Chapter 18
Dungar
“Would you rather be slightly cold or slightly hot for the rest of your life?” Riley asked, her fingers intertwined with mine as we strolled along the edge of the sorhox pasture behind my house. Moonlight silvered her skin and turned her hair into a river of shadows cascading down her back.
“Slightly cold,” I said. “Easier to add layers than to cool down.”
“Practical answer.” She bumped her shoulder against my arm, the top of her head barely reaching my bicep. “I’d choose hot. I’ve been cold for too long.”
She wasn’t just talking about temperature, but the years she’d spent running, hiding, never letting herself get comfortable. Never letting herself feel safe.
After speculating about why Ava only showed images of orc creatures and coming up with no answers, we’d left work, agreeing not to discuss the luminook investigation tonight.
This evening was for us, for learning more about each other.
Yet her past colored everything, as did my need to protect her from it.
“Your turn,” she said, glancing up at me with a smile that made my pulse flutter.
“Would you rather…” I considered carefully, savoring the way her hand felt in mine, small but strong. “Know everything about everyone or have everyone know everything about you?”
“Oh, that’s good.” She wrinkled her nose, thinking. “Know everything about everyone, I suppose. I’ve spent too long keeping secrets to feel comfortable with the alternative.”
The fence posts cast long shadows across the grass as we walked, our boots crunching on the loose gravel.
Treelee watched us from the pasture, her big form outlined against the starry sky.
The night air carried the scent of pine from the forest and the sweeter notes of Riley’s shampoo when the breeze caught her hair.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Have everyone know everything about me.” My answer came easily. “I prefer things orderly, predictable. If everyone knew everything, there’d be no assumptions, no misunderstandings.”
Riley’s laughter rippled through the night. “Even your most embarrassing moments?”
“Even those.” I squeezed her hand. “There’s freedom in being known completely and accepted anyway.”
Her steps slowed, and she turned to face me, her eyes reflecting the moon’s glow. “Is that why you never hide your organizational systems and precise routines? You’re just authentically you.”
“My brothers taught me that,” I said. “Sel once beat up a youngling who mocked the way I arranged my school supplies. After that, Tark told me never to hide who I was to make others comfortable.”
“I wish I’d had siblings like that.” Her expression turned wistful. “Growing up as an only child meant figuring everything out alone.”
We reached the fallen log I’d placed at the perfect viewing spot where the pasture met the forest edge.
I’d positioned it here not long after we arrived from the orc kingdom, angling it to capture both the mountains and the night sky.
Riley settled onto it, and I joined her, careful to maintain the exact distance that allowed our bodies to touch without crowding her.
“Tell me something about your childhood,” I said. “Something happy.”
She leaned against me, her warmth seeping through my shirt. “My father built me a tree house when I was nine. Nothing fancy, just a platform with a roof and rails, but it was mine. I spent summers up there reading mystery novels and pretending I was a detective.”
“So you always had the investigative instinct.”
“I guess I did. I used to make my poor parents participate in elaborate whodunits I’d stage around the house. Once, I hid my mother’s favorite earrings and left a trail of clues that took them three hours to solve.”
“I bet you were thorough even then.”
“Obsessively.” She caught herself and glanced up at me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s just a word, Riley.” I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “It doesn’t hurt me.”
“Still.” Her hand found mine again. “Your meticulousness is one of the things I admire most about you. The care you take with everything, whether it’s ordering files or…” her voice softened, “or holding me.”
Heat bloomed low in my belly at the memory of her in my arms, the way she fit against me as if the fates had designed us specifically to complement each other. The way her breath caught when I touched her, the small sounds she made when pleasure overtook her.
“Your turn,” she said. “Tell me something else from your childhood.”
I gazed up at the stars, organizing my memories into neat order before selecting one. “When I was twelve, I built a perfect scale model of our family compound using nothing but clay and twigs. It took me three months, working every day after our lessons. I measured everything exactly.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“My brothers thought it was boring until I showed them how I’d included secret passages and hidden rooms. Then they wanted me to build models of everything.” I smiled. “That was when I realized my attention to detail could be useful to others, not just satisfying to me.”
