Ortai Legacy: Arrival

8.3 - Drykon Ranch (L)

A knock at the bedroom door made me jump up from Mar'kost's desk. My head swam, but even without our bond active, I knew it was him. He was finally going to give me the answer I'd already guessed. The fact that he'd run off meant he knew I'd be unhappy, and he didn't want to upset me. That was a good sign, wasn't it? Him considering my feelings was a good sign.

Only, James had pretended to consider my feelings at the start too. It wasn't until months later that his true desires came to the surface. I might've known Mar'kost for months, but I'd only met him in person yesterday.

Unless I got a massive stroke of luck, I'd be stuck on Vangorn for months—if not years. Weylan and Butcher could only help me so much. Even money could only help me so much; without an escort through town, I could lose it all to thieves or scammers. Not to mention, I knew nothing about legally claiming a dungeon—and I highly doubted Weylan's knowledge on the subject was relevant after nearly three centuries.

For so many reasons, I needed Mar'kost. I couldn't push him away over something as inconsequential as my personal boundaries when it was literally a matter of life-and-death for not only me but also any Ortai I might be able to rescue.

"Liza..." Mar'kost's voice was even softer than usual. "Please let me apologize."

Apologize? What did he have to apologize about, really? Sure, running away from my question was a little immature, but after everything he'd been through in just the last twenty-four hours, I couldn't really blame him. After all that, who would want to deal with a girl who burst into hysterics at the mere mention of physical attraction?

I opened the door so quickly that Mar'kost lurched inward. He caught himself on the door frame and straightened.

"Would you prefer to talk here, or in the living room? I can't promise Raeve won't eavesdrop, but if you would feel more comfortable there-"

I shook my head. "It's fine. Come in." I ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. There was absolutely no reason for me to be worried about being in a room with him; his oath would prevent him from physically harming me—and if it didn't work for some reason, the room was dim enough with the curtains pulled for my graxi to protect me.

Not that I was going to fight him; I was going to do whatever I had to if it meant he wouldn't leave me. I felt like I was steeling myself for war, but it wasn't anything that severe. From what I understood of intimacy, all I really had to do was not fight, and the guy would be happy enough. It probably wouldn't even be that bad with a shifter, since he didn't have the same parts as a human man. Or it could be way worse. For all I knew, shifters had a retractable four-headed member like an echidna.

Mar'kost stepped back with his hands partially raised in surrender. "Let me start by saying that I am sorry. I'm sorry for leaving instead of answering your question, and I'm sorry for scaring you. However-" He lowered his hands with a sigh. "Liza, there's no nice way to say this, but I'm not sorry for potentially finding you attractive. It's simply a feeling that I cannot control. The only thing I can control is how I treat you—and you have my solemn word that I will never intentionally harm you—physically or emotionally. If you don't believe me, I don't know what to say."

I wanted to trust him. I wanted to take him at his word. But every time I started to believe him, doubts niggled at the back of my mind. "When you say you're attracted to me-"

"Potentially attracted—I'm not entirely sure. It partly depends on your definition of 'attracted.'"

"Do you think I'm good-looking?"

"Assuming you're metaphorically referring to my non-visual senses, yes."

I crossed my arms. "Do you want to kiss me?"