Page 117 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“We’re still waiting for the Council to decide,” I said. “But I notified them this morning.”

“The Council will dismiss this then. They have to.” His gaze fell on Willa again. “Welcome to the family. Truly welcome.”

My skin tightened. I wasn’t sure I could hold more happiness than now. I’d spent three years here and thought I’d found family. But watching Drogar sweep Willa into his arms, seeing Brovish’s genuine smile, and hearing Krem’s congratulations made everything different. They weren’t just accepting that I had a mate. They were claiming her as one of us.

She belonged because she’d chosen me, and I was theirs, so she was theirs too.

Sofia launched into the air and flew to Willa, her wings blurring. She landed on Willa’s shoulder and chirped, leaning against Willa’s neck.

My mate grinned, stroking Sofia’s spine.

“She’s chosen you,” Laina said, smiling.

Brovish studied our wrists. “This is wonderful.”

Krem strode in next, his eyes on our marks. “It’s amazing. I knew this would happen. I told Drogar weeks ago.”

“You did not,” Drogar said.

“I did. I documented it.” Krem tapped his clipboard. “It’s here somewhere. Week two, day three. Traig has begun arranging items with more care when Willa is present. This suggests⁠—”

“You keep a file on me?” I asked.

“On everyone. It’s part of our community record-keeping.”

“We don’t have community record-keeping.”

“We do now.”

Greth paused in the doorway. His gaze moved from Willa to me, then back. He nodded and kept walking.

“Did Greth just approve of us?” Willa whispered.

“Yes,” Brovish said. “That’s the highest form of Greth approval. You must feel honored.”

Willa leaned against my side. “I do.”

A yellow-and-pink blur shot into the room.

“No,” I said.

Nix chittered and launched himself between Willa and me. His discharge cracked through the air. The static arced between our mating marks, making them glow again.

Nix landed on the counter, looking satisfied with himself.

“He knew,” I said, staring at the fizzling.

“Knew what?” Willa asked.

“That we were bonded. Before we did. He wasn’t escaping to find freedom, he was looking for us. He must’ve thought his static would help spark our bond.”

“That’s incredible.”

Nix chirped.

We stared at each other and laughed, because it was ridiculous and perfect and wonderful.

“A fizzling played matchmaker,” Willa said.