We stay frozen like that for a long moment—bodies locked together, hearts pounding, both of us struggling to remember how to breathe.
He tilts my face up to his once we do, sealing our lips into a kiss. It's deep and toe-curling and I know he's not going to rest like he should now that we've finally cleared the air.
When we break apart, there's a gentle smile on his face. "I'm glad we finally talked."
I laugh softly. "It only took us a while."
"Worth it." His thumb strokes my jaw. "You are worth everything, Serah."
And I finally believe that.
RAKK
Six months has done wonders for my ribs.
Kaelen's wooden practice sword cracks against my blocking arm with enough force to rattle my teeth, but I grin through it, spinning away and sweeping low to catch him behind the knee. He jumps the strike easily—bastard's always been too quick for someone his size—and comes at me again with a series of rapid blows that force me back across the training yard.
"Getting slow in your old age," he taunts, golden-amber eyes bright with challenge. "Domestic life making you soft?"
I bark out a laugh and feint left before driving my shoulder into his midsection. He grunts as we go down in a tangle of limbs and wooden weapons, hitting the packed dirt hard enough to raise dust. We grapple for dominance—him trying to pin my shoulders, me attempting to flip him over—until we're both breathing hard and covered in sweat and dirt.
"You were saying?" I manage between gasps.
He shoves me off with a disgusted sound that doesn't hide his amusement. "One day your luck is going to run out."
"Today is not that day." I roll to my feet, offering him a hand up that he accepts grudgingly. My ribs protest the movement—not with pain exactly, but with the memory of pain. The soul-binding means I heal faster than I should, but old injuries still make themselves known during exertion.
Worth it. Every single time.
Kaelen retrieves our practice weapons while I grab water from the barrel near the edge of the yard. The morning sun beats down on the canyon, turning the red stone walls into shades of copper and gold. Training warriors fill the other practice rings—the sounds of combat and instruction creating a familiar backdrop that settles something restless in my chest.
I refused to give up morning sparring after the accident. Dad suggested I take it easy for a few months, let my body fully recover, but the idea of sitting idle while everyone else trained made my skin crawl. Serah understood. She always understands now that we actually talk to each other instead of dancing around assumptions and fear.
"Ready to face Mother's interrogation?" Kaelen asks, splashing water over his face and neck. His black hair is plastered to his skull with sweat, warrior's topknot barely holding together.
I grimace. "Is she still asking about?—"
"Constantly." He cuts me off with a knowing look. "She's convinced Serah is hiding something. Same way she knew about Lola before Zurkar confirmed it."
Warmth spreads through my chest at the thought. At what Serah and I have been keeping close for the past week since Zurkar pulled me aside after examining her for a persistent cough. Not a cough at all, as it turned out. Just her body adjusting to the changes happening inside.
"Your father going to be there?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
Kaelen snorts. "When isn't he if our girls will be there? They've got him wrapped around their fingers these days. Ever since he realized how much Lola means to me, he's been..."He trails off, searching for words. "Softer, maybe? Or at least making an effort with the human women."
"Gorrak making an effort." I shake my head in mock disbelief. "Never thought I'd see the day."
"You and me both." Kaelen tosses the practice weapons into the storage rack. "But Serah won him over somehow. I think it was when she helped him with that infection in his shoulder last month. Refused to let him wave her off, just marched right up and started treating it like his opinion didn't matter."
Pride surges through me. That's my mate—too stubborn to let ancient prejudices dictate who deserves care. She's been working with Zurkar and Lola in the healing chambers regularly now, her knowledge of human anatomy proving invaluable when treating other rescued humans who've joined the clan over the past months.
Somehow, she's also started to win my dad over. He's been more relaxed, more patient since I've mated. I think he's happy that I'm happy, too. I can tell he likes Serah, though, and I'm hoping their relationship will only strengthen.
It’s helped ours, too. After we handled the aftermath of everyone learning of my power—and pledging their loyalty to an objectively powerful future Chieftain—we agreed that I wouldn’t step into the role yet. I still want time with my mate and to have children. My father isn’t ready to step aside, and it’s not uncommon for that role to only be passed down through death.
Which means I get plenty of time with Serah.
We head toward Kaelen’s parents' dwelling at an easy pace, letting the canyon breeze cool our overheated skin. Other orcs call out greetings as we pass—some respectful, others teasing about whatever gossip is currently circulating. The clan has settled into comfortable normalcy over the past half year. No more whispers about the Chieftain's son and his human mate. No more speculation about whether I can control her properly.
