ORC’S PRIZE

A MONSTER ROMANCE

CELESTE KING

Copyright © 2021 by Celeste King

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CONTENTS

Also by Celeste King

1.  Candice

2.  Borak

3.  Candice

4.  Borak

5.  Candice

6.  Candice

7.  Borak

8.  Borak

9.  Candice

10.  Borak

11.  Candice

12.  Borak

13.  Candice

14.  Borak

15.  Candice

16.  Borak

17.  Candice

18.  Borak

19.  Candice

20.  Borak

21.  Candice

22.  Borak

23.  Candice

24.  Borak

25.  Candice

26.  Borak

27.  Candice

28.  Borak

29.  Candice

30.  Candice

Preview of Orc’s Toy

31.  Kat

32.  Thoruk

33.  Kat

34.  Thoruk

ALSO BY CELESTE KING

Thoruk’s Prize: A Monster Romance

Grumpy Alien King

Grumpy Alien Boss

Lured By The Alien

Kaldar: A SciFi Romance

Jartok: A SciFi Romance

Vark: A SciFi Romance

Hethal: A SciFi Romance

Kiss My Sass

Back That Sass Up

Show Me That Sass

Stolen By The Alien Beast

1

CANDICE

The mist clings to the tree-tops, as it always does this time of year. Ahead of us the forest is large and sprawling—an untamed wilderness claimed by nothing but the plants, trees and the animals that live here.

The world that we inhabit can often seem cruel and harsh, but when I look around at the dense woodland that surrounds me, I know that it is also full of riches, many of which are yet to be discovered.

“Is this the herb that you seek?” says one of the orcs to my left. He is a quiet one, his eyes and ears doing the majority of the work. That’s why I’ve brought him. Three others from the Wolf Riders Clan accompany me, as we forage for plants that I’ll use for tinctures.

Striding over to him I hope that he might be right. He kneels on the ground near the base of a huge Douglas fir and digs a large finger under a small bundle of fleshy leaves with tiny white flowers.

“Yes,” I say, excitedly. “Good work.”

He grunts and begins to collect them gently, just as I have instructed him. The herbs that we collect today and in the coming weeks will form the basis of my medical supplies that I will prepare for the months ahead. The leaves, roots, berries and bark, all providing me with excellent ingredients for what I need.

“Aren’t we the doctor’s pet!” one of the others teases him from across the forest floor.

“Well, if you used your eyes and your brain more and your mouth less, you might find something too,” he retorts, before carrying on collecting his find.

Laughter erupts as the orcs banter with each other. It’s something that makes me smile when they act this way, so different to how we humans at first perceived them, although they have shown us plenty to be fearful of.

When the orcs entered our dimension through the Rift following their persecution from the Dark Elves, centuries of war, bloodshed and hardship followed. Though not much has changed since their arrival there has been some progression recently.

Now, as we begin to live alongside each other it feels as if a new era is dawning. The orcs of Protheka are becoming the orcs of Earth. Just another species on a planet inhabited by many. There’s plenty of reconciliation that needs to happen, and we don’t yet know what is going on further across the continent and beyond, but it’s a start.

Clans like the Wolf Riders have become more welcoming to humans which allows us to assist each other for mutual benefit. As a doctor I, along with others from bunker#32, am helping them with their medical needs in exchange for supplies and protection. It is a system that seems to be working well.

The magic of the orcs is dying and this now means they need our help to survive and thrive in a world whose magic is science and reason. Co-existence is not something that many of us ever envisioned, but some of the biggest orc clans have mated with humans, living together as family units.

Humans and orcs as friends, lovers and companions. Who would’ve thought it would ever have been possible? But when pushed to breaking point all creatures have the ability to evolve or die, even orcs.

From a scientific standpoint it is fascinating to know that this is happening. So far, we have learnt that the offspring have been pure orc or pure human but with orc strength. But there is much yet to learn about what the mixing of our species offers.

This is something that my mother and I often discuss. She is the one that taught me—trained me in the ways of our predecessors—being from a long line of physicians. I can only wish to become the doctor that she is one day,

I am also grateful to my father, the leader of our bunker for more than twenty years. In other bunkers I would not have been given this opportunity—women are not always valued by humans or orcs.

We are different, and it’s something that my father has always instilled within our bunker. When the orcs arrived and humans were threatened and driven underground, it took next to no time to regress. Equality between the sexes slipped immeasurably, until women became little more than slaves. Patriarchy returned with a vengeance.

I’ve heard the stories of other bunkers. How the women are used as workers by the men and even traded or offered as tributes to orc clans that use them savagely. These are the horror stories of our time, and yet they’re not just stories, they’re real.

But if we are different, proving that not all humans are the same, then it is also important to recognize this may also be true of orcs. And I have the proof standing a few feet away from me.

Working with the orcs has enabled me to further my understanding of them, both physically and psychologically. In many ways they are not so different from us. Many would seek to disagree, but that is their emotion talking. My language is science.

As well as the Wolf Riders I also work with others that surround our bunker. We are learning to exist alongside each other, though some clans are more amenable to humans than others.

But our bunker also borders another clan: The Twilight Reapers. This is a clan that we have had little to do with, other than sell them some of the medicines we produce. That is where the interaction begins and ends.

There’s not much that I know about them, other than they are led by a Chieftain called Borak the Wrathful. Maybe it’s best that I keep it that way. I imagine a title like that can only have come about from actions I do not need to worry myself with.

Many of the clans are proving themselves to be non-violent and trustworthy, but it would be foolish to think that all of them will be like that. At almost thirty years old I am well-aware that innocence does not serve any of us well in this world. We must be sharp and discerning if we’re to survive and move forward.

We have pushed further through the forest and I know we are close to the border of Twilight territory. The Wolf Riders have warned us of them, advising us not to cross over onto their land if we’re to avoid conflict.

I look over my shoulder where the orcs sit and examine the herbs that we have gathered. Slowly I am teaching them what I can about what to harvest and how, and they seem eager to learn.

Leaning over to examine the ground, I cast my eyes across the invisible border that separates the land. They have already warned me to go no further, which is why I am glad they are now distracted.

Because in the small clearing I can see the bright pink berries that I have been in search of for months. There is no way they will venture any further with me, and I doubt they would allow me to if they got their hands on me, after all I am useful to them now.

Surely a few yards will be safe enough. That plant would help cure the bunker of stomach issues for months—years if there are more of them, which there must be.

Carefully, I trace around the huge tree trunk in front of me until I am hidden from their view. If they call out for me then I’ll just claim to be taking a pee.

There’s no way I can leave without them. I am quick and light on my feet, I will be there and back within a minute or so. Crouching low against the ground I keep my eyes on my prize and cross the border.

What harm could it do?

2

BORAK

The council room is now hot and sticky after hours of discussion and deliberation regarding supplies and strategies for the coming winter. Just as pressing is how we will deal with the dying of the magic that seems to be hastening with each passing moon. There is much to discuss and my patience with some of these matters is waning.

As one of the elders speaks of how we can learn from some of our neighboring tribes I feel myself bristle. We do things our way, and as chieftain of this clan it is my job to ensure that it done right. I have sanctioned the purchase of healing supplies from the neighboring humans, but that is as far as I am willing to go.

“The doors burst open and one of my men rushes in. “Excuse me, Borak, but I have been told to bring you the news right away,” he says bowing his head. A part of me almost pities him, having to come in here and disturb me in this way. Surely he knows that may not end well for him.

“Well get on with it then!” I roar. I am already done with this day, and there are still rounds to make and inspections of the soldiers that I must undertake. The demands of a chieftain are constant, and I have little time or patience for interruptions.

“It is your son, Chief,” says the soldier, a worried look on his young face.

“What about him—speak dammit!” My heart quickens but that concern is soon replaced by rage.

“Jaal is not in his quarters, Chief. One of the servants discovered as much when taking him his meal.”

Anger consumes me. “That damned child! Must he always be such a constant thorn in my side!” For a seven-year-old he can demand a lot of my time and attention with his incessant wanderings, and his ways are starting to eat at me.

I know where he will be, though I do not tell the council. This boy has made a fool of me one too many times in recent months, and I am starting to tire of it, as they are no doubt. What they need is answers and a chieftain who is able to give them. Not a leader that is constantly chasing around after his useless son!

As Chieftain of the Twilight Reaper Clan, I have enough to deal with. Our supplies need to be restocked and the magic is waning. If we are to survive on this fucking planet then we need to make plans.

But how can I do that when I am constantly dealing with the issues that Jaal brings me. Being his only parent, it is left just to me. Often I wonder how different life would have been if his mother had not died bringing him into the world. Maybe then he would be more settled and less likely to take off whenever the need took him.

I did my duty as an orc and a leader—breeding with a human to populate the tribe, though it was not planned. His making was the result of nothing but some pleasures of the flesh, though there is not a single orc alive that would not be happy to seed a child even if it wasn’t the intention.

Breeding is something that occupies a top spot on our list of priorities. The burst of magic that opened the dimensional rift that brought us here had such a devastating effect on the female orc population that it is never far from our minds. If humans are capable of bearing our young, then this is what we must do. No clan wants to see its numbers diminish and its position weaken.

I am the first among the clan to breed with a human and was both pleasantly surprised and relieved when I saw the first flash of green skin and the bumps that would eventually form tusks. Though his birth was a brutal affair, he emerged from his dying mother calm and strong.

But even though he looks like me, with the same moss-green skin and a large, muscular form, that is where the similarity ends. Something which has become abundantly clear as the years have passed.

Underneath that green skin and behind those eyes he is more human than orc. I am Borak the Wrathful, garnering my name after destroying my father’s tribe. My words are made of the same fire that burns in my red eyes, and my actions from that which rages inside my heart.

There are times when this fire inside me burns so hot I am unable to contain it, unleashing it upon the world without even knowing what has happened. This is what gives me my reputation, what makes me feared amongst the orcs within and outside of my clan.

Jaal, on the other hand, is nothing like me. His is often silent, with watchful eyes. Unlike any orc I have ever known he shows little aggression and does not like to fight. That is not how it should be—he will be the next chieftain and will need to be strong and formidable.

The clan needs a fighter. A chieftain. Someone who will lead them in battle and defend them with all that they have. Not someone weak and soft, like a human. It just will not do.

Training my son in our ways and to be a leader should be one of the greatest joys and honors that I can undertake, yet Jaal has made it difficult from the very start. Now he resists his physical training, and this has become a daily problem.

Not only does this bring me worries about the future of the clan, but it causes a deep and real embarrassment. He is not how the son of a chieftain should be.

It seems he is more interested in watching what goes on outside of our territory. We are bordered by another clan that has chosen to work with humans. The Wolf Riders are weaker than us and if that is how they plan on surviving then so be it.

We also have a human settlement not far from our borders and this is where I know Jaal likes to go. What he is hoping to see evades me, yet I fear it is the human in him that draws him there.

Only last week I discovered he had crossed the border into their territory. This is something I cannot allow, which is why I have confined him to his quarters. I will do whatever I must to ensure he becomes the orc and the chieftain that I and the rest of the clan expect and need him to be.

Once again, as I storm out of the council room, I know I will probably find him there and when I do, he had better look out. He is dear to me, and I know that I should be more tolerant. I know what it is like to born to a brute, and that is not what I want for him. Yet year after year he makes my job impossible and it is hard to know what to do with him.

If I were not the chieftain this may not be the issue that is now is. But as the leader I have to be the example to my clan. And I have to prepare my son to succeed me when the time comes.

Jaal is my son and he will learn to fight and lead no matter how much he resists. As my chest burns with fury, I think what punishment I will now need to enact.

But as I march across the stronghold something hits me—maybe the boy is not as weak as I have always assumed? He has, after all, disobeyed his father and his chief, Borak the Wrathful. There may actually be hope yet.

3

CANDICE

Though the underbrush is thick, there are no traps to snare me, like some of the craftier orc clans are known to use. Even still, I take one cautious step after another into forbidden territory. I’m not keen on breaking these unspoken lines but my work is more important than an orc’s fickle ire.

I cannot pass up a clutch of Alchemilla Vulgaris.

Most texts on the matter refer to it as Lady’s Mantle. I recognize it by its scalloped leaves and tiny, pale yellow flowers that grow in thick groups. Under this massive sycamore, it’s overflowing. Expertly, I still my trembling hands—I’m far too excited—rehearsing a conversation in my mind with the leader of the Twilight Reapers. Perhaps they’ll make a deal with me, in exchange for a few extra salves and balms.

I am so engrossed in my task, so complacent, that I don’t notice I’m being watched until a branch cracks behind me. I stiffen, tearing a fistful of Lady’s Mantle and tucking it into my pouch before daring to turn around.

It couldn’t be one of ours.

The orcs in the Wolf Rider’s tribe are loathed to break territorial lines. They wouldn’t bother to gather me up, preferring to call out from a distance in their deep and booming voices. Whoever—whatever—this is, it isn’t the Wolf Rider’s tribe.

My face flushes painfully as I pivot on my heels.

I expect a scowling orc face, or another human from our group. Instead, I’m met with a massive, shaggy head, and a body to accommodate its huge proportions. The deep brown of its coat is all encompassing, so it blocks out the dying light.

A bear.

Anything else, I might have been able to reason with it. A senseless smile forms, and I almost drop my bag. This isn’t like the bears of old, that were seven feet tall on average. Their species—along with others—have grown wildly in the absence of human dominion. The thing that stands before me is easily twice its ancestors’ size, massively huge with seemingly no end to its rippling coat.

Its nose wrinkles as it takes in the air. Its beady eyes home in on me.

Even as my survival brain kicks in, my scientific mind whirrs. How could such a great change happen in so few generations? When the orcs came through the rift, they brought with them magic. Though it’s fading, I have to wonder if it had an effect on our world, and the creatures in it.

These bears are hunted freely by the orcs, yet they retain not just their numbers, but have become a bigger menace than they ever were before the rift. I’m stunned by its size and power, as it seems stunned by my presence.

Even at nearly six feet tall, I’m hardly a snack for this beast.

We stare at one another for what I can only imagine is an eternity. I don’t even dare to breathe into the silence, hoping it grows bored of me and lumbers on. But I underestimate its animal instincts, and it closes the distance.

Those paws would devastate me with a single swipe. I’d need more than a doctor, if it got within reach. A priest, maybe, and a heavy burial shroud. I stumble backwards, keeping a good ten feet between us. It doesn’t seem to like the move and huffs out its disapproval.

My insides are quivering.

In a heartbeat, it decides to lunge at me. I have a quarter of a second to roll aside, landing back up on my feet. Some of my herbs have fallen out of my pack but at least I still have it clutched beneath my arm.

Its reaching has become less curious and more aggressive, so that I turn and run, not exactly caring where I’ll end up. I’d take on a whole clan of wrathful orcs over this dumb animal, because at least I have a chance at reasoning with them.

Still, though, I lose my way.

I leap over a fallen log and clamber up a tree. I climb five, ten, fifteen feet, pulling myself up onto a thick branch just out of reach. Unlike the bears of old, these ones cannot climb due to their size and weight. The tree still trembles when it tries, shaking the heavy spring boughs dangerously as it roars. It drops to all-fours, then crashes into the trunk.

I grip the branch that’s preserving me for dear life.

It rams the tree again. I have to wonder where it picked up that trick from. It’s crafty, for an overgrown teddy bear, but I need to keep my head if I’m going to survive.

The tree trembles fiercely as I look around for a solution.

There’s another tree, only five feet from this one, that I can jump to. It’ll hurt, but at least if this tree falls, I won’t be the one getting squished. I brace myself for the next rattling impact below, then find my footing and leap.

The bear is so busy trying to bring the tree down, it doesn’t notice as I slide down the slick beech trunk and hit the ground running.

I hear it grunt with a final, forceful ram of the tree, sending small branches tumbling down on its head. I don’t get a chance to look back and gloat, as it's already on my tail. Damn it, I should have stayed with the group, I think.

I never do learn my lesson.

The bear might be powerful, but I’m human. That has to count for something, right?

I’m completely, undeniably lost. There’s not finding my way back to the Wolf Rider’s territory. I won’t get back on my own, at least not without this bear on my tail.

Maybe it’ll tire.

I laugh at the thought and keep running. I should be inconsolable but all I can think about is my own escape. This world is tough but humanity made it through the worst. And, if that’s the case, I can survive this damned bear.

I find a powerful stride through the forest, leaping over fallen logs and ducking beneath branches. I’m built for speed, and the bear is an ungainly creature that has outgrown its natural habitat. I’ll figure out a way to shake it free.

My confidence rises as I gain distance, and I sense it slowing.

We’re both breathing fast and hard, but at least I don’t have to lug a massive fur around, and though I’m winded, I’m thrilled. I’m going to make it.

That’s when I trip.

A rock is jutting out past a felled tree, catching my ankle and forcing it to twist. I let out a cry of pain and crash hard to the rocky ground, my knees striking more stones. I can hear the bear closing in on me, its huffing getting louder as I scramble out of its path.

For a second, I think it’s going to pass me entirely.

I don’t have a moment to be relieved before its body pivots and its beady eyes land on me. Its mouth is open and there’s drool dripping from its black lips. I gave it a good run for its money, at least, true fear gripping me.

I drag myself up against the trunk of a tree, trying to run, but my ankle refuses to obey. It’s already swollen and painful, my body collapsing again in the attempt.

The bear rises onto its hind legs, then issues a mighty roar that deafens me, sending a deep echo through the trees.

I cower, every hair on my body rising.

Now, you can’t help anybody, I think, bracing myself for that fatal blow.

4

BORAK

“Ruckt. Urog. To me!”

I don’t bother to check if my loyal soldiers follow. They know the consequences of disobeying better than my own son does. But he’ll soon find out what lies beyond the limit of my patience. I wonder if I’ve been too soft on him, these last years.

“Ridiculous,” I murmur under my breath. We storm out the inner gates in unison, other orcs yielding to my presence. “Find him,” I say to my underlings. “Whatever it takes.”

“Yes sir,” they answer, spreading out in search of Jaal.

I look where I’ve found him before, hiding behind the smokehouse, tucked between the huts, concealed among his peers by the bonfire, buried beneath the freshly dried furs. He’d once skirted the fire pit while I chased him around, until I’d lost patience and braved the flames to get my hands on him. I rub the uneven skin of my arm, where the flesh had never quite knitted together correctly.

“Jaal!” I bellow, unnerving several of my clansmen.

Ruckt returns to me first, empty handed. He shrugs apologetically. “He is nowhere.”

“Agreed,” Urog assures me. “If he is, he has hidden well.”

A young male passes by and I grab his shoulder, shaking him harder than I mean to. “You, boy. Have you seen Jaal this evening?”

His yellow eyes flash in fear, and he shakes his head.

I release him, and he runs off.

Our tailor sits near the outskirts of our encampment, hanging garments that have just been stained with berry juice. Surely, he must have seen something. “Have you seen Jaal?” I ask him impatiently, keeping my eyes peeled for my eloped progeny. “He must have come this way if he left the camp.”

“I’m sorry, my Chieftain,” he says in turn, holding up his berry-stained arms with a sorry grin. “I have seen nothing but cloth all day. I will keep an eye out for him.”

I clap his shoulder. “Call for me if you do.”

I carry on, my brow furrowing.

Ruckt speaks low to Urog, though their words are not withheld from me. “He must have left. There is no other explanation.”

“Perhaps we should send out a search party.”

“Unless he went to the human camp again. Then, we will have to petition a meeting with their leader before sending a troupe to find him.”

“I will meet with the humans, myself,” I say, “if it finds me that damned child.”

Silence follows my comment.

Jaal is intelligent and resourceful, and I’m starting to realize I’ve taught him how to evade me. Every time he leaves, it has become harder and harder to find him. But he always shows up, after a few hours, caked in whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into, and a big toothed grin spread across his face. It disrupts my furious mood, so that I find myself grumbling my forgiveness.

Somehow, he managed to abscond from the camp without anyone seeing him. I’d be proud of the boy, if I wasn’t so furious. Cleverness will do him no good, in this new world. It is strength and boldness that will, and he’s shown little of it.

But he’s gone too far today.

The sun is setting, and he hasn’t returned.

He might be my child, but he is still a child. Maybe this time, the trouble he found was not something he could best, and he’s out there somewhere, in dire straits, or worse. The thought makes my heavy heart race and my palms go sweaty.

I hate the thought of him out there on his own. He’s too young, still.

My soldiers can feel my mood darkening. They keep their distance, growing bold in their questioning of my clansmen. I rally several more to my side, until we have a small raid party on the constant lookout.

The sun reaches the horizon, and fear spreads through my limbs. I don’t let it leak into my tone, which is hard. “We’ll search further out!” I call to my soldiers. “Whatever it takes, we will find him before the moon is high.”

They gather around me as we make our way out of the camp. Torches are brought to shed light on the tall trees. The soldiers search for signs, for broken branches or prints or anything that might cue us into his whereabouts.

“We will find him,” Urog reassures me, keeping his expression stern. “He could not have gotten far in such a short time.”

“It is not the distance I am concerned about.”

“The humans are neutral,” another soldier says. “They wouldn’t dare hurt one of ours, especially the son of Borak the Wrathful.”

My lips tighten. “I should not have to worry that the humans will harm him. He is an orc, and should conduct himself as such.”

“Of course, Chieftain.”

I will not rest until he is safe, though afterwards, I might just kill him for his insolence. I scowl at the thought. How this boy enrages me, and yet- I can’t stop the rare jolt of fear from quickening my step.

What trouble have you gotten into, Jaal?

I can only imagine, and it fills me with worry.

I never would admit that I am a good father, or else why would I be out hunting for the boy? He obviously cannot stand my rules, though they serve to keep him safe on a hostile planet. Any responsibilities I put to him, he shirks as quickly as water rolls off a leaf. He does not have the makings for a Chieftain, but if I’m to be succeeded by my kin, it must be him.

