16. Brovish
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
brOVISH
By midday, the school visit preparation had consumed everyone.
We sat in the conference room, going through logistics.
Krem had created a schedule with fifteen-minute increments.
“They’ll need more time,” I insisted.
Krem shook his head. “Fifteen minutes is the optimal amount of time.”
“It isn’t. It’s—”
“This is an organizing fight,” Drogar said. He tipped his chair back so far, he was going to topple to the floor. “Everyone believes they have a better system.”
“Do they?” I asked.
He paused, studying Krem’s schedule. “Perhaps.”
Traig had reviewed safety protocols on his tablet for the third time, reciting them aloud. Greth had wisely disappeared.
Laina stood near the window with her own tablet, making notes.
I worked on how to arrange the space so the children could observe safely without causing stress to them or the creatures.
Every time Laina shifted her weight, I noticed. When she reached up to tuck hair behind her ear, my hands remembered the softness of it. Professional distance required not thinking about how her mouth had tasted, but despite trying to focus on my work, I could only think about her.
“What about the bloomback?” she asked, not looking up from her tablet. “The color changes might fascinate the children, but I’m concerned about overstimulation.”
I got up and walked over to where she stood. “Iris handles groups well. She changed colors for the adoption fair two months ago and remained calm throughout.”
“How many people attended?”
“Thirty, maybe more.”
Laina made a note, her stylus moving across the screen. “We’ve got twenty-five children coming, plus teachers. That should be manageable for her then.”
I stood close enough to see what she was writing.
She glanced up at me, giving me a sweet smile.
“The fizzlings are a definite yes,” she said. “The children will love their static discharge, and Drogar has worked out a grounding technique that’ll keep them from being zapped.”
“He’s doing a great job.” She glanced up, and whatever she saw on my face made her breath catch. “We should finalize the list.”
“We should.”
She looked back at her tablet, but I caught the small smile she was trying to hide.
We returned to work, but I tracked how she checked her phone often, her expression tightening before smoothing out again.
Her mother must be sending more texts.
“Brovish,” she said after another phone check, “what do you think about respiratory rates in vellicharms during transport?”
The question pulled me from watching her worry her bottom lip.
“I think you’re asking because you already know the answer and want confirmation,” I said.
“Maybe.”
“Their breathing stays steady unless they’re severely distressed. Duchess Filandra’s baseline is twelve breaths per minute. If that had increased above sixteen during transport, we would’ve intervened.”
She made a note, nodding. “That matches what I found. Thank you.”
“You didn’t need me for that.”
“I wanted your opinion anyway.” She met my eyes directly. “Your creature knowledge is better than mine. I trust it.”
With orcs, trust was earned through years of shared labor. She’d given it to me in weeks, and I didn’t know what to do with the weight of that except carry it carefully.
Before I could respond, Drogar rose from his chair. “If the school meeting is finished, the transport crates need your approval, Brovish, before I load them.”
I went to help him, but I felt Laina’s attention follow me out the door.
The day continued with stolen glances, brief touches, and constant awareness.
By the time we’d finished preparations, I knew exactly how many times she’d bitten her lower lip (seven), how many times our hands had brushed reaching for the same supply (three), and how many times I’d caught her watching me when she thought I wasn’t looking (at least six, possibly more).
I should probably stop counting.
I wouldn’t.
By the time evening arrived, everyone else had gone home and the facility was quiet.
I found Laina in her office, pacing. Three steps to the window, turn, three steps back to the desk. Her phone sat face up on her desk, its screen dark but clearly guilty of something.
“How many texts?” I asked from the doorway.
She stopped mid-turn. “Three. No, four. She’s gearing herself up and wants to know about proper facilities and whether I’m being sensible about my work hours.”
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing yet.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know how to explain this place to someone who’s never chosen anything that didn’t fit neatly into her idea of acceptable.”
“Then don’t explain it. Show her the twins standing by their mother.
Cooper flying for the first time since he was injured.
