Only One for the Orc (Claw Haven #3)

Prologue

Nick Wicker found his mate at a barbecue.

Most orcs don’t have a fated mate. For most of his life, Nick assumed he wouldn’t, either. Then a human walked into his boss’s barbecue on a cool autumn afternoon, and his life changed forever.

He was standing in the corner of his boss’s backyard, nursing a beer and half-heartedly wishing that beer affected orcs.

He had been drunk only a few times in his thirty years, and each time had included a brief period where talking to people got significantly easier.

The townsfolk of Claw Haven might be surprised to hear Nick found it hard to talk to people, what with his reputation as a charming young orc who could always be relied on for a joke.

But Nick spent most conversations desperately trying to find something entertaining to say, to the point where he usually left parties early.

He was about to make yet another early exit from that very barbecue when the gate swung open.

Nick looked up.

It wasn’t magical, like many orcs often said.

Nick didn’t feel butterflies or golden warmth.

It didn’t feel like he was coming home. He took in the new human—long skirt, hair up in a ribbon, smile just a little too tight—and felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach.

All of a sudden, he just knew. The same way he could feel fangs poking out from under his lower lip: This was his mate.

She was part of his soul. He would be devoted to her forever.

But since she was a human, she may or may not feel the same way. Judging by the way her gaze glanced over him without lingering, Nick was leaning toward not.

“Whoa,” said his coworker Wyatt, a small, stuttery orc who had stuck to Nick’s side since they’d arrived with a six-pack. “You okay, N-Nick? Y-you look like you’re gonna r-ralph all over Duncan’s f-flower bed.”

“I’m fine,” Nick said hoarsely. But he took a step away from the flower bed, just in case. “Who’s that?”

Wyatt looked over. “Th-that’s Gabby Harper’s sister! V-Violet, I think. Sh-she’s m-moving to Claw Haven. To s-support Gabby, after her husband . . . y-you know.”

Nick nodded dumbly. So she was gorgeous and selfless.

“I’m gonna . . .” Nick said. Then he walked off without giving Wyatt an actual response.

For the next ten minutes, Nick hung around the edges of Violet’s conversations, listening in.

He learned that everyone called Violet “Vi,” even though, in Nick’s opinion, Violet was objectively the better name.

She was newly employed at the local bookshop, Sweethelm Books.

The bookshop owner, an old, one-winged dragon called Chester, actually liked her, which was uncommon for him.

Although it made sense, because from what he could hear, Vi was impossible to dislike: She was sweet and kind and smart as hell.

She had been in Claw Haven for one week and was already hosting the biweekly quiz night at the Cozy Grotto Café, helping at the local food bank, and helping an elderly fae move into a new house.

“Well, people just keep asking me for help,” Vi said with a bright laugh. “What am I supposed to do? Say no?”

Yes, Nick thought, baffled. He never helped anyone with anything.

He wasn’t a dick; he just didn’t get asked.

Though if he did get asked, he would probably find a way to get out of it.

How could this beautiful, generous woman possibly be Nick’s fated mate?

She was way too good for him. He didn’t have a chance.

Nick went inside Duncan’s house and hyped himself up in the bathroom mirror, reminding himself that he was suave and smooth and voted Most Likely to Win an Oscar in the high school yearbook.

He also reminded himself not to talk about high school too much.

Apparently, that made guys who’d just turned thirty sound sad and pathetic. Or so he’d been told.

With his hair freshly combed and his shirt tucked in to hide a motor oil stain from his last shift at Orc’s Garage, Nick returned to the backyard.

Vi was talking to Chester. She was laughing, and the curl of her mouth made Nick feel like he was about to experience something momentous.

She was his mate—she had to feel something.

Even if the mate bond wasn’t as strong for humans, she had to feel an echo.

A spark. Something small that hinted at what he was to her.

Humans were weak when it came to picking up on this kind of thing, but it was rare for a mated human to feel nothing.

“I don’t like to say I hate any kind of book,” Vi said as Nick came up beside her. “But I do hate those books. If someone ever came up to me and said I was bound to them, I would run the other way.”

“Hear, hear,” said Chester, surprisingly quiet for a dragon who usually voiced all his opinions at full volume.

Nick panicked. Okay, so he couldn’t tell her yet. But he also couldn’t leave. Vi and Chester were both turning to acknowledge him, probably wondering why he’d walked into their conversation like he belonged there. So he pulled up a sleazy grin and said the first thing that came to mind:

“What?” He snorted. “Do you hate romance?”

Vi blinked at him. Her eyes were huge and brown and Nick had to stop himself from getting lost in them as she stared, surprised.

