"I noticed." She's smiling though, soft and sated and so beautiful. "Wow. That was?—"
"Worth the wait?"
"Definitely worth the wait." She runs her hands down my back, tracing the lines of my tattoos. "Though maybe next time we could try an actual bed? This table is not comfortable."
"Next time?" I grin down at her. "Little baker, we're not even close to done tonight."
Her eyes widen. "We're not?"
"Not even close." I pull out carefully, ignoring her small sound of protest, and scoop her up into my arms. "Now I'm taking you upstairs to my apartment, where I have a bed specifically reinforced to handle my weight, and I'm going to show you what it means to be claimed by an Orc."
She shivers against me, but there's heat in her eyes. "That sounds like a threat."
"That's a promise."
I wake before dawn,a habit ingrained from years of getting to the butcher shop early to receive deliveries. Quinn is curled against my side, her small body tucked perfectly into the curve of mine, her head resting on my chest. Her hair is a wild tangle, her lips are swollen from my kisses, and there are bite marks on her shoulder that make every possessive instinct in me roar with satisfaction.
Mine.
I'm careful not to wake her as I slip out of bed and pull on my pants. She needs the sleep after last night—after the multiple rounds that left us both exhausted and satisfied. I head downstairs to my shop, intending to get an early start on breaking down the hanging beef in the walk-in.
But as I pass through the shared alley, I notice something that makes me stop cold.
There's a new notice taped to Quinn's back door. Another legal document from that corporate bastard who thinks he canforce my mate out of her bakery. I rip it down, scanning the contents, and my vision starts to go red around the edges.
Thirty days. He's giving her thirty days to vacate or pay triple the current rent.
My hands crumple the paper as rage floods through me. This human thinks he can threaten what's mine? Thinks he can force my mate from her territory? Thinks he can cause her the kind of breakdown I witnessed yesterday?
Absolutely not.
In Orc culture, when you claim a mate, her battles become your battles. Her enemies become your enemies. And this corporate developer just made himself my enemy.
I head back upstairs, moving quietly through my apartment until I reach my office. I pull up the business registration for Quinn's building on my computer, memorizing the developer's name and the address of his corporate headquarters downtown.
Then I start making calls.
My cousin runs a construction company that specializes in "persuasive" negotiations. My brother works in the city planning office and owes me several favors. My uncle manages a network of traditional Orc businesses throughout the city, many of which have been fighting similar corporate takeovers.
By the time the sun is fully up, I've assembled what humans would call a war council and what Orcs call a perfectly reasonable response to a threat against our family.
"Lanek?" Quinn's sleepy voice comes from the bedroom doorway. She's wearing one of my shirts, which falls to mid-thigh on her small frame, and her hair is even more disheveled than before. She looks absolutely perfect. "What are you doing up so early?"
I save the spreadsheet I've been building, a comprehensive breakdown of the developer's business holdings and potentialvulnerabilities,and turn to face her. "Making breakfast. You need protein after last night."
She blushes beautifully, padding across the room to lean against my desk. "I'm pretty sure I got plenty of protein last night."
"That was different." I pull her into my lap, unable to resist touching her now that she's awake. "That was pleasure. This is fuel."
"You're being weird." She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Weirder than usual, I mean. What's going on?"
I consider lying. Consider keeping this from her until it's handled. But she's my mate, and she deserves honesty.
"That developer left another notice on your door this morning. Thirty days to vacate or triple rent."
All the soft sleepiness disappears from her face immediately, replaced by stress and fear. "What? No. He can't—I need more time than that. I need to find a lawyer, need to?—"
"You don't need to do anything." I cup her face in my hands, making her look at me. "I'm handling it."
