Chapter 31. Doe Eyed

Chapter 31. Doe Eyed


NOLIE POV 

“Finally,” a deep voice said.

Before I could even blink, Zorak’s arms scooped me clean off the ground. My feet dangled, the dirt path swinging under me as he pulled me into his chest like I weighed nothing. His cologne, sharp and heavy with smoke and leather, hit me full in the nose.

“Put me down—” I gasped, but it was too late.

Zorak didn’t even give me warning. One second I was standing in the middle of the workers’ quarters field with Vanya, the next his arms were around me, sweeping me clean off my feet.

“How is my wife doing,” he muttered against my ear, his breath hot, his tone low and rough. “And what is she doing rambling in the fields with the hands when she should be in my bed?”

The way he said my wife made my stomach twist. My body knew it before my head did—my chest pressed against his, my legs curling slightly as if they remembered him. His coat brushed my bare arms, carrying the faint smell of smoke, leather, and horse.

I shoved lightly at his shoulder. “You didn’t even say hello. Just snatched me up like some sack of grain.”

He laughed—deep, amused, the sound vibrating right through my ribs. “A sack of grain doesn’t squirm like this.” His eyes dragged over me, shameless, burning. “I missed you, little cellist. Didn’t you miss me?”

The words landed like a dare. My mouth dried. Vanya stood frozen beside us, eyebrows raised so high they practically touched her hairline.

Zorak turned his head toward her, still carrying me like I weighed nothing. “And you—” his tone dropped darker, almost playful, almost not. “Dragging my bride out here like she’s one of the help. Should I string you up for it, Vanya? Hang you over a cross till you cry?”

Vanya blinked, color rising in her cheeks. “Oh, don’t start. I was keeping her company. We were talking.”

“Talking,” Zorak echoed, his lips twisting. “That’s what you call dragging my wife into the dirt?”

“We weren’t dragging,” Vanya snapped, then lowered her voice. “We were… investigating.”

My head whipped toward her. “Vanya—”

But she kept going, waving a hand. “Since your men don’t believe us about what happened last night—”

“Stop.” I cut her off, shooting her a sharp look, eyes wide. Don’t. Not now.

Vanya clamped her mouth shut.

Zorak caught it—the silent exchange, the sisterhood code. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at me, still caged in his arms. “Since when does my wife hide things from me Nolie?” His voice was low, soft, dangerous. “Even when I’m holding her like this.”

Heat rushed up my neck. “Maybe because you disappear,” I shot back. “How dare you vanish after last night, and then appear in the morning, sweeping me up like nothing happened. And you didn’t even come alone, Zorak. Who’s the brunette you brought?”

His jaw flexed. We were already halfway back to the main house. The gravel crunched under his boots. My pulse hammered so hard I felt it in my ears.

“Put me down,” I demanded.

I swallowed, forcing my voice steady. “You’re imagining things. Now put me down.”

“Not yet.” He adjusted his hold, his hand spreading over my thigh like it belonged there. “Feels too good having you here.”

The way he said it—raw, sexual—sent fire shooting down my thighs. My breath caught. My nails dug into his coat.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, even as heat pooled low in my belly.

We reached the porch. Finally, he set me gently on my feet, but the moment my boots touched the wood, he slid an arm around my waist like he wasn’t done claiming me.

That’s when she appeared.

The brunette stepped fully into view from the shade of the porch columns. Long dark hair, glossy, pulled back in a loose knot. Tall. Elegant. She leaned against the railing like she belonged here.

She smirked as her eyes flicked between Zorak and me. “You didn’t have to carry her all the way, Zor. She has legs.” The words came sweet, but the undertone—sharp as glass.

My stomach clenched.

Before I could say a word, Zorak turned his head toward her. “My bride doesn’t need her legs,”. His mouth tilted into a wicked grin.“Her legs are meant for running by me.”  

The brunette’s smile twitched, but she covered it with a laugh. “Don’t be dirty. I remember when you broke your nose as a kid. You weren’t so cocky then.”

My nails bit into my palm. She didn’t even look at me. She looked at him, like I wasn’t standing right there.

She pushed off the railing, walking closer. Her perfume hit first—sweet, heavy, the kind of scent that tried to stake claim on the air.

Zorak ruffled her hair lightly as she approached, his hand moving in an infuriatingly familiar way, like he’d done it a hundred times. “This is my friend,” he said, eyes sliding to me. “A childhood friend Dualipa.”

The sight made my blood burn. Friend or not, the way she looked at him wasn’t friendly.

I locked my gaze on her, my fists tight at my sides.

Her smile widened when she noticed. “Don’t glare,” she said sweetly, like I was some child throwing a tantrum. “I’m just teasing. I didn’t mean to shade your… bride.”

Vanya muttered under her breath beside me, “Shade, my ass.” Then louder, with a pointed smile sharp enough to cut, “Funny, isn’t it? Women who hide their feelings behind cheap jokes.”

Dua’s head turned, that smirk twitching. “Excuse me?”

Vanya crossed her arms, leaning casually like she owned the damn porch. “You heard me. If you’re going to come all this way just to throw digs, at least make them clever. Otherwise, you’re wasting everyone’s time.”

Dua’s smirk didn’t falter. Instead, she stepped closer, heels clicking against the wood like gunshots. “Breath wasted? Sweetheart, I’ve been trading barbs with men who slit throats before breakfast.

“Lucky for you,” she said smoothly, “your fiancé happens to be my favorite of the pack. Otherwise…” She let the words hang, smile turning razor-sharp. “…I’d already have you hanging on one of Zorak’s crosses.”

Vanya’s nostrils flared, ready to snap back, but Zorak’s voice cut through like a whip.

“Enough.”

One word. Heavy. Final.

Dua turned instantly, her sharp smile melting into something soft, sweet. Her lashes lowered, her lips parting just slightly as she looked at him like he hung the moon.

“Fine, Zor,” she said gently, almost coy. “Only because you told me to.”

The transformation made my stomach twist. A second ago she was spitting knives, now she looked like a kitten waiting for his hand on her head.

Zorak’s gaze lingered on her for a beat, then slid back to me, possessive and warning all at once.

My eyes narrowed on the brunette’s face. Something about her features tugged at me, familiar, wrong.

The curve of her chin. The angle of her cheekbones. My mind flipped through moments, memories that had been buried under too much pain.

Wait. I knew that face. I’d seen her before.

“Hold on,” I said slowly, my voice cutting through the air. My chest tightened. My eyes narrowed. “I know you.”

She tilted her head, still smirking. “Do you?”

“Yes.” The memory slammed back into me like a punch. My throat went dry. “I recognize you.”

The words hung heavy, sharp as glass. And in that instant, the whole world seemed to stop breathing.