Chapter 9 #2
“I’ll tell you what changed that game,” Torrk said, from somewhere behind me where he was doing something rude with a foam roller.
“Their goalie had a save percentage that night that was genuinely offensive. I was offended on behalf of goaltenders everywhere. That guy was not normal. I respect it, but it was rude.”
“Offensive, huh?” I tried to make a joke. “Not defensive?”
“I’m just saying—” Torrk grunted. “The Crushers might not have been better than us, but their goalie was on fire, and stopped every shot you made.”
“And in those last two minutes, we weren’t able to take any shots,” I pointed out dully. “Because we were a man down.” And why was that? “Because I couldn’t control my reactions.”
Too wild.
As if he had heard the unspoken words, Dakvaar finished his set, and sat up with a grunt. “You’re not any wilder than Bardon was his first two seasons,” he said, in the tone of someone stating a geological fact.
The gym went quiet again, but differently.
Bardon didn’t deny it. He just picked up his coffee.
“I remember,” Jord said carefully, watching Bardon. “The thing with the—”
“The thing,” Bardon agreed, with a look that closed the subject.
Torrk pointed at me with his debauched foam roller. “The point is, we’ve all got a thing. Yours just happened to be on camera during playoffs. Mine was during an exhibition game that nobody cares about, and Dakvaar’s was—”
“We’re not talking about me,” Dakvaar interrupted.
“Noted.” Torrk shrugged. “The point stands.”
I looked around the gym. Jord was grinning at the treadmill display. Dakvaar had started another set. Torrk had resumed whatever the Torrk Method required. Bardon was drinking his coffee and looking at nothing in particular.
These were my guys. They’d been my guys all along, and I’d spent months convinced I owed them a debt I could never repay, when apparently what I owed them was just showing up.
Huh.
“You’re still making that face,” Torrk observed.
“What face?”
“The happy one.” He considered. “It’s less weird now. You can keep it.”
When I rolled my eyes, I caught Dakvaar studying me. I expected him to look away, and when he didn’t, I twitched a brow at him. He considered me a moment longer, then tipped his head to one side—signaling toward the locker room—and got up to head in that direction.
I didn’t do anything so obvious as to follow him, but I finished my set, said my see you arounds to the others, and strolled toward the locker room.
Dakvaar was washing his hands, and looked up, meeting my reflection in the mirror. His dark eyes gave nothing away, and I remembered what he’d said earlier.
“Hey.”
He nodded once, his gaze not leaving mine as he rinsed.
Frowning, I stepped closer, wondering what he was trying to communicate in that silent way of his.
When Dakvaar’s gaze shifted back to his own reflection, I instinctively glanced at myself—and caught my breath. Stepping closer to the mirror, I studied the male in the mirror.
Sweaty and satisfied, yeah, but my eyes…
Have you seen his eyes?
Dakvaar had asked that, and now I knew why.
My eyes…instead of being black like his, there was a speck of green in the center of each one. Along with our Kteers, orcs’ eyes sometimes glowed green when we were caught up in some fierce emotion: rage, fear, lust—
“You found your Mate,” Dakvaar said simply, and my breath whooshed out of me.
Or Mating.
Was it possible?
I realized I was gripping the counter with both hands, likely to keep from falling over.
Mate.
Years ago—so many years ago—my older brother Korrad had found his Mate, and it had been disastrous. Two beings were never so poorly matched, but I had vague memories of those first few months, when his eyes had glowed, and he’d spoken of the unsatiable appetite for his Mate.
Was that how I’d been treating Lila?
Holy fuck, Lila was my Mate?
I’d spent the weekend coming all over her! I mean, I’d tried not to come in her, even though I knew orcs and humans couldn’t share diseases. But they could absolutely reproduce, if they were Mated, which we apparently were, so that meant—
Why are you obsessing over this detail and not on the larger picture of you just found your godsdamned Mate?
I exhaled.
Mate.
Lila was my Mate.
There is a knowing. I remembered my mother telling me that as a child, when she explained Mating to me; my Kteer would recognize my Mate, and she would know me.
I thought of the way I’d shared myself—my fears and past—with Lila, and the way she’d done the same for me. I thought of how I’d spent the last few days hyperaware of her, of her location and feelings and expectations.
A knowing.
No, this was ridiculous. We couldn’t be Mated, not after such a short amount of time. This was just lust, right? I’d fucked plenty of females, and yeah, none of them had affected me the way the weekend with Lila had, but that was just lust.
“Congratulations, T’mak,” Dakvaar murmured, drying his hands.
But I shook my head. “Don’t Little Brother me,” I muttered. “I’m not Mated.”
Dakvaar’s reflection cocked his head. “You sure?”
No, I wasn’t sure about anything. “She’s Fairbanks’ daughter. She’s a champion skater—”
“So are you,” he pointed out, unreasonably.
“I’m an axe, a weapon.” My heart was beginning to pound, and I was afraid it was in fear. “You point me at the other team and throw, full commit.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kardok.”
I was afraid I didn’t either. The metal of the counter was beginning to bend under my grip. “She’s not my Mate. She’s rich, she’s surrounded by rich people who think I’m just a primitive monster who is out of control.”
Dakvaar was frowning thoughtfully. “You sure about that?”
I shook my head frantically. “I’m not sure about anything.”
“If she thought that about you, your Kteer wouldn’t have chosen her as your Mate.”
Oh, gods below, was he right? My blood was pumping in my temples, giving me a wicked headache, and my chest was too tight.
“A princess belongs at the ballet.” I remembered what she’d said about her boyfriends. “At country clubs and gala events.”
Not in dive bars covered in sawdust, with axe marks on the walls.
She had fun there, though. And in the rain, after.
Lila had a primal, wicked side, just as I did, and I’d spent all weekend loving it. Could I also love her prim and proper side?
Love? Who the fuck said anything about love?
“Kardok.” Dakvaar’s hand closed around my shoulder, and I looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror. “Breathe.”
Oh, right. That would be smart.
He breathed with me for a minute, then nodded. “I can’t help you through this. You’re the only one who can guess the truth, and it might not be easy.”
Fuck no, it wasn’t easy!
Lila…
I closed my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to see that incriminating green glow in the mirror.
Because when I’d thought of Lila Fairbanks being my Mate, the one the gods and my Kteer chose for me? I can’t deny the fierce burst of joy which had gone through me.
But our worlds were too different, weren’t they? We could date, sure, and even fuck…but Mate?
Dakvaar’s hand tightened on my shoulder, then released me. “Good luck, Kardok.”
I heard the locker room door close behind him, and stood there in the silence, my chest aching.
Good luck.
I’d need it. Because with this terrible hope in my chest, even fearing he was right and Lila might be mine…it was all I could do to keep from chasing her down, pinning her against the wall, and claiming her again.
Mine.
She was mine in a way I’d never experienced before, some wicked way that was thanks to my cock, yeah, but also my heart and mind.
I wasn’t sure about the whole Mate thing, but I did know this: Lila’s pleasure and happiness had, at some point in the last few weeks, become my life’s goal. And I would do everything I could to achieve them.
My eyes flashed open, and I met my reflection’s fierce gaze. Pleasure and happiness. Whether that meant in the bedroom, or on the ice ensuring this exhibition skate went off smoothly.
Mate or not, I would make that happen.