Chapter 18 #2
The protective edge in his voice sends heat spiraling through me, and I have to resist the urge to drag him to the nearest coat closet and do scandalous things.
I catch him taking a subtle, deep breath and realize he can probably scent my arousal even here in this crowded ballroom.
The thought that his enhanced senses give him intimate knowledge of my body’s responses makes my cheeks burn… and my pulse quicken.
The next hour passes in a blur of introductions and conversations. I watch my colleagues’ initial skepticism transform into genuine respect as they realize he’s not just attractive arm candy, or an uneducated Other, but an intelligent male with his own expertise and insights.
“He’s wonderful,” whispers Jennifer, one of the junior partners, when Forge steps away to get us drinks. “Where did you find him?”
“Speed dating,” I say without thinking, then laugh at her shocked expression. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, whatever the story is, hold on to that one,” Jennifer advises. “He looks at you like you hung the moon.”
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes in my clutch. I pull it out to see a call from Jennifer Morrison, my client whose custody trial is only four days away.
For a moment, I freeze. This is it. The test. Do I take the call and risk ruining the evening, or do I ignore it and potentially fail a client who needs me?
Then I remember what Forge and I discussed. Systems, not desperate, knee-jerk responses.
“Excuse me for a second,” I murmur, holding up my phone in explanation. I step toward a quieter corner, and Forge gives me a knowing smile before turning back to the bar.
“Jennifer? Is everything okay?”
“Jordan, I’m so sorry to call on a Friday night, but my ex-husband just showed up demanding to see Allison even though it’s not his weekend. He’s threatening to call the police if I don’t let him in.”
My mind immediately shifts into lawyer mode. This is a serious situation that, if not handled properly, could affect our custody arrangement.
“Okay, first things first—do not let him in. He doesn’t have legal grounds to demand unscheduled visitation. Are you somewhere safe?”
“Yes, Allison and I are locked inside. But he’s making a scene in front of the neighbors.”
“Call the police and report that he’s trespassing and violating your custody agreement. I’ll send you the documentation number for our filing so you can reference it. You must be terrified, but if it’s any consolation, this actually helps our case.”
I spend five more minutes walking her through exactly what to do and assuring her that his behavior tonight will only strengthen our position at the next hearing. When I hang up, I take a deep breath and turn back toward the party.
Forge is standing a few feet away, two champagne glasses in his hands and a patient expression on his face. He’s clearly been waiting for me to finish, not hovering or looking impatient, just… there.
“Everything okay?” he asks, offering me a glass.
“Client emergency, but handled,” I say, accepting the champagne. “Thank you for waiting.”
“Of course.” His eyes search my face. “You look proud of yourself.”
“Do I?” I take a sip of champagne, considering. “I guess I am. A year ago, I would have left the party to deal with that in person. Even a few weeks ago, I would have spent twenty minutes on that call. Tonight, I gave her exactly what she needed without abandoning my personal life.”
“Systems that provide easier choices,” he says softly, and his proud smile makes my chest tight with emotion.
“Exactly.” I realize several of my colleagues are watching us curiously, probably wondering what the emergency was and why I’m still here. “I think we just passed our first real test.”
“The first of many,” he agrees, then sets down his champagne glass and offers me his hand. “Dance with me?”
The string quartet has given way to a small jazz ensemble, and several couples are already swaying on the dance floor. But before he can lead me out there, I catch his hand.
“Wait. There’s something I need to ask you first.”
His expression grows serious. “Anything.”
“Earlier tonight, when you looked at me and I felt that… connection. That wasn’t just attraction, was it?”
He studies my face for a long moment. “No. It wasn’t.”
“Then what was it?” My heart hammers. “Because it felt… important.”
He hesitates, and I can see him weighing his words. “Can we find somewhere quieter? This isn’t a conversation for the middle of a dance floor.”
We slip out onto a balcony overlooking the city, the cool night air a relief after the warmth of the ballroom. String lights twinkle overhead, and we’re blessedly alone.
“Forge,” I prompt after a silent minute ticks by, “you’re making me nervous.”
“Among my people, there’s something called a soulbond.” He leans against the railing, his expression serious. “Have you heard of it?”
