet earth, rain, and forest. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, letting it settle within me.
"Why do you say that?" I asked in a whisper. "You hardly know me. To your people, I’m a stranger. To mine, I’m a disappointment that needs to be dealt with."
Malek squeezed my hand, the heat of his skin fusing with mine. He leaned forward, the firelight sculpting the hard lines of his face.
"I don’t see lineages or titles when I look at you," he replied. "I see someone who survived what should have broken her. Where you see weakness, I see fire. And fire doesn’t need permission to burn, Fiona."
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from him. No one had ever seen through my masks that way before.
"Fire can also burn everything if you aren’t careful."
Malek closed the distance between us, his warm breath brushing my face. His fingers slipped from my hand to the nape of my neck, possessive, while his thumb traced the line of my lower lip.
"Then let it burn," he whispered, his voice low, settling deep in my belly. "I would rather turn to ashes at your side than live without knowing your touch."
"Malek…" His name slipped from me like a plea, an acknowledgment of the line we were about to cross.
I didn’t know how we had reached this point.
Perhaps the adrenaline and exhaustion of the day had finally pushed us to the limit.
A part of me—the one raised under the rigid expectations of Ceilte—screamed that I should pull away.
I should stand up, regain my composure, and pretend this dangerous attraction didn’t exist. Pretend the feeling consuming me every time he drew near was nothing more than a passing delusion.
But if I turned away now, I knew I would spend the rest of my long life wondering if I had done the right thing.
My mind resisted, but my body had already given in. When Malek closed the distance between us, it felt like fate was sealing something that had always been meant to be.
His brown eyes burned with hunger, and knowing he accepted me, even with the blood in my veins, finally broke down my last defense.
"I can’t do this anymore, Fiona. You make me lose my mind."
I had no idea who leaned in first. Our breaths mingled, frantic, anticipating the final contact that would change everything between us—the past, the present, and the future.
Our lips met softly, almost tentatively at first, like the brush of a warm summer breeze. But the gentleness gave way to a spark of electricity that coursed through me. The kiss deepened slowly, unhurried, as we explored the unfamiliar, testing our limits.
His scent was intoxicating, impossible to resist. I licked his lower lip, silently pleading for entry, and he granted it with a low growl that vibrated against my mouth and down my spine.
His large, calloused hands gripped my hips, pulling me onto his lap until I straddled him.
I gasped at the sudden contact of our bodies, separated only by thin layers of fabric.
I could feel him against my center, already damp in response to his proximity.
The contrast between his raw strength and my own softness made my blood burn.
My head spun as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring mine with an urgency that stole my breath. Malek’s hands moved over my body in desperate caresses, pressing me against his chest as if he wanted to erase every space between us, merging us until I no longer knew where I ended and he began.
The attraction between us had become something impossible to contain. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of his sculpted body against mine. The sound of our breaths and lips echoed in the quiet cabin, drowning out even the crackling fire.
He broke the kiss briefly, pressing his forehead to mine, his brown eyes locked on mine as if searching for one final confirmation.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost a growl. "There’s no going back after this."
I didn’t hesitate.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Take me, Malek. I want you.”
He smiled—not gently, but with a fierce promise that made my stomach tighten with anticipation. Then he rose from the chair while still carrying me, pushing our bodies even closer.
"You have a way of stripping away my defenses, Fiona," he murmured against my mouth, a faint smile playing on his lips before his expression turned serious. “I never thought I’d find something this precious in the middle of so much chaos.”
My hand rose to his face, fingers tracing the line of his strong jaw.
"And I never thought I would find a home in my enemy's house," I confessed.
Malek closed his eyes, absorbing the weight of my words. When he opened them, the ferocity from before had softened into something vulnerable enough to make my chest ache.
He leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my swollen lips.
"Then it’s a good thing you lost that orb that brought you here, Fiona," he murmured against my skin, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "Because you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to let you leave."
The kiss resumed with renewed urgency—deeper and hungrier. Malek pulled away just enough to trail his lips down my neck, finding the exact spot where my pulse raced out of control.
"You’re mine, krash’uk," he whispered against my skin. "You always were."
He didn’t just pull at my clothes; he shredded them, his claws making short work of the fabric until the air hit my skin, stiffening my nipples.
He didn't stop to look. His mouth followed the path of his hands, his lips catching my nipple, sucking on it until my blood turned to liquid fire.
I came undone under the weight of that hunger, my fingers pulling at his hair to drag him closer to me.
I didn't just want his touch; I wanted him to devour me.
He carried us to the bed and lay me over the furs carefully, like I was precious. The shadows masked the heat in my cheeks, but they couldn't hide my scent. Malek’s nostrils flared, drinking me in with a hunger that told me he knew exactly how much I wanted him.
He positioned himself above me, bracing on his elbows.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and he smiled, brushing his thumb across them.
I licked his finger, drawing it into my mouth while holding his gaze with a boldness I barely recognized in myself.
His taste, salty and masculine, was even better than his scent.
The effect was immediate. Malek’s smile died, replaced by a low growl that reverberated inside my own chest. His pupils dilated until almost none of the brown of his eyes remained, only a hungry darkness.
"It isn't fair, Ruk'hai."
"What?"
"That I am the only one naked," I teased, sliding my hands down his broad chest, feeling every rigid muscle beneath my fingertips until I found the fabric of the only piece of clothing that barely covered his huge cock.
I boldly pulled the fabric, trying to reach the pulsing heat between his legs. In the blink of an eye, he stood, ridding himself of the loincloth with a sharp tug of his claws, revealing the body I had secretly desired since the day I first felt his touch.
He was magnificent.
A mountain of defined muscle, green skin, and scars that showed just how strong he was. The light from the hearth traced the contours of his abs and the deep grooves in his arms, which looked as though the Goddesses themselves had sculpted them.
As he knelt between my legs, the sheer weight of his massive frame sent me sinking deep into the furs.
My gaze drifted downward, inevitably drawn to his length.
It was large and thick, as expected of an orc over ten feet tall.
But what made my breath hitch was the ring of small golden pearls that encircled the swollen head, gleaming in the firelight.
Pulsing at the base like a second heart was a prominent knot the size of my fist.