Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
A s Jana left Jessamin’s quarters she was still processing their conversation about divine intervention and arranged marriages, but her thoughts scattered when she saw Lothar standing in the hallway, his attention fixed on a woman walking away. One of the Brides, dressed in an elegant gown that flowed softly around her curves. Blonde hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves, and everything about her screamed refinement and breeding - exactly the type of woman who belonged in this place.
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her makeshift outfit, suddenly conscious of her tangled hair and dirty clothes. A hot knot formed in her stomach as she realized how much it bothered her to see him looking at another woman. When had she started thinking of him as hers? The possessive feeling caught her off guard - she’d spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, building walls to protect herself. Yet somehow this giant of an orc had slipped past her defenses with his gentle touches and protective nature.
The woman disappeared around a corner and he turned, his face lighting up when he saw her. The knot in her stomach loosened slightly at his obvious pleasure, but the seed of doubt remained - how could he want someone like her?
She forced a smile as she moved closer to him, trying to squash down the jealousy. I have no claim on him , she reminded herself firmly. Yet her treacherous heart whispered otherwise. The way he looked at her made her feel precious, cherished - feelings she’d forgotten existed.
He asked what she’d learned from Jessamin, an odd look on his face, but he relaxed when she told him she didn’t have any answers yet. To her delight, he also agreed to stay with her.
“Then let’s go explore,” she said, taking his hand. “Jessamin mentioned there’s a library here. She thinks it might have some answers, but I’ll need your help with the books since I haven’t learned to read your language.”
His expression flickered for just a heartbeat, so briefly she almost missed it. Something like pain crossed his features before his usual warm smile returned.
“Of course I’ll help,” he said, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek. “Anything you need.”
The sincerity in his voice made her chest tight. Here was this powerful male offering to sit and read books with her, just because she asked. No demands, no conditions - just simple, unconditional support.
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning into his touch before she could stop herself. His palm was warm against her skin, and she found herself wanting to turn her face into his hand, to press closer. The stone corridor suddenly felt warmer than before.
“There’s something else,” she said, focusing on a spot just past his shoulder. “Jessamin suggested that while we’re here, we should…” She swallowed hard. “She thinks we should pretend to be mated. To avoid complications with the other Brides.”
“Pretend?” he asked.
She could feel his gaze on her, but couldn’t meet his eyes.
“She didn’t want anyone… bothering you. Since I’m not a Bride. It’s just a ploy to avoid questions. She said we’d only have to keep it up until I leave. If that’s even an option,” she added hastily. “It’s just for a few days, probably.”
The silence stretched out for a long moment, and the heat of his body seemed to intensify. When she finally dared to look up, his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched.
“Do you not want that?” he asked finally, the words clipped.
“What? No, that’s not-”
“Are you afraid?” he asked, his expression hardening.
“No! Of course not. It’s just -”
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, his voice dropping to a deep growl. “Ever.”
“I know,” she whispered, and the truth of it reverberated through her bones. She did know that - he’d never harm her, never push her into something she wasn’t ready for. The thought of pretending made her pulse race, but it wasn’t from fear.
“Is the thought of pretending to be mine so terrible?” he asked hoarsely.
“No,” she answered immediately. “Quite the opposite. I… enjoy spending time with you. Being with you. Pretending won’t be a hardship.”
“Not a hardship,” he repeated, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
“After everything I’ve been through, trust doesn’t come easily. Not for me. But you…” She paused, swallowing hard. “I trust you.”
He studied her, then finally nodded. He cupped her face again, thumb brushing across her heated skin. The gentle touch sent tingles down her spine, and this time she leaned into it.
“Then it would be an honor,” he murmured, his green eyes intense as they held hers. Her heart hammered against her ribs as his thumb traced the line of her jaw.
“Thank you,” she managed, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a tiny smile.
“This way, I think.” He gestured towards the hallway. “If we’re going to the library.”
“Right.”
She tried to focus on their surroundings, but it was hard to think of anything other than the warmth of his palm at her back, and his solid presence at her side.
The library turned out to be larger than she’d expected, with floor-to-ceiling shelves and comfortable reading nooks scattered throughout. Shafts of afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching dust motes that danced in the air.
He sat beside her at a heavy wooden table, translating passages. His deep voice wrapped around the unfamiliar words, making them sound like poetry. She tried to focus on the text, searching for any mention of travelers between worlds, but found herself repeatedly distracted by his presence.
Their shoulders brushed as he leaned closer to examine an intricate illustration, and the contact sent a shiver through her body. Her breath caught and when she glanced up, she found him watching her with those intense green eyes. Heat flooded her cheeks and she quickly looked back at the book.
“This one mentions the goddess bringing gifts to her people,” he translated, his finger tracing the lines.
