Chapter 10 #2
Sofia sat pressed against my side, watching all of it with an expression I was coming to know well—the one she wore when something moved her, and she didn’t want it seen.
I put my arm around her, and she let me.
This was nothing like any bus ride I’d taken in four seasons with this team, and I loved it.
By the time we reached Denver, it was like we were all more energized just by having Rosa with us, and the team was laughing and calling jokes back and forth—all of them watching their language, which was amusing—and seemed ready to take on the Amber Avengers.
Lila had driven separately, her own vehicle already parked in the reserved lot when our bus pulled in, and she was waiting at the players’ entrance with a smile.
Kardok approached her with a huge grin, lifting her off her feet in a kiss, although they’d only been separated two hours before, and then settled her against him as they both turned to me.
“Owner’s box,” she said, before I’d even asked. “Private elevator. No one gets up there who isn’t cleared by me personally.” She bent slightly to hold Rosa’s gaze. “I have popcorn up there with your name on it, little one.”
Rosa’s eyes went round as saucers, and just like that, my kitling—no, my Mate’s daughter, not yet mine by anything but the fierce want in my chest—towed Lila toward the elevator, chattering about dolls and popcorn in the same breath.
Sofia lingered a moment longer. I caught her hand, pressed my mouth briefly to her knuckles, tasted the nerves still humming under her skin. “You will be safe. You will be seen, but only by me.”
She didn’t understand what I meant. I didn’t explain. I simply held her gaze until some of the tension went out of her shoulders, and then I let her go, and watched Lila lead them both away, up out of sight, into the box no opposing fan or roaming camera would ever find.
I couldn’t see them from the ice, but I didn’t need to.
I knew exactly where in that building they sat—up and to my left, behind glass, rows back from where any stray puck or flying body could reach—and some new, orderly part of my mind kept a small portion of itself pinned to that location the entire game, the way a male keeps track of true north.
The Avengers were fast. Faster than our scouting reports suggested, their top line skating with the kind of chemistry that only comes from years together, and for the first five minutes of the first period they tested our zone hard, probing for weakness the way predators probe a herd.
They did not find one in me.
I planted myself in the crease Torrk’s back depended on and made myself into precisely what the Bramblewood sports desk had nicknamed me two seasons ago: the Wall.
Their first winger came in fast along the boards, thinking speed alone would get him past—I met him with my shoulder and he went down hard, and stayed down a beat longer than pride allowed before hauling himself up.
Second period, a scramble in front of the net—three bodies, a loose puck, Torrk half-blind behind the scrum—and I put myself between all of it and my goalie, took a stick to the ribs I’d feel tomorrow, and cleared the puck up the boards before anyone in white could touch it.
Bardon, from center ice, threw me a look that was as close to open approval as he allowed himself mid-game.
Midway through the second, Jord found a gap I’d opened and buried it top shelf, and the small traveling knot of Terrors fans behind our bench made more noise than a group that size should have been capable of.
I did not look up at the glass. I did not need to. I could feel it; the focused attention of my Mate, watching me do the one thing in this world I knew how to do without hesitation.
We won, three to one.
Kardok added the third in the final minutes, an insurance goal nobody needed but everybody wanted, and the locker room afterward was as loud and profane as it always was after a win over a team that outspent us by so much.
I showered fast, dressed faster, and didn’t fully exhale until I came around the corner of the corridor and saw her—Rosa rubbing her eyes sleepily in someone’s spare jersey, and Sofia on her feet, already moving toward me before I’d even cleared the doorway.
She reached for my hand at the same time I reached for hers, and we fit together like we were made for each other. I suppose we were.
The celebrations continued through the food, then we piled onto the bus once more. Denver was the only game where we could drive home after, and that was only a few times a year. I wasn’t the only one who was looking forward to my own bed, no matter how late we arrived.
And not only because Sofia was going to be in it.
Sofia
It was…incredible to feel a part of something bigger than myself.
I’d purchased a Teal Terrors hat—and I’d worn it today, although Lila had promised no one could see us up in the windowed box—but that had only been to fit in with the people of Bramblewood.
Tonight, cheering for the team, even though they couldn’t hear, and jumping up and down in excitement with Lila and her father and Rosa each time we scored… ?
It had felt like…like belonging.
