The decision, I realized with startling clarity, had already been made.
Chapter 12
Ruka
I woke to pale morning light filtering through Jordan's lacy curtains. My mate—and she was my mate, I knew that now with a bone-deep certainty—lay cradled in my arms. Her small body molded perfectly against mine, her head tucked beneath my chin, one delicate hand resting over my heart as if to gauge its steady beat. The scent of her, of us, of what we'd done together through the long night, filled my lungs with every breath I took.
We had barely slept. All through the day and into the night we had reached for each other again and again, driven by something primal and insatiable, the pull between us growing stronger with each joining rather than being sated. Even now, exhausted as I was, my body stirred at her nearness, wanting her still.
This was what Sarsa had spoken of. What the ancient histories of my people had tried to capture in inadequate words. The mate bond wasn't just attraction or even love—it was recognition. A certainty that lived in my bones, in my blood, in every fiber of my being. Jordan was mine, and I was hers, and nothing in this world or any other could change that fundamental truth.
She stirred against me, a soft murmur escaping her lips, and instinct took over—my arms tightened, drawing her closer, as if I could shield her from everything beyond these walls.My mate. My Jordan. The fierce human woman who'd stormed into my world and set it ablaze, who stood toe-to-toe with me, who made me feel like I was finally, truly awake after years of sleepwalking through life.
Sarsa had been right. That meddling old female was always right, damn her.
Jordan's lashes fluttered, and then those beautiful green eyes opened, still clouded with sleep. When her gaze found mine, something luminous bloomed across her features—tender and unguarded—and it struck me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs.
"Morning," she whispered, her voice deliciously rough from sleep.
"Morning," I rumbled, surrendering to the need to press my lips to her forehead, breathing her in.
But morning brought more than just her warmth in my arms. Reality seeped back in like cold water, carrying with it all the tangled complications I'd been holding at bay. Jordan had built a life here—a career she'd fought for, responsibilities that mattered. I couldn't be the selfish bastard who asked her to abandon it all, no matter how desperately I wanted to keep her close.
"When do you need to be at the hospital?" The words came out strained, my chest constricting at the thought of watching her walk away, even for an hour. "Your work—I know how important it is. I can come here when you're on shift, and you can visit the village during your time off. Whatever you need, we'll make it work."
Something flickered across Jordan's face—a shadow, there and gone. She turned her head, her gaze sliding away from mine as her fingers began tracing aimless patterns across my chest. "I don't have to go to the hospital."
Confusion furrowed my brow. "You have today off?"
"No, I mean..." She drew in a breath, and I felt her tense against me. "Nadine fired me."
The words didn't make sense at first. Then understanding crashed over me, followed immediately by a wave of fury so intense it made my vision blur at the edges. "She fired you? For treating Ardin?"
"That's the one." Jordan's voice had gone tight, brittle. "Apparently I‘compromised the integrity of the hospital'by treating a non-human. Put the whole institution at risk, according to her."
"At risk of what?" The growl that rumbled up from my chest was pure predator. "Showing basic decency? Helping someone who was dying?"
"At risk of losing funding, probably. At risk of pissing off the donors who think Orcs are barely a step above animals." Bitterness crept into her tone like poison. "Nadine made it pretty clear she thinks you should all crawl back underground where you belong."
The muscles in my jaw locked tight enough to crack stone. I'd weathered my share of human prejudice—the suspicious glances, the clutched purses, the way conversations died when I entered a room—but this? Knowing Jordan had been punished for saving my nephew's life? It ignited something primal and furious in my chest.
"If I had known helping Ardin would cost you—"
"Don't." Her fingers pressed against my lips, silencing me. "Don't you dare apologize. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I'd do it a thousand times." Her eyes found mine, fierce and unwavering. "I'm not sorry I helped him. And I'm sure as hell not sorry I met you."
I caught her hand, turning it to press a kiss into her palm, breathing in the scent of her skin. "You deserve to work for someone who sees your worth. Not some narrow-minded—"
"I know." A sad smile ghosted across her lips. "But knowing that doesn't pay my bills. Student loans don't care about principles. Neither does my landlord."
She shifted, pulling back just enough that cool air rushed between us. Her arms wrapped around herself, a barrier I suddenly wanted to tear down. "Actually, something came through yesterday. An offer. From Emory University Hospital. In Atlanta."
The words hit like a fist to the gut. "An offer?"
"A job offer." She still wouldn't look at me. "Lead physician in their emergency department. The pay is excellent. Benefits are top-tier. I'd be working alongside some of the best trauma surgeons in the country."
"Atlanta." I forced the word out past the tightness in my throat. I'd heard of the city, but knew little about it.
"Four hours from Franklin. Maybe closer to five with traffic." Her voice had gone carefully flat, emotionless—the tone someone uses when they're trying not to feel too much. "They need an answer by Friday."