One Stolen Night with Her Orc by Jilli Waters

Author:Jilli Waters
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, monster romance, instalove, cozy fantasy, orc romance, one bed, mythical beings, fated mates, one night, steamy romance, open door romance
Publisher: Jilli Waters
Published: 2025-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Poppy

“I—I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for bringing Addy to me. For making sure she’s safe. It means the world to me.” I can barely hear my voice over the steady drumming of my heart in my chest. It’s going to leap out of my chest at any moment.

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do. You deserve every goodness in this world.” His voice is growly. Music to my heartstrings.

I shake my head no at his statement, my hair flipping left and right. “Your trophy is lost because of me. I owe a lot of people a lot of money. But August is going to help me find a job, and hopefully I can start repaying soon. I don’t know how much a golden stein is worth—”

“It’s worthless compared to you being safe and happy.”

Tears sting my eyes. Outside in the cold, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. When he left me at Bjorn’s three days ago, I was a puffy, red-eyed mess from all my crying. His gentleness is such a juxtaposition to his size, his growliness, and from anything I’ve experienced from any male in my life. It’s incomprehensible.

“You can’t mean that. Look what I did. I stole from you. Lost it. You had to deal with my awful stepdad. Probably paid him some obscene amount of money to make him go away. And now? You’ve brought my sister from the mainland out of the goodness of your heart? I’ll never repay all of this. I don’t even know how to put a number on any of it.”

There’s a sheet of paper in my pocket with a list of everyone I’ve stolen from for Marcus. Most everyone’s name has a number, but not Koru’s. Just a series of panicked question marks.

Koru sighs, his septum ring blowing in the wind of his breath. It makes me smile. “Come here,” he says, opening his arms to me. I step forward and fall into them, a little too eagerly. He’s so warm. His whole body is like a hot, hard board of muscles for me to get lost in.

“There’s no number,” he whispers into my hair. “No accounting to be kept. It’s water under the bridge. Or, ice in the river.” He chuckles at his own bad joke, his chest bouncing against the side of my face. I love his laugh, his stupid joke, when he smiles, and the scent of him—fire and hops and cinnamon.

“That’s a bad joke,” I whisper.

“I know, thanks. But seriously, you being here makes me so happy. I don’t deserve you or any love you may have, but I want to be deserving of it. Will you please let me be deserving of you?”

At that, I pull away to look into his warm golden eyes. Fire, honesty, desire—his eyes tell me a story I’m not sure I know how to believe. “Say it again.”

“Which part?” The edge of his lips crook up into a half smile. His tusks gleam in the light.

“The part where you say please.

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