"You're going to take it." Not a question. A stone sinking in my chest.
"I..." Finally, she met my eyes, and the anguish there nearly undid me. "What choice do I have, Ruka? I need to work. I have obligations. And it's not like..." Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard, tried again.
"Not like what?"
"It's not like I can stay here," she whispered, and each word carved itself into my bones. "I'm an ER doctor. There's exactly one hospital within an hour of Franklin, and I just got fired from it. Whatever job I take, I'll have to leave. Whether it's four hours away or four hundred—does it really matter?"
Four hours. I couldn't stomach the thought of her being fourminutesaway, let alone four hours.
The idea had been circling my mind like a hawk since the moment she'd told me about being fired—waiting for the right moment to strike. I'd asked her the question once before, but that was when she still had her position at the hospital, when the offer had been easy to dismiss. Now, with everything stripped away, the path forward seemed suddenly, brilliantly clear.
"Come back to the village with me," I said, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "Be our clan doctor."
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating with shock. "What?"
"Come back to the village. Be our clan doctor." The words came easier the second time, gathering momentum like a river finding its course. "You said yourself you loved it there. Morg is getting older—the clan will need a healer, and you..." I reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. "I want you there. Ineedyou there."
Jordan's expression shifted like clouds across the sun—surprise melting into hope, then hardening into something that looked painfully like resignation. "Ruka, I would love that. God, I really would. The village was beautiful, and your people were so welcoming, and I..." She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. "But even if I could get out of my lease early, I have over two hundred thousand dollars in student loans hanging over my head. Medical school isn't cheap. I need a job that pays well enough to handle those payments, and I—"
"How much?" I interrupted, unable to let her finish that thought.
She blinked. "What?"
"How much do you need?"
"I... I don't know exactly. With my payment plan, probably at least eighty thousand a year just for the loans, and then I need to live, and save for retirement, and—"
"The clan will pay you five million human dollars per year."
The words hung in the air between us like a thunderclap. Jordan's mouth fell open. For several heartbeats, she simply stared at me, her expression cycling through disbelief, confusion, and something that might have been the beginning of hysteria.
"I'm sorry," she finally managed, her voice strangled. "Did you just sayfive million dollars?"
"Yes." I frowned, suddenly uncertain. Had I miscalculated human currency values? "Is that not enough? We can negotiate—"
"Notenough?" The words came out as a squeak. "Ruka, that's... that's absolutely insane. That's more than a lot of surgeons make. That's—" She pressed her palms against her eyes, laughing breathlessly. "I think I'm having a stroke. This is what a stroke feels like."
"You're not having a stroke," I said, fighting back a smile at her dramatics. "And that's what you're worth to us. More than that. You'll be the only doctor for the entire clan—on call at all hours, dealing with everything from injuries to illnesses to births. Plus, you'd have the opportunity to conduct research into Orc physiology that no human doctor has ever had proper access to."
She lowered her hands slowly, staring at me like I'd just offered her the moon on a silver platter. "Five million dollars," she repeated, as if testing the words for reality.
"We may live simply, but Orcs are very wealthy, Jordan." I squeezed her hand, willing her to understand. "As my mate, you'll want for nothing. Your student loans, your lease, whatever financial burden you're carrying—it's not a concern."
Something cracked in her expression—relief so profound it was almost painful to witness. "I've been worried about those loans foryears," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Lying awake at night doing calculations, figuring out how many extrashifts I'd need to pick up, whether I could refinance..." She shook her head, laughing again, but this time with an edge of tears. Then her expression shifted suddenly, eyes brightening. "Research into Orc physiology? What kind of research?"
"Whatever interests you. But I thought..." I hesitated. "Orc and human compatibility, for instance. Medical issues that might arise with breeding."
Curiosity brightened her features.
"We have a mixed couple in the village. An Orc male and his human mate," I continued. "They're hoping for children, but there's so little medical knowledge about hybrid pregnancies, potential complications..." I watched her carefully. "They would appreciate having a doctor who could help them navigate any issues."
She focused on me again with sudden intensity. "You're really serious about this?"
"Completely serious."
Jordan leaned forward, that familiar spark igniting in her eyes—the same fierce intensity I'd witnessed when she was elbow-deep in Ardin's wound, refusing to give up. "That would be groundbreaking. The medical literature on Orc-human hybrids is practically nonexistent—maybe a handful of case studies, most of them poorly documented. If I could actually research this properly, establish baseline data, maybe even publish findings that could help other mixed couples..." Her words tumbled out faster now, her mind clearly racing ahead. She caught herself and met my gaze with sudden wonder. "You're offering me a chance to pioneer an entire field of medicine."
"I'm offering you a home," I corrected gently. "The research is just a bonus."