Riley rested her head on my arm, her body relaxing against mine. “Did you bring the model to the surface?”
“I gave it to my youngest sister before we left. She has it displayed in her room.” The thought of home brought a familiar ache, not of homesickness exactly, but of the distance between what had been and what now was. “I should take you there someday. To the orc kingdom.”
The words slipped out before I could consider their implications. Only mates were allowed to travel to my homeland. Riley stiffened, then relaxed again, her finger tracing patterns on my palm.
“I’d like that,” she said softly. “Someday.”
Not a promise, but not a refusal either. I’d take it.
“Do you believe in fate?” I asked.
Riley was quiet for a long moment. “I used to think everything was just random chance and the choices we make. But lately…” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with something that made my heart clench. “Lately I’m not so sure.”
“Because of the mating mark?”
“Not just that.” She reached up to touch my face, her fingertips cool against my heated skin. “Because of how easily I fit here. With you. Like this is where I was always meant to end up, despite everything that happened to get me here.”
I captured her hand against my cheek, turning to kiss her palm.
“I’ve never believed in coincidence,” I said. “Everything happens according to patterns we may not immediately recognize. Meeting you wasn’t random chance, Riley. It was inevitable.”
Her eyes searched mine, looking for something I hoped she’d find. Whatever she saw made her lips part, her pulse quickening at the base of her throat. “Dungar.”
The way she said my name unraveled something inside me that had been tightly wound for too long. I leaned down, giving her time to pull away if she wanted, but she rose to meet me halfway.
Our lips met in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened into something hungrier. Her hands slid up my chest to curl around my neck, and I gathered her closer, lifting her onto my lap. She made a small sound of approval against my mouth, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
I kissed her like I was starving, like I’d been wandering lost and had finally found home.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I rested my forehead against hers, unwilling to create more distance than was absolutely necessary.
“I could get used to this,” she whispered.
The words sent hope through me. I wanted to ask her to stay, to tell her that my home would never feel complete without her in it, that waking up beside her each morning had become as essential as breathing.
But I swallowed the words, not wanting to pressure her when she was just beginning to feel safe.
Instead, I traced the line of her jaw with my thumb. “Me too.”
We remained on the log until the moon had climbed high overhead, talking about our favorite books, childhood mishaps, and dreams we’d once had. I memorized each new detail she shared, filing it away in the special category my mind had created just for her.
When we finally returned to the house, Riley’s hand still in mine, I knew with absolute certainty that whatever happened with the luminook investigation, whatever dangers still lurked in her past, I would move mountains to keep her safe. To give her a place where she could finally stop running.
That night, with Riley curled against me in sleep, I allowed myself to imagine a future, one where she wore my mating mark proudly, where our younglings played in the fields behind our home, where she never again had to look over her shoulder.
I fell asleep holding that vision close, knowing that tomorrow would bring us back to the investigation, to the reality of the unknown. But for now, with Riley exactly where she belonged, everything felt right.
“Thank you all for coming this morning.” My voice carried through the hall, where nearly every resident and employee of Lonesome Creek had gathered.
I stood at the front, a prepared presentation displayed on the screen behind me.
Riley sat on the stage to my right, her phone open to take notes, her eyes scanning the crowd with the same attention to detail I would’ve used.
“As you know, security is my highest priority here in Lonesome Creek.” I advanced to the first slide showing a map of the town with color-coded zones. “Recent events have prompted us to implement enhanced security measures throughout the property.”
I didn’t mention the luminook thefts specifically. No need to cause panic or alert our suspects. Instead, I framed everything as preventative, proactive planning rather than a response to an active threat.
“The new patrol schedule will be implemented effective immediately.” I gestured to the chart showing rotation times and coverage areas. “Each area has been assigned a primary and secondary security contact. Please familiarize yourself with who covers your zone.”