Then she smiled again, hasty and polite. “Excuse me?”

Nick waved his beer at her. “It’s fate! Fate’s romantic! I thought girls loved that crap.”

For a moment, Nick caught a flash of annoyance in her eyes. Her mouth opened, ready to snap back at him. Then her mouth closed, and the annoyance was gone, covered with that same tight smile that she’d been wearing when she walked in.

“Alright,” she said, somehow managing to balance perfectly between distanced and chipper. Like she was a waitress hearing a customer complain about the menu.

Chester sighed, his single wing twitching behind him. “What? Let him have it! I want to hear the rest of it!”

“Well,” said Vi, after a considerable pause. “Personally, I don’t think it’s very romantic to look at someone and have fate decide you’re going to love them forever.”

“What’s not romantic about that?” Nick asked weakly. He’d been dreaming about that since he was small. He’d always figured he’d never find a mate. Sometimes, after ushering out his latest one-night stand, he’d lie on his bed and dream about someone he would love immediately and without reservation.

“Because that’s not love,” Vi said lightly. “Not any kind of love I’m interested in anyway. I don’t want to just love someone. I want to like them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Haven’t you ever loved someone and not liked them?”

Nick paused. He thought of his dad, who got out of prison a while back and hadn’t bothered calling. He took a panicked swig of his beer, trying another charming grin. “Aw, come on. Who died and made you queen of romance?”

“Nobody.” Vi frowned. It only lasted a second before it was wiped clean, replaced by her customer service smile once again. “Those books just aren’t for me.”

Right. They were talking about books. Maybe that was good, and Nick still had a chance.

“Or in life,” Vi continued, shattering Nick’s hopes and dreams into dust. “But that’s just my personal taste.”

“But,” Nick said, fighting to keep his suave, charming expression in place, “what if it happened to you? Say some handsome chimera swaggers into this barbecue right now and announces he’s your fated mate, and he wants to take you away for a life of luxury on his yacht. You’re really going to say no?”

Vi paused. “If he only wants me because fate tells him so, then yes.”

“But—” Nick started.

“Since you’re such a romance fan,” Chester interrupted, straightening his mustache over his scales, “why don’t you tell us your favorite romance books, Nick? Oh, this is Nick, by the way. Since he didn’t introduce himself.”

“Vi Harper,” Vi replied, nodding at Nick reservedly. “Nice to meet you.”

She was perfectly polite. But Nick could see the hesitation in her eyes, the way she stepped away from Nick the more he spoke.

She didn’t like him, Nick realized with a deep and profound horror.

He had spent all this time dreaming about having a mate and she didn’t even like him? He had to fix this.

“Nick,” Chester prompted. “Your favorite books?”

“I . . . don’t really read,” Nick said, cold dread creeping through him as Vi avoided his gaze.

Monsters got rejected by their mates, of course.

Especially when the mate was human. Was he really going to end up alone because he screwed up his one chance at a mate?

Did she really feel nothing? Not one iota of the magic he’d felt when she walked in?

“Shocking,” Chester said dryly. He turned back to Vi. “Anywho . . .”

Vi gave Nick another tight smile and looked back at Chester.

Nick had to lock his knees so he didn’t fall back into the flower bed. Oh shit, was she seriously rejecting him? Was he going to go through all the stages of rejection sickness right here at his boss’s barbecue?

He needed to get out of there. She couldn’t reject him properly if she just disliked him, right?

A fated-mate rejection had to be big. Final.

He would retreat, lick his wounds, work out his emotions by baking a few dozen batches of scones, then find some way to make her agree to a date.

Then, after she started to fall for him, he would finally reveal what they were to each other.

But only after she wanted him. Really, truly wanted him—none of the one-night-stand stuff Nick had been doing his whole life.

“I’m gonna . . .” Nick mumbled. He turned to go and promptly spilled his beer all down Vi’s skirt.

“Shit!” Nick bent down, but Vi was already shaking her head, patting the damp material down.

“It’s fine,” Vi said, still fixing him with that strained smile. “Seriously, it’s fine. You can go.”

Nick shrank back. He loomed over almost everybody here but suddenly felt two inches tall.

“Sorry,” he said, shooting her a wry grin that he didn’t feel in the slightest. Then, partly because her full name was better and partly because it was always funnier to full-name people: “See you later, Violet.”

He would think of that night often over the next two years. But the main thing Nick would remember was the glare she shot at him as he walked out. It only lasted for a moment before Vi turned back to Chester with that neat smile. But Nick knew:

His mate hated him.

And he would do anything to change her mind.