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She touched his arm, her eyes shining with admiration. “So the plan is, buy an island first, fix up the housing situation second, and then what? Take over the mines?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, but she was right, that had been where his thoughts were heading.
She laughed. “I can see it now, Tor Arquin, Mayor of Motham City.”
He shuddered. “I’d hate that. I’m no Atholrose Motham. But I am thinking of shifting my headquarters here. I have a very good reason to.”
“And what might that be?” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently.
He kissed her hand and looked out the window, spying the familiar squat building of his parents’ home, with its large smoking chimney and bright green front door.
“We’re here.” He tried to sound totally cool, but inside he was shitting a brick. What if she hated his home? His parents?
Remove the chip off your shoulder, Arquin.
He’d barely raised his fist to rap on the door when it swung wide, and there were Katrina, Lucia and his parents, all lined up in welcome, with big grins on their faces. Everything was sparkling clean, the hearth swept, the place dusted, and flowers adorned the big heavy wooden table in the center of the room. It looked… It looked like home. The home he’d grown up in, and the life that had shaped him.
A deep feeling of pride made his heart swell in his chest.
Yes, he was proud to introduce Shona to his home, his clan, his traditions.
His parents.
As his mate.
Tor stepped forward and put his big arm around Shona. “Mom and Dad, meet Shona, my mate. Shona, meet Lena and Brian, my parents.”
As Shona stepped forward, his mom held out her hand in a formal gesture, but Shona simply ignored it and kissed her on both cheeks instead. “Thank you for your son, Lena,” she said softly, which made Tor choke up.
There were tears shining bright in his mom’s deep green eyes too as they drew apart.
And when Shona went and hugged his dad, he clearly didn’t know where to put his hands. He gave Tor a goggle-eyed grin over Shona’s shoulders.
And a huge thumbs up.
After they’d eaten a delicious meal of traditional roasted hock and, of course, their Dokka bread, with vegetables from Dad’s veggie patch, Tor’s mom offered to show Shona around the house.
“It’s a humble dwelling, but we’re proud of it,” Lena explained as she led Shona out of the living area, leaving the rest of the family laughing and chatting over the remains of dinner.
Shona admired the rooms that led off the main area, with their curved mud brick ceilings, inset windows with criss-crossed lead lattices and thick old glass panes.
She loved the orcish furniture, functional and solid but with good lines, and nowhere near as ornate as the griffin pieces in her apartment.
Though maybe the beds looked a bit hard.
Tor’s mom opened another door. “This is Katrina’s old room,” she said. “I don’t like to change things much.” There were pictures of what looked like orc sports women adorning every wall.
“Soccer?” Shona asked.
“Yes, Kat was in the first girls soccer team we formed here.”
“Does she still play?”
“She coaches. The Orcstars team. All girls,” the older woman said proudly, then led her out and through another door. “And this is Tor’s old room.”
Shona walked around, drinking it all in to get a sense of who Tor was as an orcling. There were rock specimens set out on shelves, and pictures of famous orcs through the centuries, dressed in warrior garb. A framed collage of monster success stories hung above the bed.
“Tor wasn’t academic. It took him a while to learn to read, and he was a quiet, shy kid. And then there was the bullying.” The older woman looked pensive.