Inexplicably, though, I yearn to see him safe.

I do love the boy.

It is a thought that gives me no end of pain. Most of our kind do not bother with the weak ones. We have been bred out of it at a young age, and any expression is a risk to our clan and company. We must be strong, as it was beaten into us all.

Yet Jaal defies me effortlessly.

He got it from his human side, the crafty, quiet boy that he is. He has been outsmarting my soldiers for years now, and refuses to fall in line like the other children of the clan. His clever mind will be the death of him.

The death of me.

My nose is not so keen as some of my kin, though I wish it were. I might be able to catch his scent on the wind, to home in on his whereabouts before true danger finds him. I wish we had dogs or wolves like some of the other clans that could sniff him out more accurately.

Where is my son? The question repeats itself as I check every tree and bush.

The others are doing the same, keeping their spears at the ready for any wild creatures that might pop out at us. But they know to stay far away from orc kind.

I growl out my frustration.

What could I have done to prevent this? I set up a tight security around our hut, ensured that all my clansmen notify me if he is spotted, and yet he still has vanished. I almost have to wonder if he’s found a way to tap into the shaman’s magics and made himself disappear. It is the only explanation, at this point.

But I will not give up.

He is no specter, but flesh and blood, and I will find him.

5

CANDICE

Hot, sour breath makes me gag. The bear has stretched his mouth wide, and his eyes gleam in eager anticipation of his next meal. My pulse slams against my throat as I take in the bear’s sharp, long teeth. They’re larger than my hands, and I can imagine all too well how they’ll slice through my flesh.

My breath comes in shallow pants, and it’s a struggle to slow it down enough to think. I’ve never been so frightened in my life. I’ve faced bears before; since the orcs arrived they’ve grown massive and hungry. I’ve just never faced bears alone. My father and brothers have always protected me in these woods. A deer or three might have satisfied them in the past, but their appetite has grown with their bodies.

The sun is setting on the horizon now, illuminating the sky with vivid shades of orange, purple, and pink. I stare at it a moment longer than I should, all too aware that this might be the last sunset I see.

Enough of that. You have to at least try.

I roll away again. Pain sears across my injured leg, and rocks bite across my exposed skin. It’s a monumental effort for me, but the bear leaps ahead of me without so much as a grunt.

This is not a dance I can keep up for long. The colors in the sky have already begun to fade into night.

My family must already be worried. I never stay out this late in the forest alone. My brothers and father have trained me to fight – there aren’t many humans who survive long in this wretched world without being able to fight – but the bear is much too large for me to fight on my own, unarmed.

Not more than a week before this, I’d stood with my brothers and father in the training yard, learning to counter block. After the fifth time my younger brother, Philip, flipped me onto my back, I’d quietly left the training lessons to go sort herbs.

“You’ll never get the chance to heal anyone,” my father had said, concern etched into the deep lines on his face, “if you can’t survive in this world.”

This world. Bears, cougars, and warring orc clans. My grandfather, also a doctor, had told me stories of the world before. He hadn’t had to train in hand to hand combat just to find medicine. He’d just written directions on a piece of paper, and the proper medications had been supplied to the people in his care.

I couldn’t imagine it.

Perhaps I’ve woven myself too tightly within my grandfather’s tales, where medicine and healing were of paramount importance. If I survive this bear attack, I’ll never skip on martial arts lessons again. I’ll beg my father and Philip to train me until the sun sets in the sky.

What use was this special herb now, if it remains clutched in my soon-to-be lifeless hands?

You’re not dead yet.

Yet being the operative word. If my legs were in better shape, I might be able to escape, but I doubt it. This bear is toying with me, playing with his food. I am one forceful blow away from oblivion.

The bear advances. He isn’t running, but he isn’t moving in slow motion, either. He knows I’m cornered before I do, once my heels slip on the rocks of the cliff. A small pebble skitters down, down, down, the echoes of it’s descent bouncing across the valley below.

My only choice is to fall to my death, or become a bear’s dinner. Academically, it’s an easy choice. In practice, I quite enjoy being alive, even if I only hold on to a few seconds more. I take a deep breath to fortify my resolve.

I shut my eyes and limp backwards one step. Two.

My fists clench at my sides, and my eyes squeeze closed so tightly that abstract colors dance in fanciful patterns across the backs of my eyelids.

I’m sorry Father, and Philip, and…

A wasp whooshes past my cheek, and the bear wails in shock and pain. Instinct has me covering my eyes, listening for the rest of the angry nest, but I force myself to uncover my eyes. I’ll trade a few wasp stings for an escape.

But the bear’s paw catches my eye. He cradles it close, biting at the large stinger embedded within.

No, not a stinger.

An arrow.

It extends from the bear’s paw like a long, angry thorn. I scramble away from the cliff in relief, avoiding the bear’s distracted swat with its good paw.

“Are you hurt?”

The words come from behind me. To my shock, there’s a small orc child standing to the left of the bear. His bow is nearly as tall as he is, but he notches the next arrow with expert precision.

“What are you doing?” The bear has moved past pain and well into blind fury. He snarls at us both, but his keen eyes seem well-aware that this young boy is the one who’s caused him pain. “Run!”

The boy stubbornly sends another arrow sailing into the woods. It misses the bear by less than a finger span.

“Go!”

The boy ignores me. My heart is in my throat. I don’t want to survive at the cost of a child’s life. I struggle up to my feet, intending to intercept the bear and buy the boy time to escape, but my body betrays me and searing pain sends me crashing to the rocky ground below.

Rocks. Yes. I throw them towards the bear with all my might, but they bounce off his back uselessly. He doesn’t even blink. All he sees is the boy.

Even if he runs full speed, he won’t escape now.

I throw one last, large rock at the bear’s back, and finally, the bear hesitates. His nose turns up in the air, as if remembering that his prey is nearby. If the bear turns towards me, perhaps the child can finally land a killing blow.

The bear doesn’t turn.

He’s going to eat this child alive, and finish with me for dessert. I can’t watch. My hands claw against my eyes, allowing for only a sliver of sight. I’m still urging the child to run, begging him to flee, but the words fall from my lips without thought.

To my shock, the boy grins savagely and replaces his bow with a large hunting knife. The bear lumbers forth in a straight line; he would be easy to dodge, even for me.

But the boy doesn’t dodge.

I’d thought my small size a disadvantage, but this child uses his lack of height masterfully. He rolls towards the bear and catches his unguarded belly with the brutal teeth of the knife. The bear makes a sound I’ve never heard and sprays blood across the tall, swaying grass.

He’s wounded, but still deadly.

The boy narrowly ducks the bear’s massive, grasping paw, and twirls so that the bear is off-balance before stabbing it again.

My brothers never taught me to fight like this. Every move is fluid and masterful, almost like a choreographed dance. The boy uses the bear’s size against it, turning it’s most potent strength into its fatal weakness.

And it is fatal. The boy is clever and fast, and soon it becomes apparent the bear was never going to win this battle. He topples over with a long, agonized groan, and the boy waits a few moments before sheathing his weapon.

“Your leg,” he says, quietly. “You need a healer.”

I almost announce that I am a healer, but I realize that he’s talking about orc magic. I grew up jealous of their effortless abilities. Orc healers don’t need to scour the countryside and risk their lives for rare herbs.

Although their magic is fading. I chide myself, remembering that I’m fetching herbs for the Wolf Rider’s Tribe. Not all orcs are brutish. It seems like more and more orcs are attempting to cooperate with humans, instead of ruling them.

6

CANDICE

The bear has taken its last breath and I can hardly believe that a child this young, even if he is an orc, was the one that helped it there. We stare at each other for a few moments, and I expect him to say something, but he doesn’t.

Far from it—this child now seems timid and shy. Nothing like the fast and skilled bear-assassin that I just witnessed. I even think I see some fear in his eyes, though if anything I should be the one that is scared—this kid has just put down a bear!

I’m still in shock at how close I just came to death. And seeing this orcling move the way he did, with such skill and grace, has just added to that. But the boy who just felled a bear now seems to close in on himself, becoming smaller and more uncertain.

His shoulders curl inwards, his head bows slightly, and he is doing his best to avoid eye contact with me. It’s such a contradiction and leaves me confused. How am I more intimidating than a bear?

My chest swells seeing him so vulnerable. Though he looks larger and taller than any other child I’m used to, he’s still just a kid. One that has just saved me from certain death.

“Hi,” I say softly, trying to make him feel more at ease. “I’m Candice.”

He looks at me with the most beautiful red eyes and I can’t help but notice the deep sadness that rests in them. I have never seen eyes like them on any creature that I’ve come across. Though they are red they are gentle and not fearsome.

“Are you a human?” he finally says. His voice is small and soft.

“Yes, I am.”

At this his face changes, becomes happy almost. “My mom’s human,” he says. “My father is orc.”

He is fascinating, a human mother, yet he looks and moves like an orc. There is nothing orc-like about his timidity however, and I reason this must be more of a human trait. I’ve never known an orc to be quite so mild-mannered and shy.

“What’s your name?” I ask, genuinely keen to know.

“Jaal.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Jaal, that’s a really great name. Thank you so much for helping me out there.”

He shrugs his shoulders as if what he’s just done is merely nothing.

“You know you’ve just saved my life, right?”

Another shrug.

“So, how old are you, Jaal?”

“I’m seven.”

This takes me by complete surprise—like his age and his skill just do not match. He’s a seven-year-old boy with the skills of a warrior and yet the immaturity and timidity of a small child. The incongruence of it is strange.

I’ve met and spent time with a few orcs, but I haven’t been around orclings. I certainly didn’t think I’d come across an orc of dual parentage. If his mother is human, then it doesn't show on the outside that’s for sure.

“Can you help me?” I ask him. “Because I don’t think I know where I am and I’m pretty sure it’s not the best place to be for me at the moment.” My eyes flick to the bear on the ground, it’s blood seeping into the earth.

He nods and steps closer to me and I can tell that he wants to help me. Again, my heart goes out to him. He’s so young and so keen to help.

“It’s almost dark, we need to get out of here before night sets in,” I explain. “It’s not the safest place for us to be once the sun is down.”

“I can’t go home,” he says, his face becoming sad and worried at the same time. “My father will just lock me away again and will probably also beat me this time. I’ve disobeyed him too many times now.”

This kid is killing me. My heart weeps for him, thinking about him being treated like that. I’ve never thought about how orcs would be as parents. I guess now I’m starting to see. If they’re not hostile to humans then I really need to speak to his father, as this child had just saved me, demonstrating exceptional courage and skill.

“What clan do you belong to?”

“Twilight Reapers,” he says, his eyes addressing the ground and not me. “This is our land.”

I’ve not had much experience with them and it’s hard to judge what their views on humans are. They are not openly hostile and not friendly either.

“Yes… yes I know.” Part of me wants to make my excuses as to why I am here, but maybe I’m overthinking it; he’s just a child after all. “I’m from the bunker just outside of your border. I’ve been here with some orcs from a neighboring clan, we’ve been working together, but we got separated.

I turn my attention to him. “So, what are you doing out here all alone? It surprises me to see someone your age by yourself this far from your stronghold. Do your parents know you’re here?”

His head bows further which tells me the answer is no and that he is more than likely doing something that he shouldn’t be. “Are you in trouble of some sort, Jaal.”

He digs his toes into the ground. “I am now.”

“How come?”

“I shouldn’t really be out here. I’ve been told to stay in my quarters for coming over here so often and for not taking my training seriously.”

“Ah, and what brings you here? I must say, given what I’ve seen of your skills it seems whatever training you’ve done has paid off.”

“I like to come to the border, see if I can maybe see some humans sometimes. I don’t know why, it’s just something I like to do.”

“I’m guessing your family don’t see it that way?”

Jaal shakes his head but doesn't offer me any more explanations.

“Especially your father.” His silence tells me everything I need to know. “And your mother?”

“My mother is dead.”

My stomach drops to the floor, thinking of this boy alone with a brute of a father and no mother to comfort him. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Jaal.”

Taking his eyes off the ground, his gaze finally meets mine. “It’s okay. I never knew her. She died when I came out of her.”

It tears at my heart, but it doesn’t surprise me. Childbirth is one of the most dangerous times for women, and when that woman is bearing an orcling then the risks must go up considerably. There’s still much to learn about the inter-breeding of the species. In fact, we have hardly got started.

All I know in this moment is that I feel for this boy growing up without the love and care of a mother, and for the woman who lost her life giving birth to him. There is a cruelty to this world that can seem ceaseless.

“I am very sorry to hear that, Jaal. And I can tell you that your mother would be incredibly proud of you. You have acted like a true hero today, and if she were here then I would tell her so.”

Something in his face lights up, and now I desperately want to be able to tell his father that this child should be commended for his actions today, even if he has disobeyed him. There must be a way that I am able to do this.

My thoughts are disturbed by long, low howls travelling across the treetops. Wolves. We need to find shelter, immediately. One animal encounter is enough for today.

“Jaal, do you know anywhere we can take shelter for the night? It’s very important now.” I try not to show him the panic that I’m feeling. I’m the adult after all.

“I do,” he says, and the relief is something that I take a second to breathe into. “Come, Candice, it’s this way,” he says, taking my hand in his.

7

BORAK

“Try the east of the border!” I shout to two of the men, “And make haste!”

The sun set hours ago and still nothing. I have sent men across the whole of our territory and still there is no sign of him. They are tired and need to be fed but I cannot stop. This is my child and I have never felt as fearful as I do now—there are too many dangers out there that he could encounter, and he is but seven years old.

The howling of the wolves is just another reminder of what creature lives among us. They are usually no threat to a grown orc unless the pack is big, but to a child like Jaal they could be fatal. He would stand little chance against any of the large predators that roam these lands.

Even grown orcs have succumbed to bears and large cats on times. They are more accustomed to this landscape than we are, and we constantly find ourselves having to deal with such matters. As orcs we are skilled in the kill, but they are too, and they move through these lands with silence and proficiency.

I try not to think about it and to keep focused on what I need to do—find my son. We have been searching for hours and though I am fearful I have to stay strong. It is the orc way; it is my way.

For some reason my mind travels back to the day of his birth. It is not something I have ever thought of since it happened, and yet now it will not leave me. Seeing his moss-green skin as he was tossed to me wrapped in only his mother’s blood.

Never would I have believed I could feel that way about an orcling. He was unplanned and meant to be a much needed and welcome addition to our numbers. But he was more than that. And after seeing his mother die as she birthed him there was no question that he would remain with me as my son.

I intended to breed, but I did not intend to be a father. Having been raised by one that was cruel I did not know how to be one. Even worse, deep inside I worried that I may have ended up like he was.

The very thought of it makes me feel sick. Have I been a good father? I certainly never have treated Jaal the way I was treated and yet he is such a sad, discontented child. I have always assumed it was because he did not have a mother. But deep down the dark thought eats at me—that I am the problem.

I should have been there to protect him, and I should have been more efficient in the way that I disciplined the child. If I had been, then we would not be scouring the landscape for him right now.

“Deeper into the forest, and be sure to stay alert,” I command to another few of my warriors. We’re not usually out here once the sun has set, though I make a mental note to learn more and train more when it comes to nighttime missions.

The temperature has dropped substantially, yet another thing to worry about. Orcs are strong but our bodies still feel the cold, and his is only small. I take some comfort from knowing that he will try to find shelter if he can. He is not strong or made for the battle yet, but he has enough about him in other ways. At least I can be thankful for that now, even if I was not before.

He has disappointed me bitterly in many ways, from his mild manner to his lack of interest in the ways of the orcs—battle and war. The child can barely look anyone in the eye without quaking and, time after time he has disobeyed me and brought shame to me by running off in this way.

Yet he is still my child. He is dear to me and even though the rage I feel towards him now is more than I have ever felt, all I want is to see him safely returned to me. Whatever happens from there I will deal with.

“Manuk!” I roar. In next to no time Manuk is beside me. “Bring me the most experienced hunters in the clan. And be quick! The night grows far too old and as yet we have had not a single sign of my son.”

“Yes, Chief,” he says, disappearing as fast as he got there.

Within a minute or two Manuk returns with a young one. “Is this him—the best we have?”

“Yes, he is young but one of the most capable we have—a skilled and natural hunter.”

I eye him, suspiciously, wondering how someone so young can be so skilled. “We’ll see,” I say. “If you find my son you will be rewarded.”

The young one bows his head. “I will do my best to find him, Chief. I know of some places in this area that could be used for shelter, I have used then myself and scouted for them should I ever need them.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let us go.” At this point I am counting on this young hunter; he is all I have when it comes to tracking my son.

Right away he takes off and I can see he knows this place well. We travel quickly through the trees and across hills stopping first at a cave, then at an old ruin of a cabin and lastly at the entrance to an uprooted tree that has pulled open the ground like a gaping mouth.

But still nothing.

My anger increases, though I tell the young one to continue. There must be other possibilities, this place is vast and sprawling. That is the thing that worries me now. The wilderness is pitch black and there is little chance of seeing anything.

“We could try the cave system at the border’s edge,” he says.

“There is a cave system?”

“Yes—though I have not had a chance to fully explore the area yet.”

I make another mental note to have this young orc come to council when this is done. He has skills and knowledge that we need to fully utilize.

“How far away?” I press.

“As far as our territory takes us, near to the human settlement. I did not mention it as I thought it would be too far for the boy to—”

“Move!” I interrupt. I do not wish to hear his excuses though I know the reason for my anger is more to do with Jaal’s preoccupation with visiting the border and trying to catch a glimpse of humans than this young hunter’s assumptions.

The young one leads us on for what seems like an eternity, though in reality it is probably little more than half an hour. Eventually, a wall of black meets us in the near distance.

“This is the cliff-face,” says the hunter. There seem to be various entrances and from what I’ve seen before some are more accessible than others, which are shallow.

All I can feel is my heart pumping, hoping beyond hope that this is the place. I cannot lose this child. It is my duty to protect him—even from himself.

“What is that?” I say, peering into the inky night. There is movement in the distance, though it does not seem to hold much form.

“It’s smoke,” says the hunter. “Coming from one of the cave mouths.”

Through the darkness I now see it—smoke billowing out and up into the sky.

Digging my heels into my mount I surge forward. It must be him. It has to be. I do not know what I will do if it isn’t.

Jaal.

8

BORAK

I scout ahead of my soldiers, determined to find the source of the smoke. If it’s Jaal, I have some choice words for him. He had no business rallying the clan and upsetting his father to merely camp out in the woods by himself.

He’s not grown yet, and I have rules, damn it.

I keep my expression neutral, if not furious, when I reach the cave entrance. “Jaal!” I bellow, “Come out where I can see you!”

There’s a scuff of shoe on stone, a scrape.

Then, in the shadow of the little fire, someone emerges. I expect to see Jaal’s guilty face, or at least his proud one. I’d be proud to box his ear if he bore his tusks at me, but I don’t think he’s capable of such raw disobedience. He’s too clever for his own good.

But it’s not Jaal.

My disappointment is only overshadowed by my irritation. My heart sinks when I see a woman leaning on a branch, her tenacious dark eyes finding mine. I hate to admit that I like how she glares at me, unafraid of my size and power.

The woman has a shadow.

My eyes flash to him, who lurks behind her lanky frame. Jaal.

I firm my jaw and abstain from sighing in relief. He must feel the heat of my disappointment, if he’s to learn from the errors of his ways. I will not show him that I’ve been frantic in my search to find him. My soldiers approach from the behind as I snarl. “Boy- you have caused no end of grief with the clan today. If you expect it to go unpunished-”

“He’s not going to go with you,” she interrupts, her voice airy but firm. “I won’t let you take him. He’s afraid of you.”

A snarl finds me. I will not be told off by some injured human, no matter how pretty her defiant mouth is. My soldiers collectively pause at the disrespect, and I must maintain my reputation, or else risk word getting out that I’ve gone soft. She looks as if she could hardly take a blow, but I let her think I might strike, stepping forward with fists clenched. Her eyes flash briefly with worry before it’s smothered by resolve as I continue. “That is not your decision to make, human. And if you were smart, you’d run back to your people and never tread on Twilight Reaper territory again.”

“I’m not exactly capable of running, at the moment.” Even her grimace is handsome. “So, you must forgive me if I don’t.”

I’m impressed. That doesn’t happen often.

My men want me to put her in her place. I feel their energies building behind me. Do something about her, or the rest will be made bolder by your mercy, they seem to quietly demand. But when have I ever conceded to their demands?

I am the Chieftain, not they.

I cut a hand through the air to silence their murmurs. “Enough of this,” I say to all parties, keeping my red eyes on her. “Give me my son.”

“No,” she says simply.

I should be furious by now. Defiant little thing. I could break her with one errant squeeze, but she’s standing firm against a troupe of trained orcish soldiers, with only a whelpling to protect her. My useless whelpling.

She seems emboldened by the standoff, the tawny flesh of her cheeks heating with an angry blush. With Jaal’s slender hands on her shoulders, she introduces herself. “My name is Candice Lark. Your son saved my life, and I won’t surrender him to the first orcs that find us, even if he does belong to you. Can’t you see he’s terrified of you?”

My next words are a growl. “As he should be.”

Her shapely mouth forms a thin line.

I grunt with impatience and point a finger at my son. “Grab him,” I say to the shifting orcs behind me.

My soldiers approach, but the woman, Candice, shuffles back and holds up her stick against them. “Don’t you dare hurt him. I don’t care if you are his father!”

“Who are you to question me?!” I can’t hold back my fury any longer. “That is my son you are holding captive, and you are lucky I do not find my recompense in your hide. Give me the boy, now!” I reach for him, grabbing hold of his slender wrist when a warm hand chases over the stiff hairs of my arm.