Like home.
I was still smiling as I followed Dakvaar down the aisle of the bus.
Rosa had fallen asleep on his shoulder, curled up there as if she was right where she belonged.
The males of the team were yelling and high-fiving each other, reenacting various plays…
but each one of them lowered their voice as soon as they saw sleeping Rosa, nodding respectfully to me as I passed.
They’d treated her like a mascot, and perhaps she’d brought them luck tonight.
Dakvaar led us to the very back of the bus, the largest seats.
He slid in beside the window, arranging Rosa on his lap so her head was pillowed against his arm and her legs spread toward mine.
I sank gratefully beside him, glad for his warmth and support, but also happy I had some space to stretch out my legs.
As the bus rumbled from the parking lot, Dakvaar asked in the darkness, “Did you have fun?”
“It was amazing.” I groped for his hand. “You were amazing.”
I could feel his pleasure at my praise, the way he hummed just slightly. “And I was right—the guys all loved having you with us.”
Ah.
They will love you, Sofia, because I do.
It had been running through my mind all day, a simple phrase I hadn’t been able to ignore, but kept prodding at carefully.
He hadn’t quite said the words, but…neither had I.
Love.
It was too soon to fall in love with Dakvaar, surely? He’d rescued us, he’d cared for us. He treated me like a queen and gave me more orgasms than I could count. But that wasn’t enough to love someone, was it?
I swallowed, dropping my attention to his hand, taking it in both of mine, tracing the lines of his palm with my fingers.
“Earlier today.” I swallowed. “In the hallway. You said…”
They will love you, Sofia, because I do.
He must’ve followed my line of thought because he froze, and I was coming to realize that when Dakvaar reacted like that, it wasn’t calmness. He was fighting for control.
So I twined my fingers through his, holding my breath and wondering what, exactly, I wanted his answer to be.
Finally, he exhaled softly.
“I love you, dkaar.” Beloved. He shifted, then dropped a kiss on Rosa’s head. “And I love your daughter.”
To my surprise, I flinched, then sucked in a sharp, surprised breath even as I pulled my hand from his. It was one thing to declare his feelings for me, but Rosa too?
You’re not surprised, are you? His actions have spoken loudly.
Right, but…
But the last man to tell me he loved me had been Anthony.
In the darkness came his soft murmur. “Sofia, I’m sorry if my words bothered you. I have no right to claim feelings for you, and even less to do so for your daughter. If it would make you feel more comfortable, we can forget—”
“No,” I croaked, reaching for his hand again, pulling it against my stomach, bending over it as if that would help hold in the pain. “No.”
He loved me.
He loved me, and when he saw that made me uncomfortable, he offered to take it back. Not because it wasn’t true, but because he didn’t want me to feel discomfort.
My throat was thick with emotion, tears flooding my eyes.
Dios, Anthony had never once considered what I wanted, had he?
“Sofia, I’m sorry—”
“?Dios mío!” I sobbed, hunching further over his hand, as if that would help. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
The noise he made was somewhere between a curse and a huff. Dakvaar untangled his hand from mine, wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and pulled me against him, so my tears were muffled by his chest, mere inches from my sleeping daughter.
Knowing how good orc hearing was, I was glad to be all the way in the back of the bus.
“You—” I hiccupped, trying to draw breath to explain. “You asked about Anthony.”
He hesitated. “You told me it wasn’t any of my business.”
“If you love Rosa, it is.”
Dakvaar held me—I’m not sure how long—as the lights of Denver receded, the highway taking us southwest into the mountains. Toward home. He didn’t speak, and my crying slowed.
Finally, I felt his breath against my crown. “I do love her, dkaar,” he murmured. “If you’ll tell me, I will hold the knowledge in my heart.”
It sounded like some kind of orc vow, and I shuddered, realizing I was going to do it; I was going to tell him.
“Anthony is a powerful man, the center of a network of drug suppliers and sellers and criminals I don’t even understand. My stepfather wanted a connection to him, and made a deal. Anthony gave him what he wanted, and in return, he got to…” I swallowed and burrowed closer. “Marry me.”
I felt Dakvaar stiffen. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
I pretended not to hear his whispered “Fuck,” but straightened away from his chest just enough to rest my cheek against his shoulder and continue in hushed tones.