“Riley mentioned it once. Something about… permanent connections?”
“Permanent is one word for it.” He takes a breath. “When two people love each other deeply—when they choose commitment with their whole hearts, then consummate it with loving passion—sometimes the Goddess blesses their union with a bond that links their souls.”
My stomach flips. “Links how?”
“Emotionally. Spiritually. The male can see a red shimmer around his mate…. Both partners can feel each other’s emotions through the bond.
” His amber eyes find mine. “And it’s forever, Jordan.
No divorce lawyer can break it. It’s not a contract.
It’s not even a choice, really. No, the commitment is a choice, but the bond, it just…
happens. If the connection is meant to be. ”
I should be terrified. Every divorce case I’ve handled—especially my own—should be screaming warnings. But instead, I feel a strange certainty settling in my chest. “Is it common?”
“No. Rare, even among orcs. Most couples never experience it.” He reaches for my hand, hesitant, like he’s afraid I’ll pull away. “Jordan, I need to tell you something.”
“Okay,” I breathe.
“I can see the shimmer. Around you. Right now.” His voice is rough with emotion. “It started tonight, when you introduced me to your colleagues. When you chose me, publicly and proudly, without hesitation.”
The confession hangs between us. My breath catches, and for a moment the world tilts. He can see something around me—something that marks me as his—and he’s been watching it happen all night. The possessiveness of it should terrify me, but instead heat floods through my body.
“You can see it right now?” My voice comes out breathless.
His eyes darken. “Yes. It’s faint but growing stronger. Like embers catching fire.”
I reach up and touch his face, half-expecting to feel something different—some physical manifestation of this bond he’s describing.
His skin is warm, familiar, and the way he leans into my touch with that low rumble in his chest makes my heart race.
“I can’t see it. But I can feel… something.
Like you’re pulling me toward you even when you’re standing still. ”
“That’s the bond recognizing itself,” he says softly, covering my hand with his. “It’s trying to complete.”
The enormity of it hits me. This isn’t just attraction or even love—this is destiny knocking on my door, asking if I’m brave enough to answer. My pulse pounds in my throat, and I can feel my hands trembling slightly.
“How long have you suspected?” I manage.
“That a bond might form? Since the beginning. The elders say you know your mate when you meet them—recognition that hits like lightning.” He looks almost shy now. “But I didn’t know it would actually manifest. I’d hoped, but…”
“What does it mean?” My voice comes out soft, and I can’t hide my fear. “If we… tonight…”
“If we make love, with the feelings we have, with the choices we’ve made…” He cups my face gently, his thumb stroking my cheek. “The bond might complete itself. You’d be mine in a way that goes beyond any human marriage.”
“And you’d be mine.” My voice is barely a whisper.
His eyes flash with something intense. “Yes.”
“Forever.”
“Forever,” he confirms. “I need you to understand what you’d be choosing. There’s no walking away from a soulbond, Jordan. Ever. Not if you change your mind, not if we fight, not if—”
“Not if I get scared and try to run?” I interrupt, thinking about the morning I fled his apartment.
He flinches. “Not even then. You’d be bound to me. Permanently.”
I should be terrified. Every instinct I’ve developed as a divorce lawyer should be screaming at me to slow down, to think this through, to protect myself.
But as I look at this orc who’s been patient with every fear, who’s fought for me without demanding anything in return, who sees all of me and wants me anyway… my fear dissolves.
“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly.
“Anything.”
“Do you want this? The bond?”
His answer is immediate. “More than anything.”
“Even knowing I’m difficult? That I’ll probably panic ten more times before I learn to trust this fully?”
“Even then.” A smile tugs at his mouth. “Especially then.”
“And if I say yes to this—to you, to forever—you promise to be patient when I mess up?”
“I promise,” he says solemnly. “Though I might need the same patience when I mess up too.”
“What if I want that?” I ask. “What if I want to be bound to you in a way that can’t be broken?”
“Then I’ll give you everything I am,” he says simply. “My heart, my soul, my life. All of it, yours.”
The words hit me low and deep, like a chord struck inside my chest. For a heartbeat, I forget how to breathe. All that strength, all that quiet devotion—offered so simply it undoes me.
I look at him. Really look at him.