She squeezes as tightly as she can manage, staring hard into my eyes. “Please-”

There’s a brief moment where I can’t move. Her eyes have locked me in place, and it seems to last an eternity. Candice is not afraid for herself, she’s afraid for my son, who’s yellow gaze flashes with true fear. Her touch excites my flesh, sending a ripple of pleasure through me that doesn’t belong in this standoff.

It nearly jars me from my task.

I remember myself and jerk Jaal away from her. Her ankle collapses beneath her, and she hits the ground hard. I barely used my strength, but it was enough to send her sprawling. A pathetic whine escapes through her clenched teeth, and she cradles her injured appendage.

Jaal tears out of my grip and returns to her side.

I’m confused by their interaction.

He kneels and fusses over her like those weak spined humans tend to do. I cannot defy his roots, and it ignites that wrath inside me that I’m known for. But when he looks up at me with fire in his eyes, I stall.

“Stop it, father!” He finally does bare his tusks at me. “She’s my friend.”

I look at him in surprise, then at her, then back again.

Whatever has happened between them, it roused a protective side of Jaal that I’ve never seen before. She’s brought out the thing I’ve been searching for since his birth. Not once has he ever displayed such resolve, and I like it.

No one sees my cocked grin.

Jaal is too busy helping the woman, and the woman is in too much pain to notice when I rumble with laughter. “Fine,” I say to no one in particular. “-if this is how it has to be.”

I look her over again, reconsidering.

We don’t keep humans like other clans tend to, but this one is different. I can sense it in her stubborn disposition, especially in the face of a Chieftain known for his wrath. She stood between an orc and his offspring and has lived to tell the tale. I don’t think I want to let this one go so easily back to her people.

My soldiers shift uncomfortably, waiting for my next instruction.

“You’re coming back with us, Jaal.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I interrupt. “The woman, too. Do not test my patience. I’ve had quite enough from you today, you, who should have been in your quarters, not cavorting about in the woods with a human woman.”

“Father-”

“I’ll hear not another word,” I say as calmly as I can manage. “I am the Chieftain, and that is the end of it.”

The woman issues a frown, but says nothing against it.

Isn’t she afraid? She was so bold, I thought it might have been fearlessness. But I’m coming to realize it’s more likely foolishness. She’ll learn soon enough, that Borak the Wrathful is not one to be crossed.

9

CANDICE

I hold my hands open in appeasement as one of the soldiers hoists me upon the large mount. My legs splay wide, and I clutch at the saddle horn to keep from slipping. I’m an experienced rider, but the horses in Bunker 32 have been bred for human riders, kept selectively small even as wild mammals have grown.

The creature turns its head towards me, and soft brown eyes blink, placid. The soldier barks a command, and my thighs tighten on the saddle as we move. Beneath me, the soldier walks, content to lead the beast toward their base.

Perhaps I should have put up a fight, but the howls of the wolves are close. I know I wouldn’t survive a night on the run. Not by myself.

Besides, I don’t get the impression these men will harm me. I'd thought that Jaal’s father might, but his shove had felt more like a kitten batting at a fly than a devastating blow from an orc soldier.

Jaal and his father ride the creature next to mine. His father sneers derisively when my face bounces against the neck of my mount as we increase our pace downhill, and Jaal frowns up at him.

“She’s nice,” he says. I notice the shy tone he’d taken with me is gone. This is a boy used to demanding things from his father. “You must treat her well.”

“I must.” From Jaal’s stories, I’d expected the man to backhand his son for any sign of insolence. Instead, his incredulous tone shifts into the exasperation I remember well from my own father on the days my brothers wandered home well past curfew. “What I must do is have a talk with you once we get back.”

He isn’t at all what I expected. He’s ferocious, sure. Terrifying, actually. If he visited my bunker, he’d have to stoop at the waist to avoid scraping his head against our concrete ceiling.

But I catch the worry in his eyes as he steals glances at his son, and the way he smooths the boy’s forehead with the palm of his hand, and the protective way he cradles his body whenever their mount’s path becomes bumpy. Whatever else this orc might be, he’s a loving father.

An hour passes. I busy myself by diagnosing imaginary patients and mentally reviewing my medicinal inventory back home. Eventually, though, I find my eyes drifting towards the stars as Jaal’s father makes up constellations and ancient war stories.

“Rarlak possessed a sword, the most powerful sword in all of Thful, which was the most powerful land in Golad. Golad is where the greatest warriors found themselves in rest, where the kings of kings resided.

“And Rarlak was a pretender. He climbed the mountains into the stars, and he fought the beasts of Yton and outwitted the Watchers and the Wraiths and the most clever generals and the most honorable chiefs. He won the sword, and he could have resided in the most golden of resting places for all of eternity.”

“But he didn’t,” Jaal says, with the cadence of a boy who’s been told a story so often he can recite it by heart.

“He didn’t,” his father agrees. “He stole the sword back to his clan, and he could have united all the clans beneath his rule, and reigned as emperor until the last of his days. He could have turned his enemies into the dust beneath his feet, and avenged his parents and his brothers and his friends.”

“But he didn’t.”

“But he didn’t. Instead, Rarlak took the sword and cut down, down, down, until he reached the bowels of his world, where the souls of the damned dwell and rot and fade. Because that was where his love remained. And he traded the sword to the King of the Dead, and turned the world dark and cold for centuries to come.”

“And she was angry.”

“Oh, she was furious,” he agrees again. “But she was alive and in his arms, and Rarlak didn’t care what it cost to keep her. You see? That is the sword, there. And that is their eternal embrace.”

Either he’s a fantastic storyteller, or he’s borrowed the stories from his planet of origin. The words don’t have the gruff, laconic cadence he’d shown when we met. It must be a story he knew from before, perhaps told by his own father when he was a child, and he’s borrowed our stars.

Do they ever miss it?

The orcs have taken over Earth so thoroughly that sometimes I forget they ever hailed from anywhere else. I’ve never even considered if they want to be here, on a foreign planet, with their birth rates and magic mysteriously fading.

I mull it over as we climb towards a massive building. The bones beneath the architecture are human, but the orcs have added their own touches. Soldiers carved from stone line the wall constructed around the building, and creatures I’ve never seen have been etched along the entire structure. Their alien forms dance in the light of the torches above.

Archers line the top of the wall. Orcs are always ready for war, and it isn’t until a soldier whistles a code that their bows relax and point away from our party.

The gates before us are as tall as the small hills beside my bunker. I must tilt my head until my chin points at the night sky in order to see the rounded top in its entirety. Owls call in the distance, and I expect to be led on some quiet, private path through the walls. It’s much too late to open these gates; the noise would wake the entire clan. I can’t imagine the chief will be pleased to be woken up by the return of a small child.

To my shock, drums sound, their percussion reverberating across the valley. The massive gates groan and clank as they slide open. A small procession of soldiers bow as we pass through the large metal arcs, and I think that it’s a bit much for the middle of the night. Then I notice that all of the Twilight Reapers present are bowing, including the soldiers who have accompanied us as we traversed through the woods.

“Chief Borak.” The orc speaking is impressive, with a deep, bombastic baritone and a scar across his cheek. He bows. “Your quarters are ready. It is good to have you home so soon.”

Chief?

Jaal must have missed that detail. I shoot the boy a look, but his father is already pushing him inside the base where two women help him inside and fuss over him.

A soldier helps me dismount, and I fail to hide a wince as my full weight bears down on my leg. I don’t think anyone notices, but Borak is already turning towards one of his men.

“Fetch a shaman,” he orders.

“No.” The full weight of Borak’s attention falls to me, and I almost squirm. His eyes are red, like the clover I grind to cure colds and coughs. “I’m a doctor. I am more than capable of treating myself.”

His gaze grows even more intense, and my cheeks flush. It’s like he’s staring through my soul. My eyes drop to my feet, as if studying their state, in order to escape it.

He grunts, back to his usual eloquent self. “Very well.”

He says nothing else as he walks inside, flanked by soldiers. I watch the powerful expanse of his back as he walks past me. It ripples and dances beneath his tunic, and for some reason I find myself blushing even more.

What a strange night with a strange man. He’s rude and brutish and he’s taken me far from my home. I should hate him.

And yet. My mind plays over the care he’d shown for his son, and the story from a home far away. Despite myself, I think he actually doesn’t seem so bad.

10

BORAK

Jaal’s nursemaids fall silent as I enter the boy’s room. They are reading to him, as if he were an infant, and have piled blankets up to his chin. I pinch the bridge of my nose. It’s no wonder my son is so soft, if this is how his carers treat him in my absence. I have overcompensated in the wake of his mother’s death, and now I am paying the price.

Our entire clan will pay it if he remains this soft.

“Enough of this.” The nursemaids avoid my glare. One of them surreptitiously squeezes his hand before she gives his shoulder a reassuring pat. They coddle him like a toddling babe. I resolve to speak with them in the morning. “Jaal. We must talk.”

The boy nods, unsurprised. He is well-accustomed to late night lectures, even if this transgression is his worst yet. I am relieved that his face remains impassive and strong, but then I catch the slight tremble in his large green hand as he pulls his bedsheets aside. Jaal’s arms cross over his chest in a human-like fashion, as though he is protecting his organs from a predator’s attack.

You are the predator. I have told him this many times, but it makes no difference. His intolerable human traits betray us both, time after time.

The trip to my room is short. His room is directly across the hall from mine. Nine years ago, I woke up to his every cry. No one dared speak against this, but I saw the glances. It is not a father’s place to do as I have done. Without a mother to care for him, I stepped in too often. Even with the nursemaids, I found myself besotted with my son, eager to hear his first words and see his first steps and sometimes just watch him be with his curious eyes and clever mind. It wasn’t until recently I realized what a terrible father I’d really been. I have not prepared him adequately for his inherited title.

This is as much my fault as his.

I close the heavy door behind us and latch it so that none may enter. Jaal’s eyes flick upwards at the click of the lock, but his face remains impassive.

“You must cease this obsession you have with the humans across the border. You know this. You are already grounded for this.”

Jaal does not reply. Silence is his weapon, and he wields it well. My voice booms as I lecture the boy, but his nonresponse sets my blood boiling.

“If you are to lead this clan, you must take your training seriously. Gogar has informed me of every class you have missed in this month alone, and that on the days you do attend, you watch from the rafters.”

Jaal shrugs.

“These boys are your peers! How will you lead them in the future if they defeat you in battle?”

Jaal shrugs yet again.

This boy. He inherited my stubborn streak, at least.

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”

“The woman.” Jaal juts his chin out, petulant. “She was hurt.”

“The woman?” I am confounded. What in this prepared lecture had anything to do with the health and safety of some human woman he happened to find wandering in the woods alone like an imbecile? I frown, wishing to direct the conversation back to the topic of duty and responsibility. “She’s fine.”

“I wish to see her.” He says this imperiously. If I were a stronger father, I would strike him for his impudence.

Instead, an idea forms.

My son cares nothing for duty, to my shame and his dishonor. But I am not above using underhanded methods to stoke his participation.

“I grant you permission to visit with the human woman,” I say, “after Gogar reports to me that you have attended your classes and trained with vigor tomorrow.”

Jaal’s eyes darken and his hands clench at his side. “That’s not fair!”

My son is obsessed with this human notion of fairness. I may never understand why he is so upset that the strong rule over the weak, as is the natural order of life, but I am not above using it towards my own gain.

“Fairness is an exchange, yes?” I mime measuring the weight of something with both hands. “You want me to take care of this human woman, and I want you to make something of yourself. Your attitude and attention in your classes will determine this woman’s fate.”

Jaal looks at me like he can’t recognize who I am, as if it were a stranger who held him when he cried, or patched him up after a childhood fall.

His eyes are so very like his mother’s. They glare at me before he storms off, slamming the door behind him. The windows rattle in his wake.

He doesn’t need to say anything. I know my son. He will attend classes in the morning, and his afternoon training. And maybe, just maybe, he will listen to a few of the words coming out of my mouth.

This human woman has become quite valuable, and not only to attempt to keep my son in line. She’d called herself a doctor, a human shaman, able to heal and create potions without the help of magic.

Our shamans are powerful, but the magic has faded drastically in such a short period of time. Only weeks before, they were unable to heal the leg of a soldier who had fallen from his mount, and my kind do not have the necessary knowledge to heal without sorcery. It wasn’t until a human servant suggested they bind the leg in the meantime and offer him bark from a special tree to chew that he found any sort of relief.

Humans are weak, but clever. I want my shamans to learn as many healing tricks from this woman as they can. We can’t afford to lose our healing abilities mid-battle, and it seems as though magic fades more every day. Almost as if the planet itself is rejecting us.

Or changing us.

I rub my hands across my face and fall heavily upon my bed. The springs creak and groan. Now isn’t the time for an existential crisis. Whether the planet wants my kind or not is irrelevant. We are strong; we have taken it. It is ours by right of conquest.

Just as I’ve taken the woman from…wherever it is she is from. Probably the human colonies along the border. She must have a family there, or friends. A husband, perhaps. She’s too attractive not to be taken by someone, with her delicate features and soft, short black hair.

The thought of a husband waiting for her sours my stomach, as does the thought of a distraught parent searching the mountains for her just as I had for Jaal. For a brief, searing moment, I consider what I would have done if I’d searched for him all night, only to find out that he’d been stolen from me by another clan.

Enough. She brought this on herself, wandering alone in the woods unarmed.

If anything, she’s lucky that Jaal and I arrived. I have no doubt that we saved her life. Even I do not go in the woods alone, and I have no doubt that I could fight most of the gargantuan wildlife with nothing but my fists.

Perhaps she had no choice. I’ve heard of the humans sometimes expelling one of their clansmen into the wilderness, although that punishment is typically reserved for the worst criminal sort. This woman does not have the eyes of a murderer, or the slick tongue of the usual human miscreant.

She looks…kind. Like someone who cares.

I see why my son has become so attached. Hopefully having a human for him to speak with will curb his curiosity about the settlements at the border, and also remind him that he is more orc than human.

But first I want to speak with her once more. If she’s to be any sort of influence on my son, I need to discover who she is.

11

CANDICE

Gerrin, the elderly orc woman Borak has sent to accompany me to my room has a kind and calm manner. I don’t know what I am more surprised by at this stage—the manner of these orcs or the fact that I get my own room.

Though she is elderly, she is still strong and show no signs of slowing down. I have not come across many elderly orcs and I’m keen to understand the aging process of the species. Her grey hair and weathered face are the only things that betray her age. Other than that, she seems fighting fit.

We make our way across the stronghold. It is an impressive building, almost fortress-like in the way it is constructed with timbers and stone. Something that I recognize from our oldest history books.

In the center is what seems to be a courtyard and surrounding the huge building the walls are lined with guards. This is a clan that is ready to defend itself—mighty and almost regal. As we make our way across the grounds, I can’t help but be impressed by their skills and ingenuity in constructing this place, and find myself wondering how they lived back on Protheka.

“This way,” says Gerrin, ushering me up some steps and onto a balcony that looks down upon the courtyard. Around this balcony rooms are placed, their doors large and ornate. Gerrin leads me down the walkway and then stops, pushing open a door.

“This will be yours,” she says. “Come along, come along. We need to take a look at that leg.”

“Thank you,” I say, entering the large room that is sparse yet still comfortable. I am so tired that any room would be welcome at this point. The wooden walls give the space a warm and inviting feel and scent.

“Set yourself down,” she says. “Take the weight of that leg.”

The height of the bed is much greater than a human one, and I almost have to jump to get on it. When I am up, I let out a deep, satisfied sigh. My ankle and leg are throbbing, and I am now starting to ache from the ride here. But relief starts to take over, even if it is only small as my body begins to rest.

“That’s it, you get comfortable,” says Gerrin.

When there is a knock at the door, she calls for whoever is there to come in. Two men arrive, one human and one orc.

“This is our healer,” she informs me, “and this is our doctor,” gesturing to the elderly human. He walks towards us and presses his hand to the back of Gerrin in a genuine show of affection. “He is also my husband and mate,” she says.

“I wear many hats,” says the doctor, smiling. Just like his wife he is gentle and mild-mannered. His balding head still clings on to some white hair that grows long at the back.

The surprises keep on coming. A female orc and a male human. I haven’t heard of such a union yet. As far as I knew, male orcs were taking human partners to breed with, so this is new for me.

“This is going to be your room for now, so make yourself comfortable and rest. It has been a long night for everyone.” Gerrin smiles down upon me, her yellow eyes radiating warmth and just looking into them makes me feel comforted.

Her husband approaches me and hands me some supplies, while the healer merely watches as if he is here to study what the doctor is doing. “I’ve heard we have something in common,” he says, a gentle smile on his face. “I’ll leave these with you. They should be enough for a few days, but I have more pain relief if you need it in the meantime.”

I take the supplies from him and thank him. “Thanks, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to take a look?” he asks.

“Thank you, I can manage.”

He nods and steps back, making his way to the door. “If you need anything then just send for me,” he says, before leaving with the healer.

“I hope you will get some rest now,” Gerrin says. “And do not worry yourself about anything. Borak’s reputation is indeed a formidable one, but despite this he is fair to everyone and I think you will find this clan to be decent.”

From everything I have seen up until now, her words would seem truthful. So far, even though we may have got off to a bad start with Jaal at the cave, they have been nothing but decent to me even though I would prefer to be at the bunker tonight and not in an orc stronghold.

“He certainly looks ferocious, and from what Jaal told me he is not the best of parents.”

“That boy cannot decide where or what he is,” says Gerrin. “But he is loved by his father, this much I know.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, curiously.

“Jaal is a wonderful orcling. But he can be difficult even when Borak tries to accommodate some of his odd ways. Borak can be stern, but I have never seen him be cruel to the child.”

“Did he not lock him up and beat him?”

Gerrin laughs, the deep sound filling the room. “Is that what you have been led to believe?”

“Well, yes,” I say, trying not to sound and look like the fool.

“I can assure you Jaal is not locked up and beaten. But he has been wandering much too far from the stronghold—to the borders even—which is why he was confined to his quarters.”

“Yes, this much I’ve gathered.” Maybe that is the only truth I am aware of at this point. I think of the way Jaal acted around his father—not necessarily a child in distress. And then I think of the way Borak held him and told him stories—not necessarily a brute of a father.

“He is the Chieftain’s son after all and there is much that rests on his small shoulders. One day he will be chief himself. Maybe it is time that the boy grew up a little. We can’t have the chief and his best men running around chasing him. This puts everyone at risk.”

I can certainly see her point.

“It is a mother’s touch that the boy needs if you ask me. The chief is a good father, but he is still the chief and does not have the time to devote to a child.”

Once again, I feel pity for Jaal. With the chieftain as his father and no mother he must indeed feel neglected on times. Orcs work hard and chiefs the hardest.

“Maybe you are right,” I say, feeling the ache in my heart.

“But that is not for us to concern ourselves with. It is Borak’s business. Now if you have everything you need, I will leave you and take to my own bed.”

“I do, thank you.”

“Until tomorrow, Candice.”

“Until tomorrow, Gerrin. And thank you, for everything.”

Once she has gone, I apply my healing balm and take the pain relief. Then I climb into the huge bed and pull the covers over me. Already I can feel myself drifting off into sleep. But even though my body is desperate for it, my mind is still working, processing.

I wonder about my family—they must be besides themselves with worry. It’s too hard to even think about what they must be going through, and I wish I could reach out to them and tell them that I am safe and well.

My head and my heart feel heavy with burdens. The pain of my family, the concern for the child. Tomorrow I must get back. Whatever happens between an orc child and his father is not my concern.

I have my own family, and tomorrow, as soon as I rise I will ask Borak to be returned to them. I don’t belong here.

I need to get home.

12

BORAK

As soon as the messenger leaves, unease seeps into my bones.

I’ve pictured this conversation going a thousand different directions, but now that she’s on her way, I can’t focus. I can only wonder if she’ll hate me for keeping her captive.

I don’t think I’ll like the answer.

Maybe she’ll see reason, and understand why I must do this. She is not too young to have whelped her own offspring, but by the slight curve of her hips, it’s doubtful she has. I banish the image of her slender body for the sake of focus.

A hearty breakfast is laid out on the table, where I often meet with my clan members. I won’t submit her to starvation while I steal her future from her. She should be content, among the Twilight Reapers, or as content as I can afford her to be. I still have to think about Jaal, and how the woman spurs his protective instincts.

I grimace as a knock comes. “Come in,” I say.

Urog opens the door, and Candice slips inside before it shuts behind her. Her face is not wet with tears but defensive, her lips pursed like she’s trying not to say something. She observes me from this distance, her gaze only briefly flickering down to the breakfast I’ve had prepared for her. How do I look to her? I have to wonder.

My tone is commanding and stern. “Sit down.”

She doesn’t obey. “I’d rather not.”

“Why?” I stand, myself, jarring the table as I rise. “Is my company so distasteful that you cannot share a meal with me?”

“That’s not it at all,” she says with a dismissive air, her eyes drifting to the door behind her. “As generous as you are, Chieftain, my family must be distraught with worry by now. I’ve been gone for days, and they need to know I’m okay.”

Why does my gut churn when she looks at me like that? Pleading and silent, as if I’ll find it in me to be reasonable. Doesn’t she know who I am? “Sit, Candice.”

Her eyes flare when I say her name, but she finally relinquishes.

When she’s seated, I offer her a plate.

She looks at it like she’s going to be ill. “About my request-”

“You’ll stay here for the time being,” I say, refusing to drag this out any longer. She can fuss all she likes, but she will hear what I have to tell her. “Right now, you belong to the Twilight Reapers.”

“Right now,” she echoes, her shoulders slumping. “How long do you plan on keeping me?”

“Indefinitely.”