Duchess Filandra’s regal contempt for breakfast timing.
” I tugged her into my arms and curled forward to rest my chin on the top of her head.
“Show her that you belong somewhere you chose, not somewhere you inherited.”
She rested her hands on my chest. “What if she doesn’t see it the way I do?”
“Then she’s wrong.” I covered her hands with my own. “You’ve built something here. Whatever your mother thinks doesn’t change that.”
Laina’s eyes searched my face. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not, but it’s worth defending.”
“What are we defending exactly?”
“This.” I slid my fingers to the nape of her neck. “Whatever this is. Whatever it’s becoming. Something I want to keep.”
She rose on her toes, and we kissed.
It started slow. I angled her head and deepened it, tasting tea and want and the small sound she made when I turned and pressed her back against the desk.
Her hands slid from my chest to my shoulders, gripping hard. I wrapped my arm around her waist and lifted, settling her on the desk edge. She made a small sound of surprise that turned into something else when I stepped between her knees.
This wasn’t the rushed discovery of yesterday. This was deliberate. A choice we were both making with clear minds and open eyes.
Her fingers found my hair, tugging me closer, and I kissed along her jaw to the spot beneath her ear that made her breath hitch. My tusks grazed her skin and she shivered.
“Brovish—”
“Yes?”
“We’re in my office.”
“We are, and a nice office it is.” I kissed her throat. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not.”
Her legs wrapped around my hips, pulling me flush against her, and rational thought became a distant concept. My hands slid from her waist to her thighs, where I traced patterns that made her squirm.
She pulled my mouth back to hers, kissing me hard. Her hands moved from my hair to my shoulders, then lower, tracing muscle through my shirt.
“This is better than I imagined.”
“You imagined this?”
“Since yesterday? Constantly.”
I kissed her again, deeper, pouring every unspoken thing into it.
Mine.
She arched her body against me, her hands sliding beneath my shirt.
A loud crack split the air outside, followed by a secondary thump that rattled the window.
We both froze.
“Was that—” Laina started.
Another crack. Then Drogar’s voice, distant but much too delighted. “Again. Do it again!”
I closed my eyes. “The fizzlings.”
“What are they doing?”
“Discharging into posts we installed for this purpose.” I stepped back, and she slid off the desk. “It sometimes creates an arc effect. Drogar finds it entertaining.”
A third crack echoed, louder this time, and the lights in the office flickered.
“We need to make sure they’re alright,” she said.
“We do.”
She smoothed her shirt, tucked her hair behind her ears, and looked up at me with an expression caught between frustration and laughter. “Your timing is terrible.”
“It’s Drogar’s timing, technically.”
“I’m blaming you anyway.”
Another crack rattled the building, and I offered her my hand. “We should separate them before they overload something critical.”
“Like the grid?”
“Or Drogar’s enthusiasm.”
She took my hand, her fingers weaving through mine as we headed for the door. Before we reached it, she stopped and rose on her toes, curling her finger to lower my head so she could kiss me once more. Quick but thorough.
“Tomorrow?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.”
Her smile brightened. “Sounds like a claiming to me.”
“Is it?”
“Maybe.” Her thumb brushed across my knuckles. “If you’re asking.”
“I am.”
“Then yes.”
She left ahead of me, and I stood in her doorway watching her go, feeling the echo of her yes settle in my bones.
Once we’d made sure the fizzlings were alright, plus Drogar, Laina left for the day with Sofia.
I walked to my office and pulled out my notebook, laying it on my desk and opening it to a clean page, grabbing my pen.
She looked at me tonight like she wasn’t afraid of what comes next, I wrote. I hope I can be worthy of that.
I closed the notebook and leaned back in my chair, letting the feeling settle.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Laina. My mother just confirmed her arrival time. 2pm Friday.
I stared at the message, then added one more line to my notebook entry.
Friday will determine if what I’m building with her can survive someone trying to tear it down.
I had two days to prepare, and I’d already started.