Beneath the Underbite

The Invitation

[Lena]

The night after Thork’s appointment was a long one. Even after I'd hurried home, trying to shake off the lingering, charged atmosphere of my office, his presence clung to me like the scent of clove oil.

His deep voice, the intensity of his amber eyes, the sheer, undeniable power radiating from him—it was all replaying in a relentless loop in my mind.

I'd found myself tossing and turning, unable to banish him. Eventually, frustrated and restless, I'd reached for my nightstand drawer, pulling out a familiar comfort. Closing my eyes, I'd touched myself, pretending for a breathless, desperate moment that the rhythmic pressure was his touch, that the low rumble of my toy in my ears was his voice, until finally, exhaustion claimed me.

Tonight, however, I wasn't going to let his memory sabotage my sleep or my peace.

I was at Hazel's, sitting at our usual corner of the bar with Maya, and I'd made a strategic decision. My usual martini wasn’t going to be enough so with determination, I asked Hazel for something stronger.

"One Long Island Iced Tea, please, Hazel," I requested, hoping the potent concoction would finally turn my buzzing brain to mush and push Mr.Oakenfall out of my thoughts for good.

Maya perked her head at my request for the heavier drink. "Whoa there, doc. Rough day? Or is this about that new patient of yours?" She grinned, already knowing the answer.

I just grunted in response, avoiding her gaze. There was no denying it; the Orc had completely derailed my usual meticulously controlled inner world.

I took a long swig of the newly arrived Long Island Iced Tea, signaling for another before Hazel could walk away. The syrupy sweetness nearly covered the burning alcohol within.

"Speaking of distractions," Maya continued, leaning closer and lowering her voice conspiratorially, "that charming werewolf at the end of the bar, the one with the piercing blue eyes, has been giving you the look for the past three times we've been here. He's practically radiating 'come hither' vibes."

She nudged me playfully with her elbow. "Go on, Lena. Go talk to him. He's gorgeous, and you know you deserve a little fun. You spend all your time with teeth; you need some actual flesh."

Hazel slid over the second glass and I passed her back the empty one, full of ice that never had a chance to melt. I took a sip of the new one and nearly choked at the clearly overpoured new recipe. I looked up at Hazel who winked at me and turned to walk away.

"Maya, please," I sighed. The thought of wading into another complicated inter-species relationship, especially after Rith'an, felt utterly overwhelming. "I'm really not looking to date anyone right now. My work is enough. I'm busy. I'm just... not interested."

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, even to myself. How could I say I wasn't interested when the mere memory of Thork still made my body hum?

Maya was about to launch into another one of her passionate lectures about the virtues of living a little, when a new sound cut through the club's vibrant din.

A voice.

Deep.

Resonant.

Booming, yet somehow intimate, like thunder rumbling right through my bones. It was the same sound that had infiltrated my office, then my dreams. An immediate, thrilling shiver shot through my core, a visceral jolt that made every nerve ending hum. My head snapped around, my breath catching in my throat.

He stood there, just a few feet behind me, a towering, magnificent presence.

Thork.

He was even more imposing in the club's subdued lighting than he had been in my brightly lit office, his sage green skin a deep, rich hue, his amber eyes seeming to pierce through the crowd. He was dressed in dark, impeccably tailored clothes that accentuated his powerful physique, the fabric stretching taut over his bulging muscles. Those four gleaming tusks curved majestically from his lower jaw, the curve catching the ambient light.

My mind, already dulled by the Long Island, completely short-circuited. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat.

"That's a shame, I was on my way over to invite you to dinner, Dr. Hanson," he rumbled, his voice washing over me, shaking me to my very core. He was looking directly at me, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on me.

I was utterly flustered, my carefully constructed composure crumbling to dust around me. My cheeks immediately flushed hot, and I could feel my lips parting slightly in a mixture of surprise and... something else.

Maya, always up for a bit of drama, perked up instantly. Her eyes darted from me to Thork, a wide, excited grin spreading across her face. She practically vibrated with contained glee.

"Well, hello there, tall, dark, and handsome!" she chirped, nudging me hard with her elbow. "Dr. Hanson here was just saying she needs to get out more. It's Lena, by the way," she added pointedly, giving Thork a bold, encouraging look. "Lena."

Thork's gaze shifted from Maya back to me, and his amber eyes held mine. He repeated my name, his deep voice rolling over each syllable.

"Lena."

The sound of my name on his lips, spoken with that low, captivating rumble, was electric. It sent a fresh wave of heat through me, my heart speeding up, my lips parting further, a silent invitation I desperately wished I hadn't made.

I fumbled for words, my mind a jumbled mess of professional ethics, personal desires, and the potent effects of my second strong drink.

"Mr. Oakenfall... I... I don't... I don't date patients," I stammered, the words feeling weak and utterly unconvincing even to myself. My cheeks burned even hotter.

A low chuckle vibrated from his chest, a sound that deepened the tingle in my core. Thork leaned down, just enough so that his powerful, muscled arm brushed lightly against my back as he brought his head closer, his voice dropping to a seductive, quieter rumble meant for my ears alone.

"Then I suppose," he murmured, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my ear, "I'll just have to find myself a new dentist, won't I, Lena?"

The rumble of his voice echoed through me, a primal vibration that went straight to my very center. The meaning behind his words—a clear challenge, an ultimatum wrapped in a velvet glove—made my legs instinctively clench together under the bar.

He knew. He absolutely knew the effect he had on me, the hidden fire beneath my professional exterior. He wasn’t offering me a choice, he was forcing my hand.

I looked desperately back at Maya, hoping for some rescue, some guidance. But she and Hazel were both leaning towards each other on the bar counter, practically whispering, their faces alight with a shared, mischievous amusement.

Maya caught my eye, a playful wave of her hand dismissing my internal struggle.

"Go on, Lena," she mouthed, her grin wide and unambiguous. "Enjoy dinner!" Hazel just nodded, her fairy eyes sparkling with silent encouragement.

My fate, it seemed, was sealed. And a part of me, the part that had been restless and aching for something more, for him, felt a surge of exhilarating, terrifying anticipation.