She freezes, then glares up at me. “You can’t do this.”

“I can, and I will.” I lean forward, hating that it has to come to this, but I like the fire blooming in her heated gaze. “I am the Chieftain, and my people obey me. That is how this works.”

“But- my brothers will try to look for me. They could get killed-”

“That’s not my concern.” I think back on Jaal and his need for motivation. “You’ll stay here under my supervision for the time being. Jaal likes you, and for some reason he’s grown attached to your safety.”

She blanches and licks her lips. “You’ve taken me as a prize for your son?”

Something between a growl and groan escapes me. She would be a captivating gift for any worthy orc, but not my son. “I’ve taken you as collateral. Jaal was born too agreeable. I blame his mother for such weakness, but she is no longer around to take responsibility.”

Candice takes in a shaky inhale.

She must think I killed her. Shame grips me at the thought. Maybe I am responsible for her death, but it had never been my intent to have a child with her. My jaw slides to one side as I bear her silent accusation and return to the subject at hand. “He needs motivation to continue his studies. You are going to be that motivation.”

“And if he doesn’t listen to you,” she says in a whisper, “then what?”

“You’re my guest, here. Behave, and you’ll find life in this clan can be surprisingly easy.” I soften my expression and sigh. “I have no intention of harming you, Candice. Eat. The food is getting cold.”

“I’m not hungry,” she says, her resolve crystalizing. “And you can’t control your son like this. What kind of father are you, threatening me to get him to do your bidding?”

“He will be the next Chief!” I bellow, baring my tusks at her. My next words are dark with promise. “And you will do well to stay out of my business, if you enjoy any freedom at all.”

She glares at me with a wounded expression, saying nothing.

I tear a leg free of the bird and take a furious bite. Must she refuse my peaceful gestures? She won’t eat, and she won’t show a hint of gratitude after my doctor cared for her wounds. Other clans would have passed her around at the bonfire, taking their fill of her tawny flesh. I, at least, have attempted to be civil, despite my reputation. I’d hoped she’d reciprocate, or at least understand my dilemma with Jaal.

Maybe, I was too harsh in my threat, and I do my best to renege. “His mother was human,” I say, setting the leg down and wiping my mouth on a sleeve. “I didn’t- anticipate having a child, and I’ve never been very good at raising him on my own.”

Her lips tighten further.

“But I’m doing my best with what I know.”

She casts her furious gaze down, as if she can’t look at me.

I consider her slight frame, and her tightly weaved fingers where the bones threaten to break her delicate skin. “I might not be a good father, but I love my son, enough to rally my whole clan in search of him. I- feared the worst, when he was gone for so long.”

“I can’t imagine you’re afraid of anything,” she mumbles.

“I was terrified.” I haven’t admitted this to anyone, but it slips out before I think better of it. And it’s the truth. “He’s my son, Candice. I’d do anything for him. And if keeping you around will make him a better orc, I’m not going to hesitate.”

Her head drops a little lower, and an errant tear hits her pants.

I want to console her. It’s not so bad. I’m not so bad. But I doubt she’ll hear a word I have to say. I’m her captor, and that’s the end of it. I bite my lip, considering what to do with her when she speaks.

“Let me go home.” Her eyes are full when they finally meet mine. “Please.”

My heart hardens against the pain her plea rouses. “I can’t do that.”

When I stand, she stands with me.

“Urog,” I call even as she issues another appeal, coming toward me with open hands that are shaking fiercely. “Take her back to her room, and make sure she has food available to her.”

My soldier catches her arm and leads her away.

Her protests make my ears burn. “Don’t do this, Borak- please. I’m begging you-”

I fall into my chair and consider her pained expression, and the look on her face when I told her what would become of her. Why couldn’t she just play her part until Jaal came into his prime? I could have demanded so much more from her, and instead I’ll be keeping her like a pampered human pet while she’s here with us.

Still, I feel sick.

“Thank you, Urog. We’re finished here.”

13

CANDICE

They may be bigger than me, more ferocious than me, but right now my anger could match theirs without a doubt. My hand cracks across the huge hand of the orc who is trying to drag me out and I see a mocking smile tug at his lips.

“Get off me!” I cry. “Don’t touch me!” Glaring at Borak I try my best to free myself from the orc’s grip, though I know I stand little chance.

“Leave her,” Borak commands.

The orc’s grip on me loosens and Borak becomes my main focus of attention. We glare at each other for a few awkward seconds. His eyes are locked onto mine and I search them for any sign that he is a decent orc and not someone who imprisons humans and uses them to manipulate young children.

But there is no backing down from him, as if I could expect that. Instead, I know that I need to get away from him before I say or do something that will harm my position here. So far I have been well looked after, even if I am not allowed to leave. I can’t jeopardize that by pissing off the chief.

Turning on my heel I storm out into the fresh air where I can cool down and begin to gather my thoughts. A sense of confusion and hopelessness tries to creep in, but I keep those feelings at bay as much as possible. I can’t succumb to any emotions at this point, I need to keep my mind and my wits about me.

I have no idea how I am going to leave this place, but I will. There will be a way out somehow, even if it takes longer than I could wish for to work out what it is. There will be a way around this—there always is.

Looking up at the large walls that surround me I feel suddenly that I am a prisoner. There is no way I could make my way past the walls and the guards that line them and watch the gates. They would be on within seconds. Whatever plans I make need to be well thought out. These orcs are skilled, well-trained and efficient.

Suddenly I have a new respect for Jaal. He has managed to abscond on several occasions though I have no idea how he has done it. It could be that he knows of weak spot in the stronghold’s walls. Somehow, he has been getting out of here, and if he can do it then so can I.

My thoughts turn to my parents. How they must be suffering knowing that anything could have happened to me. Both they and my brothers will be driven wild with worry. As the only girl in the family, I’ve always been cherished and treasured. They will be devastated to think that they may have lost me.

Movement catches my eyes and when I focus, I see that it’s Jaal. He’s running towards me with speed and determination, followed by two guards. He looks at me with such concern in his young eyes.

“Are you okay, Candice?” he asks.

This child melts my heart. He is so young and so small and yet he acts as if he’s my protector.

“Yes, of course I am, Jaal.” He does not take after his father in this respect at all. He’s looked out for me from the beginning, saving my life and protecting me from his father.

“What did my father want to speak with you about?” he asks, his face serious.

“Oh, nothing that exciting, Jaal. We were just discussing about medicine and supplies, and I was telling him about what I was doing in the forest when you found me. About the herbs I collect to make tinctures and the like.”

“Is that all?”

“And we discussed how I will be staying here for a few days.” The lie is out before I even know it, because despite the terrible attitude of Borak and the fact that he is detaining me here, I don’t want to impact their relationship further. It is at breaking point already.”

“Really?” he says, his red eyes dancing.

“Yes, just a few days,” I say, trying to convince myself that it won’t be any longer than that. Borak can’t expect to use me to control this boy. I am not his servant to do what he wishes with, and Jaal is his own son!

And yet, he could go about controlling him in much worse ways I reason. He’s a decent father, if a misguided one, and there’s something about his statement about lacking parenting abilities that makes me wonder if his past was somewhat dark.

“So, where are you going, Jaal?” I enquire.

His face drops but not too much, there is still that life and fire in his eyes. “Training.”

I look up at the guards that accompany him. He’s run off too many times now, so he stands little chance of being trusted to get there alone.

“Training, I see. Well, make good use of it now won’t you. You never know when you might need it,” I say, holding my hands up and trying to make light of the situation.

He smiles, a smile full of pride and self-assurance and it makes me so happy to see him this way. They are such a strange combination—the orc chief and his son. Perhaps they have both been wounded by their childhoods.

Borak obviously tries and wants to be the successful parent—maybe he is just another wounded soul, desperately trying to find his way along a road that is often dark and hidden from view. If that is the case, then I can understand why he struggles so much with the boy.

My anger at him subsides when I think of Borak as a child, no bigger than the one in front of me. I will talk to him again. Somehow, I should be able to convince him to let me go soon or at least get word to my family that I am safe and well. There is compassion in him, I sense it.

For now, I’ll deal with the child in front of me. Because just being with him lifts my spirits. I’ve never really spent much time around children and there is something about him that makes me feel alive. Who is this brave and strange little creature?

“Well, I have nothing to do now that I have met with your father, Jaal. I’d love to come to see you train. Maybe I could pick up a few skills. Obviously, I need them.”

He beams at me and I can feel the joy pouring from him.

“Would that be okay?” I ask the guards. “I won’t get in the way, I’ll just spectate.”

They look at each other and then at Jaal who must seem more excited than ever to be going to a training session.

“It would,” one of them says, a look of surprise on his face.

“Thank you. Okay then, Jaal, take me to the training ground. I can’t wait to see you in action.”

Jaal looks up at me with so much pride and joy I am glad he caught up with me this morning. I may not be here for long, but I will do my best to help him while I am as well as enjoy his company. He is like a breath of fresh air, and there is always something to learn about him.

He has already become special to me, and from the way he looks at me, I get the sense he feels the same way also. It’s a shame that our time together will be cut short when I leave here, I think I would enjoy getting to know him.

Because I am leaving, whether Borak agrees to it or not.

14

BORAK

I am pleased to see that Jaal has taken heed of what I have told him and is engaging in his training. What has shocked me even more is seeing the human woman accompanying him, watching from the sidelines as he practices.

From a distance I watch as she calls out to him, clapping her hands and shouting words of encouragement as he slices through the air with his weapons. For once—certainly the only time I have seen—my son seems to not just be willfully partaking in weapons training, but actually enjoying it.

He shows Candice his moves, and I see that he is not only enjoying it, he is… happy. His body is relaxed and loose, his face has both a determination and a sense of contentment on it, as though he were made for this.

I have never seen him perform so well and pride bursts in my chest. Where has he been hiding these skills? He is gliding through the air, slicing and stabbing at the training dummies as if he has been to battle many times.

He may dislike the idea of fighting, but he is certainly good at it. Brilliant even, for an orcling of his young age. Maybe I will make a chief out of him yet. There is plenty of time—I am planning on going nowhere. But it touches a place deep inside me that has always been afraid of what would come of him and our lineage, and sends it some relief.

“Excellent work, Jaal!” I hear her words in the distance as my son parades his skills in front of her, showing off everything he has to impress her. It is doing the job.

“I can do more than that!” he cries out, his voice small but determined.

“Then let me see it!” challenges the soldier that trains him.

I watch in awe as my son charges at him, his practice blade clashing with that of his sparring partner. Yet as soon as he meets him, he twists his small body, ducking and swiping at his legs. His strength isn’t enough to bring him down, but he does a good job, the soldier’s knee buckling.

A few quick moves and Jaal is upon him, slicing his blade across his stomach in a display that would have seen the soldier’s innards spilled if this was not a practice scenario.

My smile grows as the soldier’s comrade laughs, much to his gall.

“Taken down by a child,” he teases as the other grunts.

“Not just any child—Jaal the swiftest and deadliest there is,” says the woman.

Jaal beams and I can almost feel his pride from here. I had no idea he was capable of such things. And all of this with the small amount of training that he has received.

“I lost my footing,” says the orc.

“I think that was the point,” says Candice, making his friend burst into laughter.

There is something about this human woman. She is warm, confident and self-assured. It cannot also be ignored that she is beautiful.

Unlike many of the human females I’ve seen her dark hair is cropped short, almost as a man’s. Her body is lean and athletic, the muscles small yet well-defined under her warm, brown skin.

Women, whether orc or human, have rarely been of interest recently. I have enough to deal with as chieftain and with my son. But this woman intrigues me. I see why Jaal has become attached to her.

Iron, one of my most trusted men, steps up bedside me. “Maybe it is a mother figure that the boy needs in his life,” he says, almost as if reading my mind.

I don’t answer him, but that does not mean that what he says has fallen upon deaf ears. Quite the opposite, there has been a marked difference in Jaal since Candice came into his life. Iron could well be right.

“It may be a good idea to go to them—show Jaal that you appreciate his skills as much as she does.”

A part of me wants to, but another part fears that he will just retreat into his shell if he sees me. “I would not want to spoil his fun,” I say. “And he needs the practice. His commitment has been dire up until now. Let him start to enjoy his work.”

I leave and head back to my place of work, my mind turning as it processes what it has just witnessed. Never have I seen Jaal so engaged in his training and never have I seen him quite so happy.

Could it be that Iron is right?

I have been tough on the boy, I know that. Perhaps I have been too tough on occasion when what he needed was gentleness. A mother’s touch. A place where he could find sanctuary.

I should know what it is like not to have that and yet I have survived and fulfilled my role as chieftain. But Jaal is not like me. He may look like me, but there is a complexity to him that I find hard to fathom.

There are many things to concern myself with, though for the next few hours all that I need to do is lost underneath thoughts of Candice and of Jaal. It irritates me that someone can enter our lives and have such an effect, but I would not change it.

If it were not for Jaal coming upon her out there in the wilderness I would not have known what he was capable of—felling a bear of that size all by himself. Saving a human life and demonstrating the skills that he has kept hidden in order to gain her favor.

This version of my son is one that I have never had the pleasure of seeing. Brave, strong and determined. Skilled with a blade and capable of defending what is important to him. The way he has protected her, even from me, has shown me that he can one day make a worthy leader.

And it is all because of her. This woman that has just fallen into our laps. She is desperate to leave and see her family; I know that. But how can I let her go now when her presence has already had such an impact?

These are the thoughts that sling themselves around my confused mind and still I have no real answers.

From the knock on the door I know it is Iron. “Have they finished for the morning?” I ask him when he enters.

“Yes, and may I say that Jaal has exceeded himself today. He has demonstrated how quick and lethal he can be. He must take after his father in many respects,” he says.

I can tell he is being genuine and that the newfound spirit and skill in my son surprises and pleases him also.

“He has indeed. I grow more hopeful that whatever has been troubling him is now starting to wane. Underneath that previously feeble exterior there is a warrior waiting to come out.”

“I never doubted it, Borak. He is your son after all.”

He has had more faith in my own son than me. The same as Candice. I squash down the shame that threatens to rise from my belly—it is done now. From now on I will have the same.

“I want you to find out everything you can about that woman. I need to know everything about her.”

“Of course, Borak,” he says, bowing his head in reverence and leaving me alone with my thoughts again.

Whoever she is, Candice has made a huge impression on my son. I have no idea why and how she has managed to do more for him in a few days than I seem to have in years.

But I am going to find out.

15

CANDICE

I know that my family must be worried, but the past three days have been so full of Jaal that I nearly forgot that I am supposed to be trying to find my way back home. He’s been so excited to show me his skills, and he seems so eager to have someone’s attention that I can’t help myself.

My heart swells around the poor kid, and I lose myself in taking care of him. He has blossomed since I first met him, and I have grown steadily closer to him, so much so that it’s causing me to feel a little torn inside as I consider how he will react to me leaving.

I shake the thought from my head, refocusing as I watch the little orc spin on the mats in front of me. He laughs as he falls, but his instructor corrects his form, and he takes it very seriously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a slight movement. I tilt my head, spotting Borak as he slips down the hallway, his back to me. With one darting glance towards Jaal, I scramble out of the room and after his father.

I round the corner in time to see Borak turn down an adjoining hallway. I stumble after him, and I’m not sure if he’s seen me or if he just doesn’t care that I’m trying to get his attention.

“Borak!” I call after him, but he doesn’t slow. Instead, he vanishes from my vision and as I twist through the building, I can’t find him again.

I sigh, blowing my hair out of my face after wasting a few more minutes searching after the orc. I’m frustrated, knowing that I have lost valuable time after Borak shut down my request to see my family the first time.

I’ve been gone for so long now that I worry my family is going crazy looking for me. I know that they wouldn’t have written me off when the night fell without my return, unlike some other families I have witnessed.

I lean back against the wall, dragging a hand down my face. It’s killing me not to know where they are or how they are doing. They probably feel the same about me, and I know that as much as I’ve come to care about Jaal, I can’t just leave my family behind.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I weigh my options. I know that Borak is hell-bent on keeping me here, but I can’t be held a prisoner. I also don’t want to hurt Jaal by leaving, but I can’t torture my parents and brothers by staying here any longer. How can I get away?

Without much of a realization, I pick my way back to the training room, and I am relieved that Jaal’s back is towards the hallway. I don’t think he has even noticed that I left the room, his eyes still on his instructor as I slide back down on my seat.

They wrap up the lesson after a few more minutes, and once he is dismissed, Jaal bounds towards me with a massive smile. Words are flying out of his mouth before he even stops before me, the syllables tumbling over each other in such quick succession that I can barely keep up.

“Did you see what I did? Did you see my new move? I fell at first, but I think I’m getting it. What did you think of it?”

I reach forward and grip his shoulders, calming him down. “I think you did a fantastic job.” He beams brightly, and a soft smile slips onto my lips. “Are you hungry?”

Outside the sun is sinking low in the sky, and my stomach grumbles quietly in protest. It’s dinner time, but I wait for Jaal to nod his head enthusiastically before standing, giving him the choice to accompany me.

We walk through the halls to the dining room, and I’m quiet as Jaal rambles about his studies and his training. Guiltily, I realize that I’m not listening to him much at all as my mind is on my family still.

The fear and dread wrapping around my stomach are starting to feel suffocating, and I don’t know how much longer I can take this. I need my family to know that I am okay. It’s time for me to put my foot down.

When we enter the dining room, I’m not sure why I am even surprised to find it empty. The table is set and as soon as we approach our chairs, servants come bustling in with food that has been prepared just for us.

I partially expected to see Borak here, ready to eat with his son, and as the seconds tick by and Jaal starts to devour his food, I realize that his father must never eat with him. Jaal doesn’t seem surprised or even like he is expecting Borak to come.

I push my food around the plate, sorting through the words until I find the right way to ask him. “Jaal?” I ask, keeping my tone curious though I’m not worried about him telling his father anything we talk about.

The boy stills, and my stomach twists in the way he’s paralyzed for a moment at the sound of his own name. The tension in his muscles seeps out quickly, though, and that bright smile takes over his face once again.

“Yes?”

“Do you usually eat dinner alone?”

A muscle in his jaw feathers, but otherwise, his expression doesn’t change at my question. “I do.”

My mouth twists up to the side. “Do you enjoy having my company with you?”

He nods so violently that I’m worried he’s going to hurt himself. “I get lonely a lot.”

“A lot?” I suck in a deep breath, pressing harder than I feel I have a right to. “Are you always alone?”

He shrugs. “My dad is busy most of the time, and there are not many other children here.” My mind drifts back to the school where I met at least a dozen of them, but before I can point that out, he adds, “My dad worries about me being with others because he says I’m different and I should act like it.”

I can see the weight of Borak’s absence and expectations pushing down on Jaal’s shoulders, his small frame bowing under it. I reach across the table for his hand, and he peeks up at me as I whisper, “You are different. You are so smart and kind, and that is rare in this world. Hold on to that.”

The light in him shines brightly, and I allow him to direct our conversation back to easier topics, but I can’t help but think of his reaction to my questions. Borak needs to treat his son better, and it is time that I talk to him about it. I’ve sat quietly for too long watching it happen.

Once we finish eating, I accompany Jaal to his bedroom and help him ready for the night. By the time the small orc has drifted off, it’s approaching nine, and I am certain that Borak will be returning to his quarters soon.

I slip out of Jaal’s room and pick my way through the dark hallways towards Borak’s private quarters. I’m not sure if he is in there or not, and I consider knocking just in case. Before I can decide if that would enrage him, I hear heavy footsteps coming my way.

I turn and see Borak’s looming figure at the other end of the hallway. With my small frame in the shadows, though, I don’t think he sees me. In fact, I can hear him softly muttering to himself, his head slightly bowed like he’s lost in thought.

As he approaches his doors, I jump out in front of him, and he stumbles back, his hand automatically going for the weapon at his side. He blinks a few times before he sees that it’s me and relaxes, and I wonder what is so prevalent on his mind that he was blind to his surroundings.

I push the thought out of my mind, crossing my arms and jutting out my hip as I ask in a demanding manner, “Can we talk?”

16

BORAK

I stumble back as Candice leaps out in front of me, and my mind had been so far elsewhere I hadn’t even noticed that she was near. I nearly laugh at how surprised I am when she was the very thing consuming my thoughts.

I drop my hand from my belt, letting my eyes run down her body. I’m not sure what it is about her, but I am drawn to her. It’s confusing, and it’s part of the reason I have been distracted since I found her in that cave.

At first, I denied the thought that she was attractive, but I can’t any longer. Her short hair frames her face so beautifully, that I forget to answer her question, and silence falls over us as we stare at each other.

She’s so different around me than she is with Jaal, and it teases questions in my mind. I’ve been sneaking out to watch her with my son, seeing the way that she coaxes him as he trains and studies. Jaal has improved so much since meeting her, and I think that she cares for him, too.

With the way her arms are crossed and her jaw is set, though, I doubt I am anywhere near my son on her list of desired companions. I seem to be nothing but an obstacle to her, and it pains me.

Iron’s words echo in my head. They have been for days. I’m starting to think he’s right about Jaal needing a mother, and Candice is the perfect candidate. She cares for him already and is very smart. I think she would raise my son to be the leader I know he can be.

It doesn’t hurt that she’s also so beautiful…

Candice clears her throat, pulling my mind back to the present moment. I shake the thoughts from my head and remind myself that she asked a question.

“Yes,” I finally answer softly, moving towards the door. I push it open, holding it and motioning for her to enter. “Go ahead.”

Her body is rigid, and I wonder if she is uncomfortable being in my bedroom. She was the one that chose to come here, and I try to fight the sting that I feel as she stiffens near me.

