Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Thea relaxed against Khorrek’s chest as he carried her towards the entrance to the tent, finding comfort in his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat despite her irritation.
Damn it. I don’t want to stop working. Don’t want to—
Another yawn interrupted her thoughts, and she finally registered the other people in the tent. Ulric. Egon. Jessamin. All watching them with expressions that ranged from curiosity to barely suppressed amusement.
Oh god. How long had they been watching? What did they see?
Egon’s scarred face held something that might have been approval. Jessamin looked pleased, delighted even. Even Ulric’s stern face had the faintest hint of a smile.
They think this is sweet—a big strong warrior taking care of his tiny fragile mate. The thought brought a wave of heat to her cheeks. She wasn’t some damsel who needed rescuing. She was a competent academic who could manage her own—
Another yawn. Longer this time.
Okay. Maybe I need a little rescuing right now.
Khorrek carried her out into the night and cool air washed over her face, refreshing after the closeness of the tent.
She looked up at him, his profile stark against the starlight, all hard angles and brutal beauty.
My orc.
The possessiveness still surprised her. She’d never been a possessive person, had never understood people who got territorial about their partners.
But with Khorrek, she wanted to put her mark on him, wanted everyone to know he was hers.
Probably the mate bond. Making me feral.
They passed tents and campfires, and warriors moving through the darkness on patrol.
Some of them stared, others looked away quickly, but all of them gave Khorrek space.
They’re afraid of him. Or at least wary.
But she’d never been afraid of him. Not really.
Even that first moment in the stone circle when he’d towered over her, massive and terrifying, she’d been more fascinated than frightened.
I must be broken. Normal people don’t look at seven-foot orcs and think ‘interesting specimen.’
But she’d never been normal. She’d always been too curious for her own good and too interested in puzzles and patterns and things that didn’t make sense.
And Khorrek was the most fascinating puzzle she’d ever encountered.
He stopped in front of a small tent, set slightly apart from the others.
“Here.”
He ducked through the entrance, bending nearly double to fit, and set her down on a bedroll that was cleaner and softer than anything they’d used on the journey.
She sat up and tried to look alert. “I should go back. There’s still so much to—”
“Sleep.” Khorrek’s tone was gentle but implacable. “The texts will be there tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Sleep, Thea.”
She loved the sound of her name in his deep voice, and she reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Will you stay with me?”
Something flickered in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “I’ll guard the entrance.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He didn’t respond, clearly struggling with something although she wasn’t sure what.
“Khorrek.” She tugged his hand. “Come here. Please.”
He resisted for a moment, then slowly lowered himself to sit beside her. Still tense and ready to bolt. She leaned against his shoulder and felt him gradually relax.
“Those warriors we passed. They looked at you strangely.”
“They fear me.”
“Why?”
A long pause. “I’ve killed their kind before following Lasseran’s orders.”
She wasn’t shocked. She’d known what he’d been trained to be.
“Did you want to?”
“Want didn’t matter. Only obedience mattered.”
“But now?”
“Now I choose.” His voice was rough. “And I choose you. Choose to help them instead of hurt them.”
“Good.” She yawned again. Couldn’t help it. “Because they need our help. All of them. And you’re going to be crucial to—”
Another yawn interrupted her.
Khorrek made a low sound. Amusement mixed with exasperation. “Sleep, scholar.”
“But I need to tell you about the binding ritual and how the lunar alignment affects the reversal sequence and—”
“Tomorrow.”
“—and the way the glyphs interact with the natural ley lines suggests that we’ll need to—”
“Thea.”
“—perform the ritual at multiple sites simultaneously which means we’ll need to coordinate—”
He kissed her. Soft and slow and thorough.
When he pulled back, her thoughts had scattered. Lost in sensation.
Cheater. Using chemistry against me.
“Sleep,” he repeated. Gentle. Final.
This time she didn’t argue. She sank down into the bedroll and let exhaustion pull her under.
Her last coherent thought was about runic patterns and lunar cycles and how they’d need to calculate the exact moment of—
She woke to silence.
Not complete silence. Outside the tent, she could hear the low murmur of voices. Footsteps. The crackle of campfires.
But inside their small space, everything was quiet.
She blinked and adjusted her glasses, letting her eyes adapt to the darkness.
Khorrek stood at the tent entrance, a massive silhouette against the faint glow of firelight. Guarding her. He never stopped. Never rested.
She knew he wanted to protect her, but it was more than that. He didn’t believe he deserved to rest. He thought that comfort was for other people.
Oh, love. What did they do to you?
The bedroll rustled as she sat up. He tensed but didn’t turn.
“You should be sleeping,” he said.
“So should you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.” She kept her voice soft. Non-threatening. “Come here.”
“I need to keep watch.”
“For what? We’re in the middle of Ulric’s camp. Surrounded by warriors. No one’s getting through.”
All she got in return was stubborn male silence so she tried a different approach. “Please? I sleep better when you’re next to me.”
That got him. He turned and came towards her with that fluid predatory grace. He lowered himself to the bedroll, but he was still tense. Still ready to leap up at the first sign of danger.
She tugged him down until he was lying beside her and tucked herself against his chest. He gradually started to relax, one muscle at a time.
“Better,” she murmured.
His arm came around her. Carefully. Like he was afraid he’d hurt her.
So gentle despite what they tried to make him.
She tilted her head back and found his mouth in the darkness, kissing him slowly.
He responded immediately, his hunger tempered with tenderness. His hand cupped her face carefully and the kiss deepened. Became more urgent. More desperate.
She found the fastenings of his armor and started working them free.
“Thea.” he said roughly. “You need to rest.”
“I need you.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“So are you. But I think we both need this more than sleep right now.”
She felt his resistance crumbling and his desire rising to match hers.