She shifted in her chair, hyper-aware of every point where their bodies almost touched. The library felt smaller somehow, more intimate, despite its grand size. Every time their hands accidentally met reaching for the same page, electricity crackled between them.
Hours passed as they pored through volume after volume. While the books contained fascinating histories and legends, none specifically mentioned anything similar to her arrival. But she found she didn’t mind the lack of progress as much as she should have. Each shared look, each accidental touch, each moment of charged silence built upon the last, creating an undercurrent of attraction that made it hard to concentrate on anything else.
An elderly woman in a simple gray dress appeared between the shelves, bobbing a quick curtsy.
“Lady Jessamin sent me to offer my assistance in preparing for dinner, my lady. I have clothing waiting at the bathhouse.”
She thought of her borrowed clothes, and the elegant woman she’d seen earlier. A proper bath and clean garments would be welcome. She nodded and rose, but when he rose as well, the maidservant cleared her throat.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but males aren’t permitted in the bathhouse at this hour.”
She glanced uncertainly at him. The thought of being separated from him made her uncomfortable, even within the safety of the convent walls. His jaw tightened, his protective instincts visible in the tension of his shoulders, but he only looked at her.
“It’s your choice,” he said.
She hesitated, then nodded.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “But you’ll stay close?”
He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her skin in a gentle caress that made her lean into his touch. After a moment, he nodded, though his reluctance was clear in his eyes.
He followed them down a winding corridor to a set of intricately carved doors.
“This is as far as you may go, sir,” the servant said politely but firmly, and he gave an abrupt nod.
“I will wait here.”
“If you’d care to change, I will bring Lady Jana to meet you in the small dining room.”
It was phrased like a suggestion, but it was clearly an order. He looked at her again and she managed to smile and nod again.
“Very well,” he growled, but he remained where he was until the doors closed behind them. The weight of his gaze lingered like a physical touch, making her skin tingle even after she could no longer see him.
Behind the doors was a series of bathing chambers. The servant led her to a large, steam-filled one, scented with lavender and something more exotic. Several deep pools were carved into the stone floor, steam rising from their surface.
The maidservant helped her undress and she sank into the nearest pool, letting out a contented sigh as the hot water eased her tired muscles. While she enjoyed the luxury of a proper bath after days of cold stream water, her thoughts kept drifting back to Lothar. She already missed his playful banter and protective presence.
After washing her hair with fragrant soaps, the maidservant helped her from the pool and wrapped her in soft linen towels. The woman’s skilled fingers worked through her damp hair, arranging it in an elegant style with a few small braids woven into the dark strands.
The dress they brought her was simple but beautiful - deep blue silk that flowed like water - and it fit astonishingly well. The fabric felt impossibly fine against her skin after days in Lothar’s borrowed clothes, although she still found herself missing the familiar feel of the coarse linen.
Following the maidservant back through the convent’s halls, her heart started beating faster, already anticipating seeing him again. This is ridiculous , she told herself. We’ve been apart less than an hour.
The woman led her to a small, elegant dining room with a wide window overlooking the town below. She saw Jessamin standing next to a massive orc who could only be King Ulric, but she barely registered their presence. Lothar was standing near the window, almost unrecognizable in formal attire with his hair neatly braided and threaded with small silver beads.
She was so used to his easygoing smile, his teasing, that this formal side of him took her by surprise. He looked powerful and handsome, but also distant, and her stomach knotted. But as soon as he saw her the tension in his posture eased, and then their eyes met.
The heat in his gaze made her breath catch, but along with the warmth spreading through her body was a sense of… homecoming, as if everything was suddenly right with the world. All of her fears disappeared as he came towards her. He was still her Lothar, her savior, her protector.
“You look lovely,” he murmured, reaching out to cup her face, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw, and she didn’t hesitate to lean into his touch.
“So do you,” she whispered. He raised an eyebrow.
“Lovely?”
“Handsome.” Her cheeks flushed at the admission, but it was true. “Powerful.”
“And that’s… a good thing?” he asked, and the teasing glint in his eyes was back.
“Very good,” she murmured, unable to stop her smile.
A low rumble echoed from his chest and he took a step closer.
“Careful, little valai. You’re tempting the Beast.”
The warning made her heart skip a beat, and not from fear. She could see the heat in his eyes, and the desire, but the knowledge that he’d never take advantage of her trust made her feel safe rather than scared.
“And what will the Beast do about it?”
He bent his head, his lips nearly touching her ear.
“Whatever his mate asks of him,” he whispered.
His gaze met hers, dark and intense, and the space between them hummed with awareness.
“Are you planning on introducing us?”
The deep, amused voice interrupted the moment and she blushed as she realized she’d forgotten about the other two inhabitants of the room. But as she turned to greet them Lothar rested his hand lightly on her back, and the warmth of his hand was both a reassurance and a promise.