CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Lara
“Brokk!” I scream, reaching for him as I fall.
The roar of water, the rush of wind on my skin, the flash of blue sky—it snaps out in an instant. Golden light surrounds me, as if I float in the middle of a sun-kissed cloud.
A disembodied voice booms, “What do you dream?”
“Brokk! I dream of Brokk!” Of how he cares for me and puts me first. He’s everything I could ever want in a partner. It doesn’t even matter that he’s a fae monster with all the physical extras. Okay, it matters—why am I lying to myself about how wonderful all of that is?—but that’s not the most important part.
What I really love is his huge heart. How safe he makes me feel, as if I can do anything.
“Your heart has been judged. You will now go to your just reward.”
Brokk will go home to Faerie! I need to go to Faerie too, in order to be with him.
But the view that materializes around me is all too familiar. I stand in the backyard of my childhood home in Ferndale Falls. The forest stretches out in front of me, almost swallowing the small cottage I moved into at sixteen, my parents indulging me in my desire for a writer’s “space to create.”
I love this cottage. I renovated it only a year ago and redecorated. It’s my favorite place on Earth.
But that’s exactly the problem. This is Earth, and Brokk’s in Faerie.
I know I should be glad to be alive and away from Elton and his goons, but that safety only exists because I’m parted from the man I love.
Then another thought strikes. God, did Brokk even make it out of that room? What if that shot hit him and kept him from going through the door? No. No no no. He has to be okay! Even if he’s not with me, please let him be okay!
Moaning my distress, I fall to my knees. My hands dig into the grass, tugging as too many emotions surge through me.
How could I finally find my person only to immediately lose him? Why didn’t I stay in that photographer’s studio all those months ago? I could have been with Brokk this entire time! Why did I let my insecurities keep me away from him?
I’m so glad I told him I love him. At least I have that—I didn’t let fear hold me back this time. But it’s not enough, not without him. A sob tears from my throat.
“Hey, now.” Strong hands grip my shoulders, tugging me upright. “What did that grass ever do to warrant such treatment?”
“Brokk!” I launch off the ground and spin in place like a ballerina on a sugar-fueled caffeine high, my ponytail whipping through the air so quickly it makes a whistling sound. I crash into his bare chest, hiccupping with little half-laughs, half sobs. “You’re okay!” Then I see a line of blood on his biceps, about an inch below the half-healed wound from two days ago. “You were shot!”
“It’s nothing. A scratch.” He shrugs. “It takes a great deal more to keep an orc warrior down.”
This time I take him at his word and move on to the thing I really want to ask him. “How are you here?”
“Where else would I be?” He lifts my hand and presses it to the center of his upper chest, his heartbeat thumping with strength and life. “The Door of Dreams read my heart, and you are my heart.”
“I thought you went home to Faerie!”
“No. It’s no longer my home, not without you.” His eyes hold mine, brimming with sincerity. “I love you, Lara. I’d give up a million realms to be with you, my brilliant and beautiful mate.”
Oh! Tears prickle my eyes. I’d hoped, but to hear him say it! He loves me!
“Even before I met you, you were important to me. When I first arrived on Earth, no one wanted to believe I was an orc. Even those who liked orcs still thought I wore a costume. They treated me as a novelty, something amusing.” He cups my cheek. “Your books not only gave me a job, they also reminded me of who orcs are—proud warriors who are desirable as mates. You gave me hope that even if I couldn’t find a way home, I could find someone who could love the real me.”
“I love you, the real you.” My heart aches for how alone he must have felt in those early days. “I love you for your ingenuity and your willingness to help others. I love that you fight for what you believe in. And I love how safe you make me feel.”
“I like this new list.” His fingers brush over my brow. “I love this busy brain of yours.”
“I didn’t need to make a list. I haven’t needed to make one all day.” I offer him a soft smile. “I’m not as scared of the unknown now that I have you by my side.”
Just as Brokk’s not that fae of long ago, I’m not my ancestor. I’m not giving the scared answer Caroline gave and asking for only one night. Instead, I choose the eon.
I choose forever.
“My Lara.” He lifts me higher until his words whisper over my lips. “My mate, my love.”
Brokk kisses me soft and slow and teasing, like we have all the time in the world to wring every drop of pleasure from each moment, each touch. His kisses fill my veins with honey, sweet and thick and drugging. I cling to him, wrapping my legs around his waist.