Her voice is steady as she whips around to look at me, the door shutting softly behind the two of us, and I’m a little relieved that she didn’t lose her nerve by coming in here. Her eyes flash as she starts in, and I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the tongue lashing I immediately receive was not it.

“I have been here for days, and I never see you with your son. Why is that?”

I shrug, moving past her to drop my belt onto the foot of the bed. The weapons are heavy even for me, and when I turn back around, her eyes are still on me. I sigh, running a hand down my face. “I am very busy.”

Candice shakes her head at me. “That is no excuse. You could make the time for him, but you choose not to. It’s unacceptable. You need to change your ways and spend time with Jaal, get to know him. You spend so much time pushing him away that it’s like you two are strangers.”

I know that she’s reprimanding me, and normally, I would never allow someone to talk to me like this. For some reason, I am lost in watching her as she lectures me. Her eyes are alight with a fire, and her hands gesture as she passionately speaks about my son.

I can’t help myself as I let her words wash over me. I’m too focused on her gorgeous cheekbones and strong jaw. She’s lean and fairly tall for a human, showing that she’s powerful among her race. I know she can hold her own against me as well.

My eyes rake over her face, drifting down to her body as she talks. I don’t know how to stop myself because I’ve never felt so attracted to someone else, especially a human. It’s distracting, but I try to focus on her words instead.

“You leave his parenting to his teachers, and that’s not what they are for. They should be in charge of his studies only. You, as his father, should be the one that eats dinner with him and tucks him into bed. You never talk to him or ask him how his day was, and it hurts him. He wants to be closer to you.”

As hard as I try, my mind keeps drifting off. My eyes are on her lips, sucked into the perfect pout, and I’m not sure when I even became fascinated with humans. I normally find them annoying, worthy of being servants until their purpose has expired, but with Candice, I am enthralled.

I want to know her more, understand everything about her. It’s all-consuming and becoming detrimental to my job as a leader. I’ve never had anything tempt me the way she does, and I wonder when Candice became my one exception to the human race, my one vice that I desperately want to give into.

“You seem to know nothing about parenting,” she scolds. “I’ve tried to tell you before that you can’t force your son to be who you want. You have to be there with him, showing him the way. Jaal is such a wonderful boy if you’d just take the time to actually be with him.”

She stamps her foot in frustration, glaring at me. “This is part of the problem!” Candice throws her hands out towards me. “Are you even listening or are you just going to stare at me until I’ve run out of words?”

I bite back the smile, refusing to admit that I’m too lost in her beauty to concentrate. A part of me knows that that answer won’t go over well. Instead, I move closer to her, and she doesn’t flinch. She holds her head high, her jaw set in determination.

The emotions inside of me are almost overwhelming, and I’m not sure where they are coming from. I’ve never been one to get swept up in my feelings, but right now, I’m overcome with them.

Leaning down, I lower my voice so that it comes out soft and calm. I keep a fair amount of distance between us, mostly for my sake or I’d lose control, and hold her gaze.

“I’ve listened to every word, Candice. I understand your frustration, but I’ve told you before, this is all I’ve ever known. I don’t know how to be the kind of father you are asking me to be.”

She bites down on her lower lip, and it makes something inside me stir. I clench my fists, trying to make my mind stay focused even though the only thing I want to think about is how soft her skin must be and how beautiful her mouth is.

“I don’t doubt that Jaal deserves better than what I’ve given him, but I can’t be more than I am. I can’t change overnight into the perfect parent.”

Candice sighs, dropping her arms into a less defensive stance. “I’m not saying you need to be perfect or that you have to be the best dad by tomorrow. I am asking you to try, for him. Jaal needs you in a way that you’ve never been there for him, and I know that you could give it to him. You just need to try.”

I gulp, fighting against the electric sting in the air. I want to close the space between us, but I force myself to stay halfway across the room. The words coming out of my mouth don’t feel like my own, and I know by the way that Candice’s eyes widen that she’s thinking the same.

“I am willing to try, but are you willing to teach me?”

17

CANDICE

I stumble over my words as I stare into Borak’s eyes. There’s a tenderness in his voice that I didn’t expect, and I can see emotion swirling in his eyes that I can’t describe but can feel deep in my gut.

He asked for my help, and that alone is enough to make me believe he deserves it. I want the best for Jaal, and my feelings for the poor kid are swaying me to think that maybe it wouldn’t hurt for me to stay here longer once my family knows I’m safe.

My eyes are locked on Jaal’s and against my wishes, words echo through my brain that I would have never anticipated. Maybe Jaal isn’t the only reason to stay around here.

I shake the thought from my brain, shocked that it crossed my mind, and I hope that it isn’t apparent on my face. The way that Borak is watching me, though, makes me feel like he knows exactly what’s going on in my mind, and I almost drop my eyes.

Heat flushes up my neck as my mouth and throat turn dry from the intensity of his gaze, and the blush deepens as I grow embarrassed. I know he must be able to see how I feel written all over my face now, especially since my skin must have turned a deep scarlet, but I’m not sure why I’m letting myself feel so bothered by this orc.

Still, I stare up into his red eyes that once intimidated me and find nothing terrifying except the idea of vulnerability. In fact, the more that I look at him, the more I realize that I’ve grown attracted to him. He’s very handsome by an orc’s standards, and while I don’t usually love the big brutish type, seeing his walls come crumbling down in front of me is pulling me in deeper.

I’m finding myself wanting to get to know him more, and the very thought sends thrills through me, both of excitement and terror. I’m surprised at the way my heart is doing flips as I watch his massive chest heave, wondering when my thoughts had shifted. The air has turned electric, and I can see his hands tremble as he clenches them repeatedly. When did he become this kind of orc?

Borak is surprising me every day with his actions, and I’m stunned still that he is asking for my help. His reactions have never been so understanding any time I’ve spoken to him before, and as thrilled as I am for Jaal, I find myself feeling a little suspicious.

When I followed him in here, I had braced myself for furious outbursts as he demanded that I respect him. I was prepared for him to yell at me that he was the great leader of this clan, and he would raise his son as he saw fit.

At the very least, I had expected his pride to get in the way. He had once before brushed me off for mentioning that he needed to be a better father, and a part of me had felt weary to share my thoughts as I was certain he wouldn’t take it well at all.

None of that had happened, though. Now, I’m standing in front of him with my eyes widened and my hands limp at my sides as neither of us break eye contact and I have no idea what to say.

I suck in a deep breath, reminding myself that this is for Jaal. “I can show you.” The corners of his mouth pull up ever so slightly, and I cut in before he gets ahead of herself. “You have to let me go to my settlement first, though.”

His expression falls, and I wait for him to agree to my terms because he has to know by now how much he needs me. He doesn’t say anything. I cross my arms, my eyes narrowing at him, and Borak rubs the back of his neck.

“I can’t let you go.” I open my mouth to protest, but he holds his hand up to stop me and I barely bite the words back. “I will have my men deliver them a message for you, though.”

“A message? Do you really think that will work?”

He shrugs. “They should know that if I killed you, an orc wouldn’t lie to cover it up. I’m sure that your parents are wise enough to know that receiving a letter is real and means that you are well cared for if I am willing to send my men out there for you.”

I shake my head, doubling down. I miss them terribly, and I cannot keep letting him bully me into staying in his home. “If I am not a prisoner, then you have to let me go to them. I need to see them, and I know they need to see me. I will come back after I make arrangements with my family.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking it over, which is a small victory for me. His eyes never leave my face, and finally he responds, his voice hard and firm. “I can’t let you go. What if you don’t come back?”

“Am I being held prisoner, then?”

Borak violently shakes his head. “No, of course not, but you said you would help me with Jaal and I need you.” A shiver echoes down my spine as he says it. “If you go home, they may convince you to stay or they may not let you leave again.”

“This is my family,” I assure him. “I am free to leave there just as I hope I am here.”

“Candice, please.” His eyes are begging, and I’m stunned by the pooling emotion there. “I will deliver them a note, but I can’t let you go there. There are too many risks in it.”

I slam my foot into the ground, ready to protest once again. I refuse to agree to this condition, but just as my mouth pops open, I hear the soft creak of the bedroom door being pushed open.

I twist, and my heart almost cracks in half when I see Jaal standing there, his eyes wide and hurt. I know that he heard us before he says anything, and the guilt that has been raging inside of me all day slams hard inside my chest.

Jaal’s eyes land on me and his voice is so small and broken, nothing like the kid that saved my life, when he asks, “You’re leaving me?”

“Jaal.” I take one step forward, my hand outstretched like I’m reaching for him before he turns and bolts out the door.

I can feel the tiny pieces that my heart is breaking into but I try to bury my own hurt and guilt as I chase after him, but it only takes a moment for me to realize that my feet slamming into the thick floors is the only sound echoing through the halls.

I skid to a stop, barking towards his quarters, “Borak!”

His massive head peeks around his door, looking partially surprised I called him at all, and my eyes dart towards Jaal’s bedroom. “Yes?”

“Are you coming?” I hiss, annoyed that I even have to ask.

“Uh–“

“You are,” I instruct him, not waiting for his pathetic excuses when his son just ran out of the room on the verge of tears. “This is what a parent does. They comfort their kids and help them understand. Not hurt them and leave them to cry themselves to sleep.”

I watch the emotions that dance over his face: surprise, confusion, for a split second a little hurt, and then finally determination. He nods, striding down the hallway to catch up with me.

I turn and rush towards Jaal, and I am relieved to hear Borak’s footsteps continue to fall behind me. Maybe he could learn to be a better dad.

18

BORAK

Jaal’s door slams shut behind him, and the heavy bolt slides home just as I reach it. I strike my fist against the frame half a dozen times. “Jaal! Open the door, or I’ll break it down!”

Candice is not far behind me.

She protests with a hand on my arm. “Stop it,” comes her muted response.

I look down at her in stunned silence. Her hand is gentle but insistent as she tries to guide me away from the door. Frisson flares over my skin. What this woman does to me, I think, yielding to her far too easily for a Chieftain.

She catches the knob and leans her forehead against the door. “Jaal, sweetie, open up.” When he doesn’t answer, she lowers her voice. “Will you give me a chance to explain?”

He doesn’t respond.

My upper lip curls. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

Candice glances back long enough to glare at me. “I wouldn’t open the door for you, either,” she says, her words unexpectedly barbed. She turns her attention back on Jaal’s door before I can respond. “Whatever you heard, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. Let me in.”

I scowl at the door, willing it to burst into flames.

“Just go away!” comes his response. “You’re already going to leave me!”

I issue a smug grunt.

But Candice doesn’t seem deterred. “Is that what you heard? That I’m going to leave you? Why would I do that?”

Her response is met with silence.

She waits when I would have raged. A calm expression smooths the worry from her features. “Jaal, everything’s going to be alright. I’d prefer to have this conversation sitting down, though. Won’t you come out?”

I don’t expect the argument will appeal to him but sure enough, there’s a shuffle behind the door, then the bolt slides open and he cracks it open. His yellow eyes are rimmed with red from crying, and his frown is deep. “Come in.”

All Candice’s attention is on him, and she beams, catching his face in her hands with adoration. “Thank you.”

Jaal looks at me, then his gaze slides to the floor, and he holds the door open wider. We enter together, with me taking up the rear. Somehow, she broke through his stubbornness, and he looks willing to listen, if not a little wounded.

Maybe Iron was right.

I keep that thought to myself as Candice sits on the bed beside him, while I remain standing. She rubs his back like I’ve never thought to do, and leans in. “What’s wrong, Jaal?”

He studies the lines of his palms. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you,” she says in turn. “You’re smart and funny and a really great kid. Why would you think I don’t like you.”

“Because you want to leave.”

“It’s not you, Jaal-” She stops herself short.

He sniffs back more tears. “It’s my father, isn’t it?”

I bare my teeth and hold back a laugh. “This is nonsense-”

Candice throws me a look that dares me to finish. I bite back my words and glance away, grumbling something incoherent even to me.

She gives him her full attention again. “Your father and I were talking about a lot of things. He doesn’t want me to go, either, but he’s going to let me send a message to my family, to let them know I’m alright.

“Your father has helped me heal, and has taken care of me since I’ve been here. This isn’t my home, but I’m willing to stay a while longer. And if I do eventually leave, you can always come visit me. You’re my friend too, Jaal.”

More tears come.

I hate the expression of weakness, but when he wraps his arms around her in a hug, I can’t help but feel a little jealous. Of them both.

I lean back on my heels, wanting to interrupt, yet unable to.

How did she manage to so quickly find herself in Jaal’s good graces when I’ve been trying for nine years? She melts his stubborn attitude with a soft tone and a mere touch. No amount of reasoning has done what she accomplished in such a short time.

“You don’t want to leave?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Even though my father’s being mean to you?”

“Who told you that?” she asks, and the heat rises on my face. Have I been mean to her? I’ve done my best to be as reasonable as I would with any one of my own. I run the events through my mind as she continues. “He’s a little rough around the edges, though, isn’t he?”

Jaal giggles.

I glance away.

“But he’s not been all that mean. I just miss my family like crazy, and I know they miss me.” She cocks her head to the side to get a better look at him. “It’s just a letter, Jaal. I won’t be going anywhere.”

He pouts but it’s clear his mood has greatly improved. “Promise?”

She scrubs his head. “I promise.”

A smile blooms on his face, and he glances at me. Something inside me breaks, and a flood of emotions I don’t recognize nearly come pouring out. I keep the stiff mask of a Chieftain firmly planted on my features, but give a stiff nod in consent.

He looks back at her with bright eyes.

Those feelings bloom inside me, and I feel strangely giddy. I can’t afford to be giddy, but for just a moment, I don’t care.

“Thank you for understanding,” she says, giving him another hug before standing. “Will I see you at dinner tonight?”

“Of course,” he says bashfully, his smile never quite disappearing. “I’m glad you’re staying, Candice.”

“Me too,” she says. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Jaal.”

He scuffs the ground. “Yeah, okay.”

I follow her out, rubbing the back of my neck. “You did great in there.”

She doesn’t answer, waiting until we’re down the hall before pivoting to face me, scrutinizing my features. I expected that easy smile, but instead, I get a quiet, troubled look.

I reach for her, then think better of it and drop my hand.

Candice merely braces herself and waits.

“Candice- I…” I look her over, not sure what to expect after our previous conversation. She’s stubborn, in her own way, and has a strength to her that I wouldn’t expect from a human. I’ve seen it since the moment I laid eyes on her, back when she tried to protect my son from me. “Would you mind terribly if we had a real talk?”

Her gaze lingers on Jaal’s door. “I think that would be alright. But- maybe this time, we’ll do it away from prying ears.”

A breathless laugh escapes me. “I’d prefer that.”

She watches me warily, as if she’s not quite sure what to make of me. “What you said earlier- you meant it?”

With nothing to say, I nod.

Candice drops her gaze again and smiles, though it’s short lived. “Thank you.”

I swallow, wanting to touch her like she touched me, afraid it might be misconstrued. Afraid I’ll be too rough with her. She’s so small compared to our kind, I don’t want to hurt her, just reassure her like how she did for my son. “It means a lot, what you did back there.”

“It was nothing,” she says, leading me out onto the veranda. “Really, you just have to know how to get on their level. It won’t do any good talking down to him.”

I chew on my bottom lip. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

19

CANDICE

I sit in a rough hewn chair on the veranda and cross one leg over the other.

He seems to consider something before joining me, unable to look in my direction. There’s something that’s troubling him about Jaal, I have to assume. Or me. The absence of his touch in the hall was loud, and he hasn’t tried since.

Do I want him to?

Heat crawls up the back of my neck, and I clear my throat. “I can’t stay forever, but- what I said to Jaal was true.”

His red eyes find me, flashing with surprise.

They’re so different than the rest of his kind, and even Jaal, whose friendly yellow gaze is always bright when I’m around. Borak is something else entirely, and I don’t want to admit that his presence unnerves me. I’ll never let it show.

“I don’t belong here,” I continue, looking out across his clan’s territory. “You know what it’s like, to be afraid you’ll never see your son again. I saw your look of relief, when you found him. I am lost to my family, like he was lost to you.” I purse my lips, waiting for his response.

Maybe he’ll get angry at me for being presumptuous. I don’t care. It’s the truth.

He studies me long and hard before answering. “You’re right.”

A weight comes off my chest. “You understand?”

“I do,” he concedes. “That doesn’t mean he’ll like the idea.”

“I won’t go until Jaal’s comfortable with it.” I trace the thick grain of the armrest. “I’d like to think I am his friend. He’s a good kid, if you give him a chance to be.”

Borak frowns, though it’s not aimed at me. “I thought I was giving him a chance, but he’s not the orc I expected he’d become. He’s my only hope at succession, Candice. I’m afraid he won’t rise to the task of being Chieftain.”

“He’s not just your successor, he’s your son.” All I’d have to do is reach out and catch his arm, give a reassuring squeeze. I stop myself, wondering if it’d go too far. I ball my hand into a fist instead. “He needs to know he’s loved, too.”

His mouth twists as if he’s not sure whether to grimace. I can’t tell if the notion is unappealing to him. Maybe orcs don’t express love the way we do. But Jaal needs it, if he’s going to keep succeeding.

“He craves your attention,” I say. “I can see it in his face when you enter the room.”

Borak’s expression drops to something neutral. “How is he doing in his studies?”

“Is that all you care about?” When my question goes unanswered, I shake my head. “He’s a bit of a show off, like his dad.”

That hard expression cracks for mild humor.

“He’s frustrated, sometimes. I think he misses having you around. If you only knew how hard he tries to get your attention, maybe you’d understand.” I take an uncertain breath. “But with the right encouragement, he’s developing. He’s bright, for an orc…”

Ire flashes in those red eyes of his, but he doesn’t reprimand me. Instead, he lets out a terminal sigh. “I knew he would be. No matter how many guards I post at his door, he always manages to get away and do gods know what when he wanders off.”

I nod, trying not to smile. “Sounds like him.

“Can I- um… can I give you a piece of advice?”

He grunts and issues a wave, but all his attention is on me.

I realize I like having Borak’s ear, especially when he’s reasonable. “Be kind to him. He’s only nine, but he won’t be for long. He’ll remember the kindness, and the cruelty, when he grows to be an adult, and you’ll live with those consequences when he comes of age. Don’t try to shape him into something he’s not.”

He watches my mouth as I speak, then simmers in the silence, looking troubled.

I do reach for him, and he watches as my fingers slip into his hand. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes him pause. “I think you can be a great father, but you have to have more patience with him.”

When I let go, his fingers twitch as if he doesn’t want me to. He leans back and studies me again. “You’re a good influence on him.”

“It’s nothing that wasn’t there before,” I say.

“How is he doing?”

I scrunch my nose at him. “In his studies?”

“No,” he admits. “-with… everything. Is he- happy?”

I watch Borak with curiosity. How unfamiliar is he with his son? Are all orc fathers like this? I doubt it. “He gets along great with his peers,” I say. “I think- the hardest part for him is that he’s living in your shadow. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, but you’ve been so hard on him for so long, he doesn’t think he can do anything right.

“I have a feeling he gave up, and that’s why he ran away.”

“And found you,” he concludes.

“I suppose so.”

He harrumphs as if defeated. “I did try to raise him on my own.”

“And he’s an amazing kid because of it, but if you want him to like being around you, you have to take it easy on him, too. I don’t think you want him to hate you.”

The sentiment makes Borak bare his tusks. “Never.”

I study him, this conflicted Chieftain, too proud to admit he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Too short tempered to have patience for his son. I thought being a parent came with some instinctive knowledge. Didn’t he have caring—if not brutish—parents? Doesn’t he know what it’s like to be a child loved by their father?

When I look out on his clan, there is no shortage of love between his people. The few children are cherished for their rarity, maybe swatted when they’re bad but they come back to the open arms of their parents.

“I have a question for you,” I say, preparing to ask something that’s been weighing on me for some time now.

He turns his full attention on me again.

I’m hard pressed not to point to his clan as an example, keeping my hands in my lap. “You seem like you’re the only one in the Twilight Reapers that doesn’t know how to parent. Why is that?”

I brace myself for a harsh response, but all I see is guilt spreading across his face. He glances out to where a small orc child falls, and his devoted father runs to sweep him up in his arms. The child doesn’t cry for long before he’s laughing as his father blows raspberries at him. The scene makes Borak wince.

“I didn’t have a role model,” he says simply, tearing his gaze from the parent and child. “My people can live in peace because of what I’ve accomplished, but it wasn’t like this when I was young. For most orcs, peace is an anomaly, and my father’s clan was no exception.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” His expression hardens. “It’s what made me strong. I can bear the responsibility of the clan because of what happened to me, and I wanted to pass that onto Jaal. But you’re right- about everything.”

I stop myself from reassuring him, waiting.

It’s good to see him take responsibility. He continues, though it’s clear the words are difficult to form. “I don’t want Jaal to kill his father like I killed mine.”

20

BORAK

The revelation makes her soft expression drop.

Is she afraid? Can she see the blood on my hands from so long ago?

But she masters herself with surprising speed. “How old were you?”

Out of all the questions she could ask, she lands on this one. How old was I? I can’t recall the events in anything but flashes. I must have been young, maybe Jaal’s age, maybe a bit older. I remember that my skin was dark with bruises. I remember the taste of blood. “I’m not sure,” I finally say, thinking hard on it. “I might have seen thirteen summers.”

Her look is one of concern. For herself, I think, and for good reason. If she only knew what these hands had done, she might not have held them so willingly.

“I wouldn’t have wished my father on anyone,” I continue, hoping what I’m going to tell her won’t scare her off completely, though she’s fended off my wrath before. What harm could there be in this admission? “He was- a nightmare. The kind of orc that gives us our bloodthirsty reputation, and not even his own child was safe.”

I ignore Candice’s scrutiny.

