The celebration that erupts when we announce the Council's decision to the rest of the office is unlike anything I've ever experienced in a corporate environment. Someone produces several bottles of cheap champagne from a filing cabinet, and Sandra from HR has apparently been stress-baking for the past three days because she emerges from the break room with a cake decorated with what appears to be a frosting rendition of Knox breaking down the boardroom door. The entire team crowds into the main office space, raising plastic cups and cheering witha enthusiasm that feels genuinely earned after everything we've survived together.
I find myself passed from hug to hug, receiving congratulations and thanks from colleagues who three months ago were terrified of their new Orcish overlord and uncertain whether they would still have jobs by the end of the week. Now they toast to Warchief Bloodaxe with genuine affection, and several of them have started using the formal Orcish titles Knox introduced during team meetings, apparently deciding that "First Mate of the Ledger" sounds cooler than "Chief Operating Officer."
I'm in the middle of explaining the finer points of ritualistic Orcish financial presentation to a fascinated group from the marketing department when I feel a large, warm hand settle on my lower back. Knox leans down, his breath tickling my ear as he speaks quietly enough that only I can hear him over the noise of the celebration.
"Come with me. There is something I must discuss with you in private."
Something in his tone makes my heart skip a beat—not the usual warmth or the commanding authority I've grown accustomed to, but a nervous energy that seems completely at odds with the confident warchief who just faced down three ancient Orcish matriarchs without flinching. I let him guide me away from the party, his hand never leaving the small of my back as we navigate through the crowded office toward his private corner suite.
The door closes behind us, muffling the sounds of celebration, and I turn to find Knox standing in the middle of his office looking more uncertain than I've ever seen him. He seems somehow smaller, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as if bracing for impact, and his hands—those powerful hands that have torn through locked doors and cradled me with impossiblegentleness—are clasped in front of him in a posture of almost childlike anxiety.
"Knox? What's wrong?"
He takes a deep breath, and reaches into his jacket pocket. When his hand emerges, it's clutching a small velvet box in a grip so tight I'm worried he might accidentally crush it.
"I had intended to wait. I thought perhaps after the celebration, or during a more appropriate ceremonial occasion. But I find I cannot contain this any longer, and the thought of spending another moment without?—"
"Cypress Evans. My valkyrie. My strategist and my equal in all things." He drops to one knee, which given his height still leaves him nearly at my eye level, and opens the small velvet box with trembling fingers. "Will you do me the honor of making our bond permanent in the traditions of both our peoples?"
18
KNOX
The velvet box sits open in my palm, and I am acutely aware that I have never been more terrified in my existence. I have faced charging cavalry lines without flinching, negotiated hostile takeovers with rival clans who threatened to gut me where I stood, and stared down the combined disapproval of three ancient matriarchs whose collective age exceeds most human civilizations. None of those experiences prepared me for the visceral terror of watching Cypress's face as she processes what I have just asked her.
The bonding bracer gleams in the soft office lighting, its solid gold surface inlaid with diamonds that trace the traditional Bloodaxe clan pattern—a stylized axe crossed with a quill, representing the merger of our martial heritage with our newfound dominion over the realm of commerce. I commissioned it three weeks ago from the finest Orcish goldsmith in the city, a grizzled veteran of my grandmother's generation who nearly wept with joy when I explained that I intended to bond with a human woman who had proven herself worthy of our clan's highest honors. The bracer is sized specifically for Cypress's delicate wrist, designed to sit justbelow her pulse point where she will feel its weight with every heartbeat, a constant reminder of the permanent claim I wish to place upon her brilliant, beautiful, impossibly brave heart.
She has not spoken. Her eyes are fixed on the bracer, wide and glistening with moisture, and her hands have come up to cover her mouth.
"In Orcish tradition, we do not use rings as humans do. The bracer represents a bond that encompasses the entire person—their strength, their will, their capacity to stand beside their partner in all battles, whether fought with sword or spreadsheet. I chose diamonds because they are the hardest substance known to both our peoples, representing a commitment that cannot be broken by any force. And gold, because you are the most precious treasure I have ever claimed, worth more to me than all the wealth I have accumulated across three decades of financial conquest."
Cypress lowers her hands from her mouth, and I see that tears are streaming down her cheeks in silver tracks that catch the light.
"Knox. You ridiculous, wonderful, completely impossible man."
She launches herself at me with such force that I nearly topple backward despite my size, her arms wrapping around my neck and her body pressing against mine with desperate urgency. I catch her automatically, my free arm closing around her waist while I struggle to keep the velvet box from tumbling to the floor, and then her mouth finds mine in a kiss that communicates everything her words have not yet managed to express. She kisses me like I am oxygen and she has been drowning, like I am the answer to every question she has ever asked, like she has been waiting her entire life for this moment without knowing what she was waiting for.
"Yes," she gasps against my lips when we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard. "Yes, absolutely yes, a thousand times yes. Put that beautiful thing on my wrist immediately before I lose my mind entirely."
My hands are shaking as I extract the bracer from its velvet nest, and I have to pause and take several deep breaths to steady myself before attempting the delicate work of fastening it around her slender wrist. She holds her arm up to admire it, turning her wrist this way and that, and the sight of my clan's symbol permanently adorning her body sends a surge of possessive pride through my entire being that is almost overwhelming in its intensity.
"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Almost as beautiful as you are, kneeling there looking like you thought I might actually say no."
"The possibility had occurred to me." I rise to my feet, closing the distance between us until she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. "You are a creature of extraordinary value, Cypress. Any rational assessment would conclude that you could do far better than a battle-scarred Orc with poor impulse control and a tendency to resolve complex interpersonal conflicts by throwing people through furniture."
She laughs, bright and joyful, and the sound fills the office like music. "Any rational assessment would conclude that you are the most loyal, passionate, surprisingly gentle, devastatingly intelligent partner I could ever hope to find. Also, watching you throw that corporate spy through the conference room window was genuinely one of the most attractive things I've ever witnessed, and I refuse to apologize for that."
I growl low in my throat, a sound of pure masculine satisfaction, and pull her flush against my body so she can feel exactly how much her words affect me. "You are a bloodthirstylittle creature beneath that professional exterior. I find this quality deeply appealing."
"I learned from the best." She rises on her toes to press a kiss to the underside of my jaw, her breath warm against my skin. "Now. The party is still going on outside, and I believe we have some very important celebrating of our own to do."
The click of the mechanism sounds impossibly loud in the sudden silence, and when I turn back to face her, Cypress is already working on the buttons of her blouse with fingers that tremble slightly with anticipation.
"Allow me." I close the distance between us in two long strides and bat her hands away gently, replacing them with my own much larger fingers. "I have fantasized about unwrapping you in this office since the first moment I saw you sitting at that conference table, looking at me like I was simultaneously terrifying and slightly ridiculous."
"You were both of those things." She shivers as I ease the silk fabric off her shoulders, revealing the delicate lace of her bra beneath. "You broke down the door like some kind of financial Viking and then demanded to know who was responsible for the appalling state of the accounts receivable ledger. I had never been so confused or so inappropriately attracted to anyone in my life."
"The ledger truly was appalling. The previous administration had no respect for proper documentation protocols." I trace the line of her collarbone with one claw-tipped finger, watching goosebumps rise in its wake. "But I confess that my attention was divided from the moment I laid eyes on you. Something about the way you met my gaze without flinching, the intelligence burning in your eyes, the defiant set of your shoulders despite your obvious fear. I knew immediately that you were different from every other human I had encountered in this realm of paper and coin."
