Epilogue #2
I reached back and squeezed his knee. “That’s amazing, baby.”
He beamed. “I know! And Jay said he’ll come even though he hates music.”
Jay groaned from the front seat. “I don’t hate music. I just don’t get it like you do.”
“You hate it,” Milo sing-songed.
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
Korrad and I exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.
“Kitlings,” Korrad said, shaking his head.
“They’re your kitlings,” I shot back.
“Thank the gods for that.”
The drive—and ferry ride—home was a blur of bickering brothers and Korrad’s hand warm in mine, his thumb still tracing circles over my knuckles. The house was dark when we pulled up, the only light coming from the twinkling Christmas lights Jocelyn had helped me string along the porch last weekend.
Inside, the warmth hit me like a hug. The smell of pine from the tree in the living room, the faint scent of spaghetti sauce lingering in the air from our too-early dinner, the way the floorboards creaked underfoot like they were saying welcome home.
Milo disappeared into the sunroom to practice and Jay collapsed onto the couch with a groan. “I’m starving.”
Korrad nudged me toward the living room. “I’ll make sandwiches. You go put your feet up.”
I opened my mouth to argue—because someone had to be the responsible one around here—but he cut me off with a look.
“Dkaar. My turn to take care of you.”
All these months later, and I was amazed that such a declaration didn’t fill me with worry I wasn’t doing my part. That day in the lighthouse, the day I accepted Korrad’s Mate Bond, it was as if I finally understood what he’d been trying to tell me: Love didn’t keep score.
I pretended to huff as I let him steer me toward the couch. “Fine. But I’m helping with the dishes.”
“Deal.”
Jay was already half-asleep, his head lolling against the cushion, so I tucked a blanket around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He mumbled something that might’ve been “love you”, and my heart squeezed as I scooped up my laptop to work on my latest article for the Eastshore Gazette.
Korrad brought out a plate of sandwiches and a mug of tea for me, then nudged Jay awake and handed him a sandwich.
“Thanks, Dad,” he yawned. “Can I play a few rounds while I eat?”
I could see Korrad was going to agree, so I hurried to interject, “You have to read three chapters by Friday to finish the book Mr. Millan assigned by the end of break.”
“I can read before bed?” I could deny the pleading in his tone, but not the way he’d learned to open up his eyes that large and innocently. Korrad began to chuckle, and I rolled my own eyes and made a shooing motion.
With a pumped fist and a muttered, “Yes!” Jay grabbed his sandwich and ran for his room.
Still chuckling, Korrad settled beside me with his own food. The TV was on some holiday movie—something with snow and singing and a plot that made no sense—but neither of us was paying attention.
“What were you thinking about when I came in, Mate?” Korrad murmured, his voice low.
I smiled, brushing my thumb across the back of his hand. The word Mate still sent a little thrill through me. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am that I took a chance to marry a complete stranger and move across the country.”
His dark eyes softened. “Grateful because it meant finding your Mate?”
I leaned over and brushed a kiss over his ear, then his jaw, then the corner of his mouth. “Because it meant finding you, silly.”
His breath hitched, his hand tightening on mine. “Kesha—”
“And Milo’s school.” The words spilled out, my chest too full to keep them in. “And Jay’s hockey. And this home. And the way Milo’s thriving here in a way he never could’ve in Texas.”
Korrad’s expression turned tender. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. “He’s happy, Korrad. He’s not just getting by. He’s not drowning in a system that doesn’t know what to do with him. He’s learning and growing. And it’s because of you.”
“Hey.” Korrad cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. “It’s because of us. You’re the one who fought for him every step of the way. Who found the right school, the right doctors, the right everything.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“And I wouldn’t have wanted to do it without you.”
I exhaled, my forehead resting against his. “We’re pretty good at this, huh?”
His chuckle was warm against my lips. “We’re great at this.”
I kissed him then, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that promised later. The kind that made my toes curl and my pulse jump.
When I pulled back, his eyes were dark, his voice rough. “Maybe later I could show you exactly how great we are together?”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Love you, Kesha.”
And I settled back against the couch with a sigh and realized how very lucky I was. Lucky for the way Korrad’s hand fit in mine. For the way his laughter filled the house, and the way our sons bickered. For the way, when I looked at him, I didn’t just see my husband.
I saw my home.
“I love you too, Mate.”
Kesha
The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came when both boys were finally asleep—Milo with his music playing, and Jay passed out with the novel he was supposed to be reading over the break still clutched in his hands.
The Christmas lights twinkled outside the frosted window, casting shifting patterns across the bedroom floor, and the scent of pine from the tree lingered in the air.
Korrad had been restless all evening, his hands finding me every time I passed—brushing my waist, squeezing my hip, his fingers lingering just a little too long. By the time we closed the bedroom door behind us, his patience had frayed to nothing.
I barely had time to turn before his arms were around me, his mouth crashing down on mine. His kiss was hungry, almost desperate, his tongue sweeping in to claim me. I melted against him, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. His tusks scraped my cheek, his breath hot against my skin.
“Gods below, Kesha,” he growled, his voice rough. “I can’t—fuck, I need—”
I laughed breathlessly against his lips, my body already throbbing with anticipation. “Since when are you so impatient?”
His eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, that eerie orcish luminescence that always sent a thrill through me.
“Since my Mate is standing here, smelling like this,” he rumbled, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me flush against him. I could feel how hard he was, his cock thick against my stomach. “I don’t think I’ve been this out of control since the Bond first snapped into place.”
A shiver ran through me. “Ravish me, then,” I whispered, grinning. “I’ve always wanted to be taken by a fearsome orc.”