18. Brakkus
Brakkus
Iwas on my feet.
They could insult me all afternoon. They could question Hannah, and I’d hold the leash. The second they knew she was my mate, they’d know where to cut. But they were letting my baby cry to win an argument.
There’s no leash for that.
I crossed the rug. Orsala’s arms tightened around Otto. I stood over her, put my hands out, and said nothing at all. Whatever she saw when she looked up made her arms loosen.
I took my son.
He came up against my chest hiccupping, both fists grabbing my shirt, drooling on my collarbone. The screaming dropped to ragged little sobs before I’d finished turning around.
I carried him across the room to Hannah, where she still had her hands out. I gave him to her. She searched my face for half a second. Then she gathered him in and turned for the kitchen. By the time she reached the kitchen island, my son had stopped crying altogether.
Neither of them said a word as Hannah put Otto in his high chair. Then I turned back to Nadia’s parents.
“Sit down, Brakkus,” Theron said.
I didn’t respond, raise my voice, or move. I walked to the middle of my own living room and watched them get a good look at the seven-foot-tall fighter they despised.
For fifteen years, millions of people had paid good money to feel what the Vossics were feeling from the safe side of a cage. There’s no safe side of a living room after a performance like that. Orsala’s chin came up. Theron’s hand gripped the arm of the sofa.
“We’re done here.” I picked the tabloid up off the coffee table. “You came all the way across the country to hold me accountable, yet you’ve been doing the same thing as the last nanny since you got here. He’s not a grandson to you today. He’s leverage.”
“How dare you!” Orsala said.
“You came into my house in human form,” I said, “and lectured a pediatric nurse about orc heritage.”
That landed. Theron went very still.
“Eleven generations,” I said. “Naming songs. Languages never written down. And the proudest thing your line ever did with any of it was make yourself rich, dealing with humans, while using your own kind like slaves.”
“You have no idea,” Theron said quietly, “what it cost to keep our kind safe through the centuries of hiding.”
“We all had to hide, Theron. The difference is my people didn’t put ourselves above our own kind. Yours did.”
I kept my voice low. “You won’t make Otto one of you. Not while I’m breathing. And I plan to breathe a long time.”
“And the human will teach him what, exactly?” Orsala said.
“That woman has done more for Nadia’s son in a few weeks than your bloodline has managed in his whole life. If you disrespect her again, don’t bother ever coming back here.”
The words hung in the air for several beats before anyone spoke.
Recognition crossed Orsala’s face. “You’re in love with her.”
My heart squeezed. It was true. Hannah was my mate. She was a dream come true. But the last thing I wanted was for them to know before she did. “I’m in love with my son,” I said. “Everything in this house comes down to what’s best for him. She’s better for him than you are.”
Orsala pushed to her feet. “Come, Theron.”
She snatched her purse from the side table and walked toward the front hall without looking back. Theron rose, following.
“This is not over,” he said when he passed me.
I met his eyes. “It is for today.”
His jaw tightened. Then he followed his wife out.
A moment later, the front door slammed hard enough to shake the glass.
I found Hannah in the kitchen. The baby monitor sat on the counter. She must have gone through the patio to put him down. She was at the sink washing Otto’s lunch plate.
I stepped on the pedal of the trash can, tossed the tabloid inside it, and stood there for a second.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said.
She set the plate in the rack and turned around, drying her hands on the towel. “About what?”
“That you had to see what Nadia’s parents are really like.” The adrenaline was draining out of my arms now, leaving them heavy. “I didn’t know they were coming. I’ve been avoiding them for months.”
She looked all the way up at me. “It’s fine.”
“Did Otto eat?”
“He ate the entire quesadilla and then nearly fell asleep in his chair.” She wiped a counter that didn’t need it. “Are you hungry? There’s another quesadilla in the fridge.”
She grabbed a foil-covered plate out of the fridge.
“Thank you,” I said. “For getting him out of there.”
“That’s my job.” She set the quesadilla in front of me and smiled, easy and sunny, like the morning hadn’t happened. Then she poured two glasses of iced tea and handed me one. I still hadn’t told her she was my mate.
“Were your in-laws always like that?”
“They’re usually more subtle about being snobs.” That got half a smile, but it didn’t last.
“I don’t want to make things harder between you and Otto’s family.” She looked at the baby monitor.
“They did that. Not you.” I waited until she looked at me again. “This started before Otto was even born.”
She nodded, but I could see her doing what she always did, trying to fix it. I should have told her she was my mate before we made love. I’d let things get ahead of me.
“Orsala asked me something before they left.”
“Oh?”
“She asked if I was in love with you.”
Hannah went still. “What did you say?” Her voice was full of shocked humor.
“That I love my son.”
Her face changed, just slightly. I hated that I could see that answer land like a rejection.
“It was the only answer I was willing to give her,” I said. “Because the last thing I need is for them to know the truth right now.”
She didn’t move.
I had faced cameras, arenas, men twice as mean as they were smart. None of it had ever been as hard as saying the words I knew needed to be said.
“You’re my mate, Hannah. I was trying to tell you before they arrived this morning.”
She went still.
“Our bodies know before our brains get a vote. There’s a scent. It gets into your head and doesn’t come out. It happened to me once in a banquet hall in Las Vegas, and I married her. When she died, I thought I’d never love again.”
I had to stop for a second. She was still standing across the kitchen, staring at me in shock.
“Two mates in a lifetime are extremely rare. But I know that it’s possible. It’s happened to other orcs I know of.”
She didn’t move. Her eyes had gone glassy, fixed on me.
“Your scent has been doing crazy things to me since you arrived. I thought I was losing my mind. So, I decided you had to be doing something nefarious to me on purpose.” I cleared my throat. “I hired a private investigator.”
That got her. Her mouth fell open. “You what?”
“To do another background check. I was convinced you were seducing me with chemical pheromones.”
“Chemical pheromones…” Her voice was flat, her eyes wide.
“That was the running theory.”
“What did the investigator find?” Her voice was caught somewhere between laughing and crying.
“Basically, what was already in the references from the agency. Some additional things about your family that you’ve already told me.”
She crossed her arms, her face going rigid.
“I need you to understand that being my mate doesn’t make you mine. The bond is something I feel. It doesn’t decide anything for you. You don’t owe me a relationship, and you don’t have to do anything about this now.”
Her face wobbled, and then she laughed.
“Brakkus, I… that’s. Okay. Wow.”
“Hannah.”
“…honestly, the pheromone thing alone is—I mean, we should really tell Lola. She’s going to…”
“Hannah.”
I stood, crossed the room, and caught her chin gently with one knuckle. I brought her eyes up to face me. “You’re my mate. I’ll do anything for you.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her chin trembling against my knuckle.
Then she stopped fighting it. The tears came quietly, both her hands rising to wrap around my wrist. She held on like the floor had shifted under her.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
“You’re my mate.” I pressed my forehead to hers, careful of the tusks, and breathed her in. “Whatever you decide, you will always be that for me.”
She gasped, then reached up on her toes and kissed me. Both hands fisted in my shirt, pulling like she meant to climb.
“Take me to bed,” she said. “Right now. Please.”
“As you wish.”