“But he was Chieftain. Nobody was going to stand against him. No one could.” When I stop speaking, the silence threatens to choke me. “When my mother tried to, he killed her.”

She gasps.

I don’t want her pity. “It is in the past.”

“You still carry it with you.” She leans forward, her expression troubled. “What did you do?”

My smile is humorless. “You already know what happened.”

“I want to hear it from you.” She bites her lip, scouring me with her gaze. “I think I deserve that much.”

I consider her. “You’re sure?”

“Entirely,” she says, hanging off the edge of her seat with anticipation.

I clear my throat, then grumble, “fine.

“She was protecting me from another beating. He’d always come back from a hunt looking to skin someone’s hide, and more often than not, it was mine. Sometimes, he’d get drunk and beat her, too, but when she was with child, he tended to take it easy on her. That night, he was especially irked by his hunting party, and he dragged me out of my hiding spot.

“When she stepped between us, he put his hands around her neck and didn’t let go until bloody foam was coming out of her mouth, and her eyes were sightless and bulging.” I glance at Candice’s hands, which are beginning to shake. “She didn’t wake up.

“But I couldn’t remember it until after they buried her, because he had beat me near to death that night. Both my eyes were swollen shut, and all I could cry was pus.”

Candice’s eyes are glittering.

What deep empathy humans have, to care so much about a child that doesn’t exist, any longer. “The boy I’d been died that night, and only a few years later, I was ready to face him. I was thirteen, practicing wielding a blade every night until I’d honed my reflexes.

“My father was a big creature, but he was slow.

“I’d been knocked around by him long enough that I knew how he fought. Sloppy, with wide and lazy swings. He won by sheer force, so I’d have to win with speed.

“My first instinct was to kill him in his sleep.

“It’s a dishonorable way but-”

“He killed your mother,” she interrupts. “That bastard had no honor.”

Her words make me pause. I find her resolve and my heart softens to her. “I’m glad you think so.”

Candice’s lips firm as she nods, waiting for me to continue.

I do. How can I deny her silent insistence? “I nearly slit his throat one night, when he was too drunk to rise. Instead, I woke him the next morning with a bucket of ice cold water from the stream. I wanted him mad, so I could kill the monster that had destroyed my life.

“The headache from the ale didn’t serve him well.

“At least I’d picked my moment.

“It’s traditional to challenge the Chieftain for his position. I didn’t. His clan wasn’t sure whether to stop me or not, but he bellowed at them not to get involved. What kind of Chieftain would he be, if he couldn’t take on a whelp like me?

“He didn’t know I’d been practicing.

“I led him to where I’d hidden a blade and ran it straight through his black heart. The surprise and disbelief that dawned on his face will stay with me for the rest of my life. I didn’t avenge my mother. She didn’t want this for us, but I’d ended the reign of a tyrant that day.

“My father’s strength waned as his life spilled out of him, so when he finally grabbed hold of me, I shook him off easily and let him suffocate on the blood filling his lungs.

“I remember the silence perfectly, glad to be the one to break it.

“‘You have no Chief, anymore,’ I’d told them. And, like magic, they dispersed. All those that followed him abandoned his corpse in the village center without so much as a word. In the end, he had no true allies, not even his own son.”

Her eyes are wide when I finish.

Our ways are not her ways, and I worry that she’ll grow to fear me. I don’t like this conflict, waiting for her to speak, refusing to assure her I am not like my father. I am like him. I struggle with it every day, but I wouldn’t dream of beating Jaal the way I had been beaten. It’s a monster I have to constantly keep in check, lest it consumes reason.

“You’re not like him at all,” she says, shaking her head with conviction like she’d read my mind and found the contents distasteful. “You’re short tempered, sure, but he was a beast. You’ve been reasonable with me, and that’s more than I can say for most of the orcs I’ve met.”

“You don’t have to be kind-”

“I’m not being kind,” she interrupts with a smirk. “You’re a better man for not following in your father’s footsteps. Jaal is troubled, but he loves you. From your story, you only tolerated your father until he gave you reason to end his life.”

A humorless laugh escapes me in my grief. Leave it to this woman to surprise me. “You think I was justified?”

“I think you had no other recourse.”

My heart swells with relief and- something else. When I look into Candice’s eyes, I don’t see the judgment I expected. She’s full of understanding and patience, something that’s been sorely absent under my roof. It has livened up my son, who is finally participating in clan life again, and me, if I’m being honest with myself.

When she walks into the room, she soothes my wrath.

I come alive beneath her touch.

I want to feel that again, to memorize her flesh against mine, and that’s when I realize I like her. More than I can say. Never have I felt this way about anyone, not even a passing notion. But her- she’s rent my life in two.

Before her, and after.

I reach for her hand, and she doesn’t pull away. When our fingers make contact, hers lace through mine. My voice is hoarse when I dare to speak. “I don’t want you to leave, just yet.”

She squeezes in return, her thumb tracing a circle into the sensitive skin of my palm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

21

CANDICE

I press my hand over the old paper that Borak has provided for me, having no idea where he sourced it from. It’s worn and turned a dark yellow but as long as I get to send word to my family on it that is all that matters. They will finally get to learn that I am well and in no danger.

Just putting the words onto paper removes a burden from me I knew I was carrying without knowing its full weight. My days here have been strangely pleasant but knowing how frightened my family would be for my safety has gnawed at me from the beginning.

We are a close and loving family, and their hearts will be breaking thinking they may have lost me. The thought of it has been unbearable, which is why I have tried not to focus on it for too long, instead giving my attentions to the young boy that is stealing my heart.

In the letter I explain how I became misplaced following my crossing over the border. I tell them how I got into trouble, though do not mention the bear as I don’t want to cause any further worry, and that a young orc child brought me to his clan’s stronghold to look after me.

Most importantly, I tell them I am safe and well and even enjoying my time here. I let them know about Jaal and how I am staying here to help Borak and the clan with him, as he has been experiencing some difficulties.

Then I beg them not to worry, and tell them I love and miss every single one of them. When I’m in done, I press the paper to my heart and leave my room to take it to Borak who will see it is delivered.

It has been four days since the letter, and I haven’t received word from them as yet. I only hope they believe everything that I said in it. But I try not to worry—the handwriting was mine, and this they will know straight away. At least that will prove I am alive, if nothing else.

Having the company of Borak and Jaal over the last few days has eased some of my anguish. I’ve been surprised at how many times Borak has appeared—whether at the training sessions when I am watching Jaal or when we are spending free time together as I teach him about different areas of science.

He watches me with keen eyes, and there are times when I feel myself heat from his deep and continued gaze. I have seen a very different side to this ferocious orc in such a short space of time. Looks can be deceiving, and so can reputations.

Since he has told me of his past, and the brutal upbringing he received, I have softened towards him. Despite his huge size and reputation, there is is a vulnerability to him that claws at my heart. He could so easily have become the brute that his father was.

Instead, he is a proud and worthy leader, and even though I have not always agreed with the way he parents Jaal, I now understand why this is so. He worries about whether he is a good father, and this is a sure sign that he is.

As the days have passed, I am shocked to discover the feelings that are now building towards him. I find myself studying his huge physique, wondering what that moss-green skin would feel like under my fingers. How hard those muscles that cover his chest would be and how those tusks would feel against my skin.

He is kind and sweet, even if he does not look it. His red eyes are piercing and yet contain that vulnerability he has since revealed to me. Borak is changing before my very eyes and the way that I see him is changing inside me.

There are times when I joke with him and I see the flicker in his eyes that enjoys the playfulness. No doubt there are very few times when he has been able to indulge himself in such ways, and his reticence shows this. But I see the look in his eyes and the twitches at the corner of his mouth.

Tonight I have been asked to eat with him and Jaal at his private quarters and a shiver of excitement runs through me. I take to my room to wash and freshen up. I have been provided with some fresh clothes which I look through, picking out a white tunic that falls just above my knee. Unlike a lot of the clothes I have been given, this has a flattering shape that draws in at my waist.

I slick my short hair back and add some of the moisturizing wax balm to my lips, liking the way that it accentuates them and makes them glisten. Then I leave my room and make my way to Borak’s quarters.

When I get there, there are two guards outside as usual. Nothing is ever left to chance in this stronghold. They nod to greet me and knock at the door to let them know I am here.

The door snaps open and an excited Jaal is behind it.

“Candice!”

“Long time no see,” I say jokingly, having only been apart from him for an hour or two.

“I still missed you,” he says.

“Me too,” I reply, smiling at him. Though Borak sees his son becoming more and more the warrior and future chief, I see him becoming more and more a child. His playfulness and innocence are now on display, and he is open and willing to show that he has a need for attention and affection.

Borak appears behind him, looking fresh, his skin glistening from cleansing oils. He smells citrusy and masculine and I try to stifle my appreciation as his presence takes me over.

“Please come in, Candice,” he says, his hands resting gently on his son’s shoulders. It’s a sight that sends so many emotions coursing through me and for a moment it almost takes my breath away.

“Thanks,” I say, stepping across their threshold and into their home. Borak stands aside and I can feel his eyes on me as I walk past him.

“Dinner is already waiting,” he says.

“It smells delicious.” The scent of fresh herbs and meat wafts around me and suddenly I am ravenous.

“You can sit here,” says Jaal, pulling out a chair for me.

“Why, thank you,” I say, settling into the chair that could fit two of me in it.

“You look nice tonight, Candice. Doesn’t she, Father?”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach as I feel Borak’s eyes on me, but he doesn’t seem to be suffering with the same unease that I am.

“Yes,” he says, his eyes raking over me as if drinking me in. “She does.”

His voice is a low, deep rumble and my skin flushes as I feel its depth and hear the words.

“Thank you,” I manage, eventually.

“So, let us eat,” Borak says, forking a hunk of meat into his mouth and chewing as his eyes continue to devour me.

Jaal eats hungrily beside me and talks to us of his training session today.

“You are doing well, Son. It pleases me greatly,” Borak remarks, causing a wide toothy smile to erupt on Jaal’s face.

“And Candice has been teaching me about some of the plants that she uses for her medicine supplies,” Jaal continues.

“That is good news, thank you, Candice,” he says, raising his tankard to me and drinking, his eyes never leaving mine.

My skin heats and my heart warms. Sitting around the table with these two orcs really is something I could get used to. They are both in different ways becoming dear to me. I raise my goblet to Borak.

“It’s a pleasure,” I say, meeting his gaze.

It truly is.

22

BORAK

I have never known my son to be so animated and talkative. In her presence he seems to transform—into a child that is full of excitement and wonder. A child that I have missed all along. Was this child always there, just waiting to be discovered?

Since the moment she arrived in our lives, things have changed and now I see how much the love and attention of one person can impact a child. Seeing them together is a joy and one that I look forward to every morning.

Perhaps she is right and the attention that he is getting from her and now from me is feeding him somehow. Beause now he seems to be growing into a young orc that will make a great leader one day, and yet it is more than that. Jaal has come alive.

Even though his lack of drive and ferocity has been my main concern over the recent months, I find am surprised to find more hope and relief in the way that Jaal now acts with me. He is no longer sullen and disobedient, but eager to share his news with me when we eat dinner together each evening.

He likes to show off his weapons training and tell me about what he has learnt that day. Most of all he likes to talk of Candice, and everything that they have shared together.

It is so new to me, spending so much time with him, and I realize how much he has missed out on over the years. I cannot help that I am a chieftain, and have many duties and burdens, but I vow to make more time for him from hereon in.

His enthusiasm is infectious lately, and this is something that pleases me. There is life and vitality in him. It has made him want to learn, fight and play in a way that he never has before.

Such changes in such a small space of time, and all because of a human woman.

There is such a natural way that she has with him, and he has responded to this from the start. It pleases me to see them laughing together. She has certainly brought some much-needed humor to the stronghold and this household. She is a breath of fresh air.

I sip at my ale and think of the evening we have just spent together—talking, sharing, learning and laughing. It almost seems like another life somehow. A life that could be. A life beyond battle and war and mere survival.

Sitting here I can’t help but think of how she looked tonight. There is no denying she is a beauty and though I have had little interest in human women, especially since my last encounter with Jaal’s mother, there is something about this one that will not leave me.

I tower over her by at least two feet, and her body is so different to mine. Everything, from the size and shape and skin tone, all of it making me ache with curiosity and longing.

As she sat at my table all I could think about was reaching out to her, caressing her beautiful face or even sliding my fingers up her lean, brown legs. I wanted to let her know that Jaal is not the only one who appreciates her. Though what I feel is more than appreciation—it is desire.

The desire to feel those full lips against my own, her body close to mine. The desire to know what is underneath that tunic that clings to her lithe body. The desire to run my tongue up those slender thighs, right to the top where I would hope to find her wet and wanting.

There are many things I have come to appreciate and desire when it comes to Candice Lark and yet when I think of how I should go about telling her or showing her, I seem to falter.

As a chieftain I am well aware of the power that I wield and that many other orcs would have just taken what they wanted. But that is not our way. Not my way, and certainly not a liberty that would be taken with Candice, who has become so special to me.

She is so capable in her interactions and with her words. She knows people and orcs. There is a way she has that tells them she understands them. Next her to her I am nothing but a fool when it comes to these matters—how can I tell her how I feel?

I should have said something tonight, but instead I let her leave without uttering a word. Raging at myself I throw the rest of the ale down my throat and decide to take to my chamber. By some act of the gods maybe I will know what to do when the morning comes, and if not, then at least I will not have to sit around torturing myself all night.

When I open my chamber door I see a small figure on the bed. Jaal is tired and barely keeping his eyes open, but when he sees me they widen a little. Leaning against the doorframe I take in the scene, a rush of warmth enveloping my chest.

“Forgotten where your room is?” I say, before walking to the bed and sitting next to him as he lies there.

“I’ve been thinking, Father.”

“Well, there is plenty of time for thinking tomorrow.”

I see the look of disappointment on his face as if he is about to retreat as usual, and then I remember what Candice has said to me. I need to pay him more attention, and if he is here on my bed with thoughts in his head then I must listen.

“Tell me, what bothers you?”

“Nothing is bothering me, Father. It’s just that well… I like Candice.”

“I know,” I say, smiling. “It is quite clear how well you have taken to her.”

“And I think you do, too,” he says, looking up at me the picture of innocence. “Is she going to be my mother?”

It hits me like a battering ram. I was not expecting him to be so candid with me. Or so observant! My stomach twists and my mouth becomes dry. He waits, looking at me with wide eyes, for me to give him an answer.

Eventually I muster up an answer for him, having not felt as challenged as this even in battle. “I must confess, you are right. I do like Candice as well. She has become rather dear to me.”

The look on his face makes my battle-scarred heart come back to life. There is such hope in his eyes, and I can hardly stand to see him disappointed.

“I knew I was right,” he says, his newfound self-assurance raising its head again.

“But I cannot promise that she will be your mother, Jaal. What I do know though is that you are very special to her. As she has become to both of us.”

My son pulls himself up and looks me deep in the eyes. It’s a look that tears down every defense and fear that I have erected to keep me safe from being hurt by another.

“Then please at least tell her, Father. Tell her you feel the same as I do.” His face is alive with hope and excitement. He throws his arms around me and then, saying nothing else, he leaves.

It takes me little time to think about it. I am a warrior—one of the best. Yet my son has shown more bravery by telling me this tonight. I cannot fall victim to my own fears and awkwardness. My mind is made up—I will go to her tonight and confess.

23

CANDICE

I rake the brush through my short hair in even sweeps, considering.

My hand stalls when I look in the rough mirror, finding a strange gleam in my eyes that wasn’t there before. Things have become routine, here, so much that I don’t know what I’d do without it. I enjoy Jaal’s laughter, and Borak’s warm company. I’d love to see my family again but I’d be heartbroken if it meant an end to this.

I stare at my own reflection.

“What are you doing, Candice?” I ask myself, setting the brush down. I’d dressed up for him, hadn’t I? I liked how he looked me over favorably at dinner, and I want more of it. My pupils dilate when I come to the terrible realization. I really like him, don’t I?

He’s not even my type.

I rub my arm, where the little hairs have risen, trying to banish the notion. I can’t tell if I’m excited or terrified, but I’d never run from my feelings. He’s so sure of himself, I have to wonder if he feels the same, or if he’s merely tolerating me to mollify his son. If he did feel a way about me, Borak would have done something about it by now, wouldn’t he?

Orcs are known for their forthright demeanors.

He’s too stubborn not to be.

I clutch my shoulders and glance at the door. He’s somewhere beyond it, carrying on with his evening. I have to tell him, even if he doesn’t feel the same. At least I can get it off my chest and be done with it.

I stand as if to leave, then pace instead, delaying the inevitable.

Maybe he does like me. I didn’t think I was his type but- when he reaches for me sometimes, it makes me wonder. And he’s been so gentle.

We’re friends, I think. Just friends.

But are we?

My heart gives an extra thump when I pace to the door and put my hand on the knob. I’m ready for this. I have to be. I can’t afford to be afraid, not of him.

It swings open with ease, and I’m face to face with Borak, his hand up in a fist as if he was about to knock. He drops it. “I- hope I’m not disturbing you.”

I don’t answer right away, certain of it now.

“No,” I find myself saying, pleasantly surprised. “Not at all.”

We watch one another in silence, his gaze scouring my form, me, taking all of him in. He’s bigger than my memory serves, a creature one could get lost in. He still smells faintly of citrus from dinner, the scent clinging to his rich skin.

And, though his expression is an almost permanent scowl, there’s softness around his simmering eyes. “Candice…”

My fingers wrap around his thick wrist as I draw him inside. He swallows hard but allows me to, shutting the door behind himself, all his attention on me.

I don’t want it anywhere else.

I open his hand and trace lines down his fingers, and over his palm. When I draw up his arm, I place his hand on my waist, where his fingers fit in a perfect grip. My skin alights where he touches, and when I lever up to kiss him, he reciprocates with the utmost care.

I’m on my tip toes when he drags me against him.

There’s nothing to do except yield, but I trust him. His tongue is soft even as it’s rough, circling mine in a dance he seems unfamiliar with. I guide him to it, throwing my arms around his powerful neck for better leverage.

We break only to make eye contact, then our lips crush together once more.

He breathes in my exhale, rumpling my dress as his grip tightens. My center warms at all the fussing, craving something I’m not sure I can handle. I tear free of his lips and drop my head to his strong shoulder.

Borak cups my cheek. “What’s wrong, Candice?”

I shake my head, trembling when his mouth descends on my neck. “I don’t know- if I can do this.” His lips trace a line of fire over my collarbone, making my breath unsteady. “I’m frightened…”

“Of me?” he murmurs against my flesh.

I can only nod, my body responding favorably to his exploration.

“Don’t be,” he says, his tusks raking gently over the hollow of my neck, then he finds my gaze again. “I can be very-” He captures my chin between finger and thumb before brushing our lips together. “-very gentle.”

My knees threaten to give out.

That familiar softness in his expression returns, and he straightens. I cling to him as he lifts me into his arms, his eyes never leaving mine. The corners of his mouth turn up, and the rumble of his words resonate through me. “But I’d much rather you in my bed. I don’t think we’d both fit in this one.”

I laugh softly into his shirt, relieved, embarrassed.

His heavy musk overwhelms me, making my head spin. I don’t recall the trek to his room, only being released into thick sheets and furs that smell of him. The light is dim here, as if he’d planned this all along.

Borak is over me, his eyes flashing with pleasure. “You’re beautiful.”

For the first time, I’m truly at his whim.

My body burns to unite with him as I battle with my wits. I can’t just give in like this, can I? Will I forgive myself, if I get involved and find him to be too much? Will he forgive me? He seems to see my struggle and leans in, pressing our foreheads together. I taste his warm breath as he murmurs, “it’s alright.”

He is all muscle, and I’m powerless to stop him if he insists.

Strong nails rake up my leg, hiking up the dress as goosebumps form in his wake. I capture his face, studying his expression with heavy scrutiny. “You promise?”

A smile spreads. “On my life.”

My wound body relaxes slightly as he presses his lips to mine again. I don’t know what to expect from Borak, but he’s given me his word. He wants me, I can feel it in his coiled form, so heavy it makes the very air bend to him. And I am in his sights. I can’t forget that he is an orc, or that his kind is known to claim human women like we’re prizes.

But he doesn’t conduct himself in that way.

He’s been patient, cautious, held back when he could have demanded. Hesitated when he might have ordered. He is a Chieftain, after all, and he’s used to getting his way. But I initiated this first contact. I kissed him, because I’ve grown to like his company, more than I can say.

Maybe this simple act will bind us, somehow.

His hands slip up my dress, feeling up my form as if memorizing my curves. I drag it open to reveal myself to him, and his eyes fall on the slight swell of my breasts. He stares as if I’ve revealed to him all the secrets of the universe, and it makes me laugh.

Uncertainty mars his expression.

I stroke his cheek gently, wondering what is passing through his mind right now. “I trust you, Borak,” I whisper, sliding my hand down his shirt to test his burning muscles. “I do.”

“When I came to your door,” he says, a stray hand cupping a breast, his thumb teasing the nipple into a pearl. “I didn’t expect… this.”

I kiss his brow, hoping to relieve the worry. “It’s too late now,” I say in turn, biting back a smile. “I’m going to be terribly disappointed if you don’t finish what you started.”

His red eyes flash up at me with a challenge. “I didn’t start this.

“But I can finish it.”

24

BORAK

Of all the things I’ll do to her, I have to do them with care.

It’s so clear how delicate she is, now that she’s beneath me, a sweet tremor coursing through her when I take one of her breasts into my mouth. She is warm and soft and all the things I’ve craved. Still, I must take them gently.

When my mouth traces a line to her tender navel, she gasps, gripping my shoulders as if her caution had returned. I hesitate, waiting for a protest. When she gives none, I dip low, slipping my tongue up her wet slit, then in.