Yes. Let go. Let yourself have this.
His armor came away and then his tunic, revealing scarred skin and hard muscle. She gently traced each of the scars. Each one a story, a piece of his history.
“Beautiful,” she whispered.
He made a low sound, disbelief mixed with wonder. He didn’t believe he was worthy of admiration. But he was. God, he was.
Strong and fierce and gentle. A warrior who’d broken his conditioning to protect her. Who’d betrayed everything he’d ever known because it was the right thing to do.
My orc. My miracle.
Her own clothing came away, carefully removed by large hands that shook slightly as if he were afraid she’d break.
“I won’t shatter,” she told him. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“I know.” His mouth found her throat. Her collarbone. “But you’re still precious. Still mine to protect.”
He lowered his head, his tusks scraping lightly against the sensitive skin of her breast. She shuddered and tangled her hands in his hair.
His mouth closed over her aching nipple, his teeth grazing her gently, and she arched against him with a soft cry.
He lavished attention on her breasts, moving from one to the other until she was writhing beneath him.
His other hand skated down her body, lightly teasing the swollen folds before carefully working one thick finger inside her. She clenched around him, her hips arching against him. A second finger joined the first, stretching her, filling her, and the pressure built inside her, hot and urgent.
“Khorrek,” she gasped, “I need—”
“I know.” His voice was rough, strained. “I know what you need.”
His thumb found her clit, rubbing small, perfect circles as his fingers thrust deeper. The pressure became unbearable, a coiling spring inside her ready to snap.
And then it did.
Pleasure washed over her in a blinding wave, and he muffled her cry with a deep passionate kiss as her body convulsed. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh, hot and heavy and insistent.
“Please,” she whispered and he notched his head against her entrance, slowly working his way into her body until he was fully seated, pausing to let her adjust, breathing heavily into the darkness. Her arousal built again, hot and insistent and she wiggled impatiently beneath him.
He needed no further encouragement. He began to move, his hips setting a slow, deep rhythm that made her entire body tingle. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her, building on the aftershocks of her first orgasm.
His hands roamed her body, relearning her curves and angles. His mouth found hers again, and the kiss was different this time—deeper, more intimate, as if he were pouring all the words he couldn’t say into this one connection.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, and he hit something inside her that made her gasp.
“There?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.
“Again,” she demanded.
He obliged, hitting that same spot with each thrust, and her pleasure built again, higher and sharper this time.
She met him thrust for thrust as his speed increased, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding.
His control was slipping, his Beast rising to the surface, and she welcomed it. Wanted it.
“Harder,” she gasped. “Please, Khorrek, harder.”
He growled her name, and his control shattered.
His thrusts became powerful, almost brutal, but it was exactly what she wanted, what she needed.
She met his intensity, her nails digging into his back, her mouth clamping down on his shoulder to muffle her cries.
His knot began to swell, stretching her further, and she splintered apart, her body clamping down on him as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Her release triggered his, and he drove into her one last time, burying himself deep as his knot locked them together.
His hot seed flooded her, his body shuddering with the force of it and he muffled his roar against her shoulder.
They collapsed together. Tangled and sweating and perfect. Her mind was already drifting back towards sleep, but something was nagging at her. Something important.
The ritual. The binding. The way the glyphs—
Her eyes snapped open.
“Oh my god.”
Khorrek stirred, instantly alert. “What? What’s wrong?”
“The stone circle.” She sat up, or rather she tried to, forgetting that their bodies were still locked together. He groaned and grabbed her hips to hold her in place but she was too excited to notice. “It’s not just a portal. It’s a nexus.”
“A what?”
“A convergence point. For the magical ley lines. That’s why Lasseran chose it as the summoning site.
That’s why I ended up there specifically and not somewhere else.
The magic is concentrated there. The prophecy said ‘She will stand between darkness and light.’ That’s not metaphorical.
It’s literal. I need to perform the reversal ritual at the stone circle.
At the exact point where the ley lines converge. I need to talk to Lyric-”
He made a sound, low and rumbling, and she realized he was… laughing.
Not loud. Not even really a laugh. More like a quiet chuckle. But it transformed his face, softening the harsh lines, and making him look younger. Almost… happy.
“What?” she demanded.
“You. Naked. Brilliant. Planning to save the world with ancient magic while impaled on my cock.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I really need to talk to Lyric. How long is this going to last?”
“Hold perfectly still,” he ordered, and she did her best to obey, even though her mind was already racing through possibilities.
He finally gave a strangled groan, then gently lifted her off of him. She immediately jumped to her feet.
“I’ll need Lyric’s help. Her ability to sense the magical currents. And we’ll need precise timing. The full moon. The exact moment of peak alignment.”
“You might want to put on some clothes first,” he said, his face still soft.
“Oh.” She looked down at herself. “Right. Clothing would be good.”
“Probably wise. Unless you want to give the warriors something to talk about.”
She grabbed her shirt and started pulling it on. “I’ve never seen you laugh before.”
The amusement faded. “Haven’t had much to laugh about.”
“Well.” She finished dressing and found her glasses. “I’m going to make it my mission to change that. You have a nice laugh. You should use it more.”
She leaned over and kissed him quickly. “Come on. Help me find Lyric. I need to test my theory.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“So? Magic doesn’t care about sleeping schedules.”
He sighed but stood up and started pulling on his own clothing. “You’re going to be the death of me, little scholar.”
“Probably.” She grinned at him. “But what a way to go.”
Another almost-laugh, quickly suppressed, but she’d heard it. Felt it.
Good. He deserved all the happiness he could get. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the tent entrance.
Outside, the camp was quieter. Most of the warriors had bedded down. Only a few sentries remained on patrol.
She ignored the surprised looks and the raised eyebrows. She had a theory to test. A ritual to plan. And a world to save.