His magic pulses, and the little booties fall from my feet. With a growl, Brokk spins and heads for the cottage. “Please tell me there’s an empty bed we can make use of.”
“Yes,” I whisper, pressing kisses to his neck. “It’s my cottage— our cottage.”
“Ours?” He pulls back enough to catch my eyes.
“If you like. I thought maybe we could leave New York. Live somewhere with forest.” It feels right. It feels like he belongs here in Ferndale Falls. “There’s a lot to discuss. We need to—”
He silences me with a kiss. “We need to talk later. Love now.”
I nod and point to the cute little rabbit planter on the front stoop. “The key’s in there.”
Brokk’s magic ripples through the air, and the leafy top of the purple shamrock parts for him, revealing the brass key.
In a flash, we’re inside, Brokk kicking the wooden door shut behind us. All the decorations are cottagecore, dark oak floors and the cream-colored walls covered in illustrated prints of mushrooms and tiny faeries. I point down the hall, and he strides past the living room, with its stone fireplace, overstuffed couch, and bunches of drying flowers hanging from exposed beams.
The bedroom looks even more welcoming, with the queen-sized bed covered in pale-pink and green and piled with pillows. I chuckle. The quilt I picked out a year ago matches the two of us perfectly. It’s also perfect that Brokk’s the first person I’ll welcome into this bed.
He sets me down, his hands moving immediately to glide the zipper down my back. Our times before were hungry and hard, fueled by the feeling of grabbing what we could, because we were being hunted.
This time, Brokk’s touch is gentle and teasing, his dark eyes watching me carefully, gauging my every response. He drags the sequined cloth forward off my shoulders, and I grab the journal and drop it onto the nightstand to get it out of our way. When the backs of his fingers brush over my breasts, my gasp makes him smile, slow and wicked.
My stomach flips. God, that smile does things to me.
He chuckles, rich and deep, the sound full of heated promise. “I’m going to knot you and make you mine.”
“I’m already yours.” I slide a hand up the firm muscles of his chest. “Utterly and completely yours.”
“You will be more so. We will be fully mated.”
I shiver, an ache deep within me wanting— needing —this connection to him.
He crouches, sliding the catsuit down my body in an unhurried, deliberate glide.
Open-mouth kisses trace over my skin with the tease of lips and tongue and tusks. I shiver as Brokk tastes every part of me bared by the slow slide of sequined pink fabric.
When the catsuit’s finally off, he grins at me and hooks his tusks in my panties, pulling them from me without using his hands. He straightens up on his knees, his clever tongue working the front clasp of my bra. Then he removes it using only his tusks, too.
“You’re so very beautiful, my mate.” His heated eyes roam over me with an intensity I can feel like little licks of fire. His words make it true. I am the most beautiful I’ve ever been in my life.
Brokk stands and lays me on the bed before taking off his boots and pants. He crawls up over me, his long hair falling around us like a silky black curtain.
Creamy fluid leaks from his erection, dripping onto my stomach in a wash of heat that sets my blood boiling. “Brokk!”
“I’ve got you, my sweet mate.” His hand glides down my body, stroking over my clit in a flash of keen sensation that sends me soaring into my first orgasm.
As soon as I come down, he goes to follow with his mouth, and I clutch at his shoulders.
“No, please. I need you inside me.” I ache. Not just my pussy—something in my chest aches, a feeling of incompleteness I can no longer stand. I touch right between my breasts. “I’m so empty.”
“It’s the mate bond,” he growls. “We need to complete it.”
“Yes. Please, Brokk.”
“Of course, my love.” He cups my cheek. “We have all the time in the world for other delights. But I need to make sure you’re ready to receive my knot.”
“I’m ready.” I nod and shimmy my hips up off the bed until my stomach slides across his cock. “So ready.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He leans over to nip at my lips, and his hand goes to work between my thighs. Brokk pumps handfuls of orc seed from his cock and bathes me in them, slicking my pussy and shoving it inside until all of me burns with need.
Fingers fill me, curling upward to brush over a sensitive spot inside that makes me writhe and gasp. His low, wicked chuckle caresses my ears, sending my heart skipping.
God, how I want this man!
His thumb brushes over my clit, his eyes eating up my every expression as I gasp and plead.
“That’s it. That’s my good girl.”
Brokk brings me to another shuddering climax. Then he’s on top of me, his dear face all I can see as his massive cock fills me completely.