Her thighs clench around me, her face frozen in anticipation.

I delve deeper, searching out her nub that’s already warming to my contact. I hike her legs up over my shoulders and punish her softly, until a batting cry escapes her. I smile at her expense and pull on her clit that throbs against my tongue.

My hands chase up her back and catch her shoulders so I can better drag her to my mouth, remembering always: be gentle. She bucks against me, riding my face with a moan I want to suck down.

My cock is raging to be inside her, already.

I master myself. This isn’t about me, I think, lashing her until slick fluid seeps out from between her lips. She stiffens beneath me, her body rigid as her sweat beads on her lovely forehead, and she comes for me.

I feel it in the way her body rolls against me, grinding hard as if she’s impatient for more. I relinquish with a kiss, caressing her thighs in turn. When I look upon her, her eyes are averted to the ceiling.

She drops a hand between her legs but I stop her, kissing each fingertip. “Let me,” I murmur, grazing my tusks against her wrist, then levering up to kiss her inner elbow. Her eyes fall on me again.

Candice is mute, and her lips are swollen with desire.

I reclaim them with ease as she tugs on my shirt, trying to tear it off me. I chuckle and assist her with the task, tossing it aside so she can see every hard edge of my chest. She marvels at me and tests the planes of my abs, her touch trailing down.

My cock leaps in anticipation.

She’s hesitant. She sees the bulge in my pants.

I don’t blame her. It’s almost as long as her forearm and just as thick. It will be an impressive feat to fit all of me inside her. But that is not the point, I remind myself, softening my grip on her as I curl over her shapely form.

She lets me, falling back into the furs with an expectant look.

I let her taste herself on my lips as I kiss her, growling with the contact. Her hand slips below the line of my belt and catches my cock. A little gasp escapes her, even as pleasure shoots up my spine.

Don’t be afraid, I beg her silently, stroking her short hair back. When I find my voice, it’s harder than I mean it to be. “Turn over.”

Her dark eyes flash with surprise.

But she does so without protest, exposing her plump ass and the sensuous curve of her back. I capture the flesh of her rump and massage, chasing the line up her spine with my lips. She exhales into my pillow in quiet gratitude.

Her flesh, and the muscles beneath, are tender as I knead them into butter.

I make silent promises on her skin with each kiss, I’ll be gentle, I’ll be gentle, and her reciprocation is the heat that spreads beneath my hands. My only threat is a soft nip at the base of her neck. Be mine, Candice, comes the thought, uninvited.

I growl in my frustration. Would she let me keep her?

She tenses beneath me, and I think she’s going to warn me away. But her head turns instead, and she meets my eye. “You never told me you’re good with your hands, Borak.”

“It’s not something I tend to announce,” I say in turn, pressing my hard front against her back. I catch her soaked cunt from around the front and spur her warmth. “Are you ready?”

Her body jerks when I find her clit again.

But she nods.

The cock springs angrily free from its holding, the head burning with impatience.

I bide my time, stroking us both once, twice, then I release her to nudge just the tip into her. I nearly lose myself when her warmth draws over me, but I remember just in time. Be gentle.

Candice sucks in a breath and holds it.

I keep my eyes screwed shut, withdrawing from that glorious warmth so I don’t overwhelm her before nudging in again. When I go a little further, her core stiffens around me. She’s so tight, I nearly collapse into her.

But still, there’s no protest.

I bite my tongue to focus. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“I will,” she breathes, huffing when I ease in a little further. A third of me has disappeared inside of her, and she’s not screaming in pain yet. When I withdraw again, my cock is slick with her fluids.

I take it as a good sign and nudge in a little deeper.

We groan together.

I link an arm around her and hoist her onto my lap, never letting my cock drop out of her. She grips tight to my arm but lets herself sink to the hilt, then glances up at me with a half-lidded expression.

I smile down at her, distracted by her soft ass as it bounces against my crotch.

She’s taking the lead, arching hard as she takes me all the way in, linking her arms around my neck. She sighs in my ear as we join, my hands on her hips. I lever her down and fill her up until the hollow of her stomach bulges against my weight.

I ease back, letting her take the lead.

Our hot flesh collides, and the sweet sounds of her appreciation fills my room. I take the skin of her neck between my teeth as she rides me, her body stretching hard to accommodate my size. She drives herself down on my cock, until I meet her end. Fireworks bloom in my vision, and I can’t take anymore.

I roll us both on our side and link my legs around her, pinning her taut against me as my body insists on finishing. Gently, the warning comes, but her feverish kisses tell me she wants this as much as I do.

My pace picks up, and that pressure at the base of my spine heightens. I find her mouth with mine as I come, my body holding her in a vise as my seed spills into her. I push to her end again arching hard until I am empty, and we are both breathless.

I stay inside her for a time, kissing her shoulder and neck. She breathes with me as if our bodies are one. I like the thought of that, sharing a life with this woman.

She kisses the muscle of my arm, wriggling as if to get more comfortable against me. “Oh, no,” she finally whispers. “What are we going to tell Jaal?”

My laugh is a rumble. “I’m pretty sure he already knows.”

25

CANDICE

I’ve grown so accustomed to Jaal’s schedule that my eyes snap open early every morning on instinct. The sun filtering in through the window is soft as it rises, and as I shift away from it, a soreness echoes up my spine from my pelvis.

I blink a few times as I twist, and my eyes land on Borak. My mind is jolted to the night before, the memories filtering in as my eyes run the length of his face.

Heat explodes in my stomach, and I can’t believe how happy I am to wake up with his arm still circling around my waist. He shifts as I push up on my elbow, rolling me over so that my back is pressed this chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around me. I giggle, and I can feel his smile brush against my skin.

“Good morning,” he whispers into my ear, and I wiggle away from him as it tickles. “How do you feel?”

I know he’s asking about the lingering pain in my hips and between my legs, but I don’t focus on it. He was so gentle with me that I’m surprised there’s anything at all. His size could have destroyed me, but instead, he sent waves of pleasure rocketing through me so many times I lost count.

I tip my head back so that my cheek is pressed to his and nip at his bottom lip. Borak growls softly, and I chuckle, replying playfully, “Hungry.”

His tongue flicks against the shell of my ear. “I have something for you to eat.” His hand trails down my body as he whispers, “I’m famished myself.”

His voice is husky with both desire and sleep, and as tempting as it is, I catch his wrist. My body is already curving against him, ready to go again, but I can’t in good conscience leave Jaal to eat breakfast alone.

“Later,” I promise, and his eyebrows shoot up. “For now, we need to go meet Jaal for breakfast.”

Borak grumbles lightly but unlatches from my waist, and I scramble from the bed before I can change my mind.

We arrive just as Jaal takes his seat, and the sight of us two together seems to make him light up. His eyes are twinkling as I take my seat beside Borak, and his gaze lingers on the way his father’s hand slides down my arm.

Borak is a much more physical person than I had anticipated, not that I’m complaining. He wants to hold my hand as we eat breakfast, keep his arm wrapped around my shoulders as we escort Jaal to his tutor, and hold me snugly against his body as we walk around the camp.

He doesn’t leave my side all day, to my surprise. He usually has so many meetings I only see him briefly throughout the day besides meal times. When he pulls me into the veranda, perching me on top of his lap, I lean back to ask him the question that’s been nagging at me.

“Do you not have anything to do today?”

His face screws up in a scowl, and I know that it sounds like I’m annoyed by his clinginess but I’m not. I’m actually flattered and thrilled he wants me for more than sex, and parading me in front of the clan like this is rather satisfying.

“You taught me that there is more to life than meetings. I’m trying to make more time for you and Jaal.” He tugs me closer for a soft kiss before tucking me against his chest.

I giggle, tilting my head back to look at him. “I’m glad.” I run my fingers across his massive chest, savoring the way the muscles flex underneath my hand, and sigh. “I want to send another letter to my family.”

“Oh?”

I nod. “I want to tell them our good news.”

His mouth pops open in surprise, and his eyes sparkle in delight. I hadn’t considered if he was worried about me regretting our wonderful night, but my words seem to send him over the moon.

Lifting me up into his arms, he leaps off the veranda and jogs in the direction of his office. I laugh, patting his chest and telling him to slow down, but he ignores me.

Inside the small room, he sits me in his chair and pushes a piece of paper in front of me. I raise my eyebrows at him as Borak collapses into the chair across the desk from me.

“Have you ever sat on that side before?”

He shakes his head. “No, but you look good on that side,” he answers, wiggling his eyebrows. “I bet you’d look even better on top of it.”

I blush a furiously deep red, and I am saved from responding as Jaal comes in from his lessons. It’s nearly time for lunch, and I tell them to give me just a moment to write the letter and I’ll be ready to go.

As the tip of my pen presses to the paper, though, Iron runs into the room, his eyes locked on Borak. “Sir,” he’s out of breath and seems to notice me for the first time. “I must speak with you.”

Bork waves his hand. “Go ahead. I have nothing to hide from these two.”

Jaal’s face lights up at the words, and the three of us stare at Iron with intrigue, though he still seems uncertain. The words rush out of him as we hear the shouts of men outside the office.

“There are enemies on our border,” he confesses, the clambering of orcs rushing about growing louder. “They’re marching towards the camp and are estimated to arrive in three hours.”

Borak leaps from his chair, going to the closet along the wall. Without dismissing Iron, he shouts to Jaal and me, “You both need to go to your rooms. Lock yourselves in there, and don’t come out.”

He twists to look at Iron, effectively dismissing Jaal and me, and instructs, “If something happens, you prioritize them. Take them, and ensure them a safe escape.”

Iron nods, but I refuse to let him stow us away while he risks his life. I slam my palm against the desk, rising to my feet. “No!”

Iron looks at me, surprised, but my eyes stay on Borak, who doesn’t seem the least bit shocked at my outburst. I come around the desk, running up to him and reaching to cup his face. “I’m staying with you.”

His hand presses against mine as he leans into my touch. “You can’t,” he murmurs.

I push up on my toes. “Nonsense.” I press a fierce kiss to his lips, and his body nearly crumbles against mine. “I love you too much to let you go alone.”

“I’m not running away from the enemy, either,” Jaal announces. “I will stay with my father and defend our clan as I have trained to.”

Pride shines in Borak’s eyes as he looks to his son, and his gaze slides back to me. I’m holding my breath, hoping he doesn’t force me out, when he finally lets out a breath. “Fine. You can both stay, but you stay right next to me.” He pulls me tighter against his body. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

In the three hours it takes for the enemy to approach, Borak manages to hunt down gear to fit me. He and Jaal are fitted in their special made armor, which he promises to get me after all of this.

I stand next to him before the gates of his camp, massive walls surrounding his territory to protect his people. We can all hear the orcs on the other side shouting, and as a silence falls over both crowds on either side, he motions for the gates to open.

I suck in a breath, squeezing his hand, and he squeezes it back before taking a step forward, my fingers slipping out of his grasp as he moves out of his camp and towards the enemy.

26

BORAK

I walk through the wide gates, separating myself from my people and stopping a short distance from the gathered crowd of orcs. I wait patiently for my enemy’s leader to step forward, and when he does, I recognize him.

I rarely deal with the other clans nearby, and I do not bother to learn names when I do. With the Wolf Riders clan so close, though, I recognize their chieftain instantly as he slips free of his front lines and approaches me

“Why have you come?” I ask him in my deep, authoritative voice.

The chieftain’s head stays held high as he assesses me. I am taller than him, and my frame is much wider. If he were to try to attack me, I would assuredly win.

“You have kidnapped one of our own,” the chieftain accuses.

I am shocked, uncertain of where this information has come from. I shake my head as murmurs burst through the two crowds, silencing my people with a fierce look.

“I have done no such thing,” I insist, not wanting to fight with this tribe. I am hopeful that this is a situation that can be solved amicably as it seems to be a misunderstanding.

Before the chieftain can respond, a human lunges forward from the crowd, originally blocked from sight by the chieftain’s massive body. “You are lying!” He shouts, his eyes wide as he takes in my size. “My daughter has been held captive here for weeks!”

There is only one human in my camp, I realize, and I study the man staring up at me. He’s tall and lean with dark skin and very dark black hair that shines brilliantly in the sun. Everything from his jawline to his eyes and the way he crosses his arms is familiar to me, and I know that this must be Candice’s father.

I want to ask him about the letter I sent, but instead of arguing with the man, I only shake my head. “We do not keep human prisoners here,” I tell him. “You must be confused.”

There are soft footsteps behind me as I announce this, and I don’t need to turn to know that it is Candice coming up behind me. She shouts as she approaches, launching herself into her father’s arms.

I don’t know how to feel or react. This man has brought an enemy to my territory to fight for a woman that I am not forcing to stay here. Candice knows this, but she’s so excited to see her father that I wonder if she will defend me.

I can’t entirely blame the man, though, because I know how much he must love Candice. If I were to believe that she was in any danger, I would also round up my men and slaughter anyone that stood between us.

Her head whips around to look at me, and without leaving his embrace, she smiles up at me. “Borak,” she says with pride. “This is my father, Charles. Dad, this is Borak.”

Her father––Charles––looks wildly between the two of us before shaking his head. “No, dear, I’ve come to take you home. You don’t have to play by his rules anymore.”

At his words, she pulls herself back from him, moving closer to me. He reaches forward, but Candice dodges his touch, slowly backpedaling so that the distance is closing between us.

“I’m not going back,” she tells her dad firmly. “I chose to be here.”

She turns, rushing into my arms, and I wrap her in a tight embrace. It’s one of relief because she chose to stay with me when I didn’t have enough faith in her to do so.

I squeeze her against me, fearing that her father will try to forcefully take her back. I know little about human culture, but from my understanding, the parents are allowed to decide who their daughters marry.

It hits me then that that’s what I want. I want to be Candice’s husband. Even more I want to be her mate. While I think that she would choose me, I need her father to understand our bond as well.

“I understand your concern for your daughter,” I tell him, keeping Candice tucked against me. “You have to know that I have never held her captive here, and that she has been well-taken care of. I love her, more than I could ever put into words, and I know that she is my mate.”

Charles’s face turns bright red at my words, and my heart stumbles. I was hoping that he would be as accepting as his daughter has been, but it doesn’t seem that that’s the case.

“You don’t deserve my daughter,” he spits at me, and I can feel my body recoil from the words.

“I know,” I mutter, mustering up the courage to convince him. “I know I don’t, but I am trying to be the kind of mate that she does deserve.”

“You could never be that for her.” Her father is seething, angrier than I ever thought he would be, and the sight of it upsets Candice.

She untangles from my arms, stepping in front of me like she is going to protect me, and I cock my head curiously. I know that she is a force to be reckoned with, but I never thought I’d see her try to keep me safe. She’s a strong and smart woman, though, so I don’t try to pull her back as she bows up at her father.

“I am not going back.” Her foot slams into the ground. “I am very happy here, and you need to understand that. I want to be with Borak, and no matter what you do, you can’t change that.”

Charles’s voice softens as he focuses on his daughter, though his eyes continue to flick up to me. “Candice, I want what’s best for you, and an orc can’t be that.”

“You know nothing about him!” She screeches, and I can see the heat crawling up her skin as she grows enraged. “You can’t decide what is best for me when you aren’t even considering all of the options.”

“You are still a child,” he tells her, and her hands ball up into fists.

“I am 29 years old. Just because I’ve spent my whole life living with you doesn’t make me a child, and you can’t tell me what to do anymore. I am free to make my own decisions, and I choose these people.” Her hand flings out towards my clan, and pride swells within me.

“Your decisions are foolish and are going to get you killed. How did you end up with these orcs anyway? Did they take you?”

In her normal fashion, Candice crosses her arms and her hip juts out just before she answers smugly, “No. I was lost, and they saved me from a bear attack. They are good people who care about me.”

“While it’s convenient,” her father sneers.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think you are of much value to this orc besides a breeder? What happens when you outlive your usefulness?”

Candice doesn’t waver as she snaps back at him. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone could care about me?”

Their conversation is growing steadily more heated as everyone watches on, but my head snaps to the left where a glint of sunlight has distracted me. A figure has stepped out from the crowd, and my body is moving before my brain processes what is going on.

A blinding glare reflects off of something that I can’t place, but I am able to leap forward just before the gun goes off, the loud shot echoing through the crowd and silencing everyone as their eyes all snap towards the sound.

27

CANDICE

The gunshot silences our argument instantly, and I twist towards the sound that was too close to me for comfort. I’m not able to turn before Borak’s body slams into me, though, and I feel the weight of him press against me

A shudder racks through his body, and I feel a warm, wet drip hit my leg, a steady stream starting to form. I groan beneath him, sliding my hand down his back until my hand comes in contact with the slippery liquid.

I pull it back, my body freezing as I see my fingers stained a deep shade of red. It hits me all too fast, and I realize that Borak has been shot.

I scream as I stare at the blood now pouring onto my leg, but my cry is drowned out by a much louder, much deeper one. A chorus of yelps echoes it, and suddenly, the ground feels like it’s shaking, like I’m in the middle of an earthquake that’s ready to rip the world apart.

I scramble out from under Borak, knowing that I am of no use just lying under him, and my suspicions are confirmed as I take in the sight around me. Borak’s men have charged through the gates, lunging at the Wolf Raiders for attacking their chief.

As I lean over his back, running my fingers along the torn flesh, I realize that it is embedded deeper in his skin than a regular bullet would. The blood is still flowing heavily, and I know that an orc would have started to heal if he had been shot with a normal bullet.

I catch a glimpse of the deep silver color buried into Borak’s back, the grooves and tone unique. He was hit with a special bullet meant to maximize damage to an orc. To my knowledge, only my bunker has those.

I whip around to face my father, anger bubbling deep within my gut. He must have brought these orcs here under the ruse of saving me, and now he’s taken away my mate!

“What did you do?” I scream, hitting my knees next to Borak and reaching for him. My eyes narrow at my father, demanding answers. “What did you do to him!”

“I don’t know anything about this!” He insists, holding up his hands.

I don’t have time to deal with him, though. I’m afraid that Borak’s already lost too much blood, and I need to save him. I’m desperate, ripping off pieces of my clothing to staunch the wound, but nothing I do works.

My tears are flowing freely down my face as I try to slow the bleeding, but the wound is too deep. I know he needs more than I can give him out here, but I can’t move him alone. I especially can’t move him back inside the camp until the fighting stops or we will both get hurt in the process.

“I need to operate!” I shout to my father, growing frustrated with the situation.

“I don’t have anything to help you.” His voice sounds almost deflated.

I twist, about to say something to him, but the words die on my tongue when my eyes land on a man about eight feet away. It takes me a few tries to pull my eyes off the barrel trained on me and look up at the face of Borak’s attacker.

I gasp, unable to reconcile what I’m seeing. His head is just in front of the sun, his mess of black curls almost like a halo around his devilish face. There’s a massive sneer cutting across his pale skin, and I sink back on my heels as I stare up at him.

“Janus?”

My father’s head snaps towards him, and he takes a few steps forward. Janus shifts the gun to train it on my father, who freezes, hands raised. “What’s going on here?”

Janus chuckles menacingly. “You can’t be serious? We were brought here to save Candice, and the two of you were just arguing. I was actually trying to save her from that orc that clearly brainwashed her.”

I slowly push up to my feet, fighting against the memory on the edges of my mind. Janus, my friend since I could remember, my bunkmate that loved to turn our chores into games.

I shift a foot forward towards him, almost overcome with a sickening feeling as the wind shifts towards me and his scent washes over me. Janus, the boy who was certain he’d win me over one day as we grew older, his persistence a little endearing at first.

His eyes shift towards me and the golden glow of his hazel eyes almost suck me in. Janus, who was so jealous that I had been rejecting him for fifteen years that he cornered me in my room and tried to force my pants off until I kneed him so hard he collapsed to the ground.

“Come on, Candy,” he smiles at me with that demented grin that makes me want to bash his teeth in. I have told him a thousand times how much I hate that nickname, and out of the corner of my eye, I see my dad use this moment to dart forward as Janus’s gaze stays focused on me.

“You have to see now that I love you. I know it’s been hard for you in the past to see me differently, but I’d do anything for you–“

My dad covers the last few feet with quick bounds, grabbing Janus’s wrist at the same time as he lands a solid punch across the asshole’s face. Janus collapses to the ground, and my dad catches the gun from his hands as he crumples.

I glance down at Borak, who is now lying in a puddle of his own blood, and I can feel the fear and terror climbing up the inside of my throat. I need to save him, but the fight is raging on around us.

With my panic taking over my body in full force, I throw my head back and let out a blood-curdling scream so loud that the orcs freeze, their eyes searching me out.

I pull myself up to my full height, my eyes locking on Iron. “The Wolf Riders did not betray you!” I announce, letting my gaze fall across the orcs that I’ve grown used to seeing. Our servants, Jaal’s tutors, the workers in the shops in the center of town. They’re my people now, too.

“This man,” I gesture to Janus, who is still on the ground with his own gun trained on him, “shot Borak, and if we don’t hurry, he’s going to die. Stop fighting and help me save him.”

The Wolf Riders instantly drop back, understanding on a primal level the need to save a chief. Iron and three others of the Twilight Reapers clan rush forward to grab Borak, and they turn to me.

“Where do we take him?”

“Jaal’s training room,” I answer, knowing that I’ve seen shelves of medical supplies in there. He should be comfortable on the mat and give me the mobility I need to operate.

I throw a glance towards my father, who has lowered the gun as the Wolf Rider’s chieftain approaches. “He is the traitor?” The chieftain asks.

My father nods. “He is not worthy of our people.”

“We can return him to your bunker,” the chieftain offers, his eyes lifting to meet mine. I can see the offer there: to punish him as we see fit.

My father presses the gun into the chieftain’s hand and shakes his head. “Do with him what you would to any traitor.”

Without waiting for a response, he rushes forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a jog as we chase after the men who have Borak. My heart soars to have my father on my side, but my stomach twists as I wonder how far gone Borak is.

“We’ll save him,” my father murmurs to me as we cross into the camp. “I’ll make sure of it.”

28

BORAK

I’m still exhausted when I wake up, so much so that my eyes don’t even open at first. I can hear what’s going on around me, someone’s breathing deep and slow like they are on the edge of sleep, and I can feel an extreme stiffness in my limbs.

I try to open my eyes, and that’s when I realize that my body feels sluggish. My eyelids have grown so heavy, it’s a battle to pry them apart, and no matter how much effort I put into it, I can’t move a limb.

As I try to shift around, a sharp spike of pain spreads through my back, and it’s enough to make my eyes fly open. I feel disoriented as I try to take in my surroundings, but from the ceiling above me, I’m pretty sure I’m in my private quarters.

I tilt my head to the side, curious who is next to me, and my lips curl up when my eyes land on a lean, ferocious female with deep black hair and puffy eyes. Candice yelps when she sees that I’m awake and launches forward, her shoulder slamming into my chest.

I bite back the groan I feel forming in my chest, wrapping my arms around her body instead. I don’t want her to move as happiness and relief washes through me. I bury my face into her hair and inhale, savoring the way she feels and smells.

“I’m so relieved you’re here,” I murmur against her skin, and she pulls back, cocking her head as she stares down at me.

“Where else would I be?”

I lift my fingers to run down the side of her face, admitting, “I feared you would leave with your father, and I would never see you again. It was terrifying for me.”

She grabs my hand and brushes her lips against my fingertips softly. “You have to know that I am not going anywhere. I will always pick you.”

Candice leans forward to close the gap between us, and I thread my fingers through her hair, pulling her closer to me. I push her lips apart, needing to get closer to her. As I grip her waist with my other hand and try to pull her up into the bed, I hear another person clear their throat.

We break apart, and I realize that near my door, her father is standing there. Candice flushes a deep red as she remembers he was watching, and Charles walks closer to my bed.

I try to shift up into a seated position, but Candice forces me to stay still. It’s hard for me to remain lying, though, probably looking weak in her father’s eyes.

“I apologize,” I tell him when he stops just beside us. “I did not realize you were there.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier to know you are sleeping with my daughter.”

I’m stunned, uncertain of what to say when Candice slaps him on the shoulder, and Charles bursts out into laughter. “Stop teasing him.”

He chokes as he gasps for air, and I wait, not sure what to say. “Borak, I am the one who needs to apologize for what I said. I was wrong in assuming that you would not care for Candice just because you are an orc.

“You sacrificed your life for hers, and I can see that you are a good orc. You’ve proven to me that you love my daughter the way she deserves, and that is all I need to know. I respect her decision to stay here with you as long as you will allow us to visit.”

I grin up at him, unable to contain the excitement coursing through my veins. I knew that Candice had picked me, but I would have felt guilty if it had caused problems between her and her family. I am so relieved that she can now have everyone she loves still in her life.

“Of course,” I answer, nodding my head sharply. “You and your family are welcome any time you like.”

There’s a sharp rap against the door as it nudges open, and Iron’s head pops in. His eyes are trained on Charles as he asks, “Are you ready?”

“One more second,” he answers with a shake of his head.

Charles smiles widely, his eyes moving to Candice. Strong emotion swirls in them, and as he watches her, tears begin to collect, too. “Candice, I’ve always wanted the best for you, and I am so glad that you were able to find it, even if it took me a while to see it. I’m overjoyed for the both of you to be able to share your life together.”

He takes Candice’s hand in his left and mine in his right, grasping each of us tightly. “I give you both my blessing to move forward in life however you choose,” he lowers his voice into a gruff whisper, “though I hope there will be a wedding for my only daughter.”

She chuckles, dropping her head as it flushes pink, and I rub my hand along her back. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed at the thought of us marrying, but I don’t press it now.

“I hope that together you grow and prosper.” He drops our hands, reaching across the bed for his daughter. “I love you.”

She’s fighting back tears, I can tell, as she kisses his cheek. “I love you, too, Dad.”

He turns back to me, and I’m still a little too shocked and drugged up to know what to do, but he offers me his hand. “It was great to meet you, Borak.”

I take it, pumping it once before letting go. “You as well, Charles.”

With one last sweet glance at his daughter, he turns on his heel and follows Iron out, presumably to return to his bunker. I look to Candice, cocking my head.

“What the hell happened while I was out?”

“I operated on you, and you will make a full recovery.”

I waved my hand. “Even if I could fly, it would be less weird than how your father just treated me. Explain that.”

She chuckles, smiling down at me and making my heart flutter. “The guy that shot you was a man from my bunker who was jealous that I rejected him. He always has been. I think my dad saw how much you care for me and realized he was wrong, especially after someone else tried to shoot me.”

“I told you I would never let anything happen to you.” I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, and she leans in again, our lips meeting tentatively.

I want to pull her in my bed, but before I can, I hear the door begin to creep open again. “Dammit,” I grumble, and Candice pats my chest as she chuckles.

When I look to the door, though, I am elated to see Jaal standing there, looking a little nervous. My face splits into a massive smile, and I call out to my boy, “Jaal!”

He lights up, the tension melting from him as he rushes in, and I’m shifting halfway off the bed to catch him in my arms. I know that I haven’t always shown it, but I love this kid so much, and not knowing what happened to him was excruciating.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he mumbles against me, caught in a massive hug between Candice and me. I hear him sniffle, and I press him tighter against me.

“Me, too, but you should have known that I was going to be alright from the very beginning,” I assure him.

He pulls back to look at me quizzically. “How so?”

I smile, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Because I told you that I would never let anything happen to you,” I see Candice smile out of the corner of my eye, probably thinking how cheesy I am, “and that means I will conquer death for you, son.”

Jaal throws himself back against me, and I squeeze both him and Candice tighter, savoring the way it feels to have my own little family protected in my arms.

29

CANDICE

It took about two weeks before Borak fully recovered, though he still denies it. He tried telling me on the second day, with his back hunched over and his face twisted up in pain, that he was perfectly fine. I barely touched him, and he almost hit the floor, so I was able to get him back on bedrest until his body had actually recovered.

“I think you’re going overboard,” I tell him, picking at the fruit on my plate.

My eyes dart up to where Jaal is across from me, beaming widely. It’s the first breakfast we’ve had outside of Borak’s room since he was injured. It seems to be doing everyone some good to see him up and acting like his old self.

“Is it such a shame that I want a celebration?” He asks, brushing his shoulder against mine. I count to three in my head, ready for his dramatic explosion when he flings himself back in his chair and clutches his chest. “I almost died, Candice! It’s like you don’t even care about me.”

I elbow him. “Shut up.”

He chuckles and returns to his food, but not before saying in a soft but still authoritative voice, “Send them a letter. I’m not backing down from this.”

I don’t argue because I am a little excited to have a party. Though I’m not much of a drinker or dancer, I am eager to have a night of letting go, of no responsibilities. My whole body is sore from how tense my muscles have been for weeks, and it would be nice to relax for once.

The fact that Borak wants my family to attend really is the cherry on top. I’m eager to see them, and as a result, I rush off after breakfast to write to them while Borak walks Jaal to his tutor’s office.

I’m not sure how long Borak has had a party planner on his payroll, but now that I know about him, I will definitely be utilizing him more. The party looks fantastic, even though they are still putting the finishing touches on it, and it was all set up in a matter of two days.

My mother responded that same night I sent them a letter, confirming that they would love to come to the camp and celebrate with us. My father had told them all what Borak had done for me, and now my mother and brothers were very interested in meeting this orc.

Even though her letter was very amicable, I’m still nervous as I wait for them. Borak brought me to the veranda so I could see them as soon as they arrived. He’s relaxed back on one of the cushioned benches, but I can’t sit still. I’m bouncing on my toes and standing at the entrance, fidgeting.

“Candice,” Borak starts, leaning forward to catch my waist, and I gasp. He turns to see the gates swing open just after I do, and he drops his hands.

My feet hit the ground before I realize that I’m running. Between the orcs, I can see my mother, much smaller than the five men surrounding her, her long hair glistening in the sun.

As I approach, the orcs move out of my way, and my mother catches me in her arms, squeezing me tight. “Oh, Candice,” she murmurs.

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by my brothers, who are picking me up and jostling me about playfully. I slap them when I can until my father cuts in and makes them put me down.

“Borak,” my father says, and I whip around to see that he has joined us, making his way over to our group much slower so that I can say hello first.

“Charles.” Borak holds out his hand, which my father takes. “Nice to see you again.”

“You as well. You look much better.”

Bork chuckles lightly. “Yes, I feel it, too.” His eyes slide to my mother, and he grins wider. “You must be Maurine,” he says softly, reaching towards her.

My mother blushes softly, giving him her hand as she shakes her head. “You’re the orc that saved my daughter?”

He smiles, cocking his head. “I think she saved me.”

My mother slams against him, wrapping him up in a hug that catches him by surprise. “Thank you for taking such good care of my little girl.”

He pats her on the back, and it warms my heart to see how quickly they are taken with him. “I would do anything for Candice,” he promises her before pulling back and standing up. “Would you like a tour?”

We spend the afternoon with Borak, touring the camp and visiting their rooms. Jaal finds us after his lessons, and he fits in so well with my brothers that I can’t stop smiling. I can tell that my mother loves Borak by the way she is practically clinging to him.

Everyone in my family, especially my brothers, has thanked him at least twice for saving my life as well. I’m bright red by the time we make through dinner between my brother’s roughhousing, my mother’s questions, and their insistence that they owe him.

Thankfully, the low thrum of music interrupts another bought of conversation, and I jump to my feet. “I think the party is starting.”

My family is amazed by the little area that’s been set up, strings of lights weaving between buildings and tables of food and drinks peppering the center of the camp. I dive in, saying hello as I gulp down the drinks I desperately need.

Borak catches me, pulling me onto the dance floor. I shake my head at him, trying to pull away. “I don’t dance.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Tonight, you do.”

I yelp as he drags me onto the dance floor, but between the alcohol and the company, I forget myself. Orcs from around the camp come pouring out, and soon, the whole camp is bustling with conversation and dancing.

The night seems to run away from me, and soon, I’m exhausted and slick with sweat. My cheeks hurt from smiling, but I can’t help it. Seeing Borak acting his kindest, most playful self fills me with so much joy, I don’t think I could be any happier.

At least I didn’t think I could until Borak lets out a low whistle, and the music pauses. I freeze, staring at him curiously, and the orcs around us back up some, shoving my family forward. They’ve made a small circle around us, and my heart nearly leaps in my throat when Borak takes my hands in his.

“Candice,” he purrs, shifting back. “You know that I love you more than anything in this world, but I will never stop trying to prove that to you. You’ve made me such a better person, and I know that you’ve already chosen to stay here, but…”

His back knee hits the floor, an act so human that it catches me by surprise because I know that orcs don’t do engagements. Yet, Borak is kneeling before me, my mother audibly squealing behind me as I try to suck in deep breaths.

“I want to make it official between us. I want to be everything for you in every way I can. Will you, Candice Lark, promise to continue making me a better orc and be my mate?”

Tears are spilling down my cheeks as I nod furiously, throwing my arms around Borak’s neck. His hands come around to grip my waist, pulling me up with him as he rises to his feet without breaking the kiss.

My legs are locked around his rib cage, my knees digging into the skin there as he cups the backs of my thighs. I finally break away, nearly gasping for a breath. “Of course, I will.”

His hand cups the back of my head, bringing me back to him as he starts to walk. I pull back from him, realizing that he’s leaving the party, and I cock my head as I stare at him.

“I have other plans for you tonight,” he murmurs, breaking into a jog to get to his home faster.

Heat builds in between my legs, and I don’t protest as I bring my lips back to his. He barely can contain himself, and because of his roaming hands, I’m already naked when he bursts into his chambers, lifting me up to devour me before my back even hits the bed.

30

CANDICE

My mother is fussing around me, constantly correcting my posture and fixing strands of my hair as I protest. I’ve insisted that Borak had a party planner who could have taken care of the ceremony, but she hasn’t been having it.

As a result, my mother has practically been living at the camp for the past month. Everyone knows her now as she has been helping plan what I thought would be a small wedding and mating ceremony.

“Your day is going to be perfect,” she tells me, fluffing the veil and adjusting the outfit that I relented to letting her sew for me.

“Mom, it was always going to be perfect. I have the right guy, and that’s all that matters to me.”

She huffs, and I sigh, letting her mess with the headband she has pinned to my head to hold the veil in. My hair curls slightly around the headpiece, and it tickles against my skin.

I try to shift my shorts down, but my mom slaps my hands away. She made me a cute ivory romper with a simple V-neck and a lacy overlay so that it looks like a dress, except the skirt is completely see-through.

There’s a soft knock on the door, and I turn towards it, my heart fluttering. I hope that it’s Borak, my only calm amid the crazy storm that has been planning this entire ceremony.

My mother’s eyes narrow as she rushes to it, and I know that she won’t let him see me until it’s time. She’s been very protective of human traditions. I have to have something borrowed and something blue, and she even made me sleep in her room last night.

I bite on my bottom lip, knowing it will all be worth it. Thankfully, Borak has found it more endearing and amusing than anything else, but he’s probably not being subjected to this prodding like cattle right now.

My mom steps back, letting my father in the room, and his jaw almost hits the floor as he takes me in. I know I look different as I’ve never cared to fix my hair, which is why it’s so short, or put on anything besides work pants. His reaction, though, makes me glance again in the mirror.

“Candice,” he breathes, coming closer to take my hands. “You look stunning, dear.”

I blush, dropping my eyes. “Thank you, Dad.”

“Twirl for him!” My mom squeals, clapping her hands together, and for a moment, I indulge her.

My father lifts his hand into the air, twisting my wrist so that I turn and the skirt around me flares out. My mom let me wear chunky boots instead of heels, so I manage not to fall as I turn on my toes.

“It looks beautiful, honey,” my dad tells my mom, whose eyes are sparkling as she watches me.

“Yes, she does,” she sighs and glances at the clock. “Oh! We need to go!”

She rushes my father and me out the door, hurrying to go meet the other planner or caterer. I chuckle as I watch her sprint across the yard, my arm looped through my father’s.

“How has she been?” His eyes are tracking her, his face softened as he stares after her.

“Busy, but I think the whole thing has made her really happy.”

He presses a kiss to the side of my head, and my stomach flutters as we round the building. In the distance, I see the veranda that’s been turned into an altar, and the aisle leading up to it.

“What about you?”

“I’ve been underwhelmed by Mom’s standards.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “She worried about you for a long time, you know.”

I look to him as he guides me around towards the aisle. “Why?”

“No one was ever the right match for you, and she worried that you were lonely. You are such a strong person that she didn’t want you to feel like you could depend on anyone.”

We stop just short of where the chairs start, and I can feel people twisting to stare at me. Still, my father takes a moment to fluff my veil, running his thumb along my jawline. “We are both so happy to see that you have found someone to treat you as an equal. We never wanted you to bend to another. We just wanted you to have a rock as sturdy as you are for when you need it.”

Tears sting at my eyes as he offers me his arm. “I do, now.”

We float down the aisle, my eyes now locked on Borak, and his lips are parted, his jaw loosened. His eyes are sparkling as he watches me, and our gaze never breaks, even as my dad places my hands into his.

The mating ceremony is almost the same as a human wedding. The words are a little different, but the sentiment is the same, and my mom put as many of our traditional touches on it as she could.

I don’t listen as we move through the vows really. I know what I need to say, but when they turn to me, asking me if I will take Borak to be mine through everything that comes our way, I almost stumble over my words.

He chuckles with me, making me feel more relaxed, and finally, they announce for us to kiss. He wraps his arms around me, bending me back as he deepens our kiss, and when he brings me back up, he scoops me up against his chest.

“Is this the mating part?” I ask him, remembering that he mentioned something about it before.

The orcs cheer as he carries me down the aisle, but instead of turning towards the ceremony, he heads towards his house.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Orcs celebrate after the mating is complete, which usually takes a few hours. Our guests are going to gorge themselves on food and wine until nightfall while we finalize our union.”

I wrinkle my nose. “They all know we’re going to be having sex?”

He chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I don’t think they really care about that. You should see the spread your mom arranged.”

I throw my head back, forgetting the nerves that feel tangled in my stomach. “I’m sorry about her.”

Borak drops a kiss on my exposed throat, sending a chill up my spine. “I’ve enjoyed her company. It’s been nice getting to know your family more.”

I lift my head, narrowing my eyes at him. “Really?”

He nods, shouldering his way into his private quarters. “Really.” He dropped me unceremoniously onto the bed. “Now, the only words I want to hear out of your mouth for the next two hours are ‘please’ and ‘yes.’”

My breath caught in my throat as heat flushed down my body. I am surprised at his words, and I hold up one finger. “I will agree to that after you help out of this. My mom will kill me if I ruin this outfit before the reception.”

He shakes his head, crawling up my body until he’s hovering over me. He dips his head in next to my ear, grazing his teeth along my lobe and making my back arch. “I had her make you a second outfit.”

With that his mouth crashes against mine, his lips pressing mine apart. His tongue swipes along the inside of my mouth, and my legs wrap around his waist, my hips grinding against him and looking for purchase.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck. “So eager,” he breathes against me, coming to the bottom V-neck. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

Borak’s fingers grip the fabric ripping it open and leaving my breasts exposed. His mouth finds one nipple then the other, swirling around it before moving on. I shudder under his hot breath, the agony of his teasing almost overwhelming me.

I whimper as his mouth brushes past my apex and down my legs, and he whispers against the inside of my knee, “Don’t worry. I’m going to give you everything you want and more.” He runs his tongue up to my center. “I love you, Candice, and I want to show you how much I mean that.”

The End. To read a slice of life between Candice and Borak, join the Celestials here: https://www.subscribepage.com/celesteking

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31

KAT

Mushrooms stink.

It’s something you would think I’d get used to, considering that I’ve been doing it all day every day for years, but it never fails to get to me. To be fair, the mushrooms themselves don’t smell too bad, but they thrive on shit. Shit, darkness, and dampness. Overall, it’s like working in a swamp.

I run my hands along the loose, wet soil, searching for the bases of the mushrooms. If you clip them too high, then your overall weights will end up under the limit. The stalks are edible and to get a maximum yield, it’s important to take out every single inch.

The little soft stems come loose with just a bit of pressure from my fingers. I collect them gently and toss them into a big hessian bag before starting on the next row.

I know, I was made for more than this.

My father was a doctor and he trained me to be a medic. He did this at considerable risk to himself and me. Women are forbidden to learn any trade that isn’t manual labor. My father could have been executed for this crime and me with him, had any of our overlords known of it.

My face twists as I hold in my temper. Our overlords are bad, but those on the surface are worse.

Orcs.

I focus as hard as I can on the soil and the harvesting. I need to force my mind away from the frustration in case I’m noticed. Troublemakers aren’t tolerated and the overlords love an excuse to make an example of someone. I have to take deep breaths of the foul air and blink hard several times to calm myself.

Don’t think about father. Don’t think about anything except the mushrooms.

I need to keep my head down and work so I can survive another day. As futile as that seems most of the time, I know that to the other women my medical skills are vital. My knowledge is a liability that could get me killed, but it’s also the only thing keeping myself and the other trapped women alive.

Just as I reach for my sack to throw in another handful of mushrooms, a sharp bell tones above my head. The room is very dark, and I can’t see the ceiling, but a row of flickering lights added to the bell let me know that we are being ordered to stop.

An overseer lumbers by, his face twisted with disdain as he passes me. His fingers tighten on his long weapon as if he is expecting trouble. I keep my eyes down and stay on my knees.

“You’re needed by the Plutarch. Head to the front area immediately.” His voice is such a guttural growl that conveys his belief that I belong to him solely because I’m female.

As I hurry up the rows towards the front, I see about a dozen other women heading the same way. I have no idea how many people reside in Bunker 83 in total, but there is about a hundred working on the mushroom fields with me. My stomach begins to twist as we go through the door into the main foyer area.

This is usually where we are addressed by the Plutarch or any other important Orc. The main foyer is situated between the bunk area and the mushroom fields and is cleaner than both. Our superiors prefer not to enter the ‘filthy’ female areas.

When we file into the dull grey room the Plutarch is already there, standing above the room over the stairs. He watches us enter with wide, cold eyes. I try as hard as I can to stay cool, but inside, I’m screaming. My eyes keep darting around the room, looking into the faces of the other women. Some just look resigned and tired. Others, like me, are downright freaked out.

“Congratulations, slaves,” the Plutarch grins as if he’s about to toss riches from the platform. “You have been specially selected for a trip to the surface.”

Even though my fear jumps up a few more notches, I find myself frozen in place. I can’t even tremble, I’m so scared. Women who go to the surface don’t come back.

Well, okay. There were a few that did. They were vapid eyed, drooling statues. They were barely any good for harvesting anymore. I don’t know what’s worse—dying down there, or having my mind destroyed while my body still lives.

“This will be a supply excursion, an important mission. You should be thankful for this opportunity,” the Plutarch grins at us, long rows of sharp, blackened teeth being exposed by his thick lips lifting up. He goes on in a lofty voice, but I’m not paying attention.

Just a month ago another group of women disappeared on the surface. I know this is a virtual death sentence. I also know that roving bands of savage Orcs up there could mean a fate worse than death. I glance around at the other girls, panic rising in my throat.

I can’t let these girls down. Of all the slaves here, I might be the only one who can keep them alive. My fear begins to cement itself into determination. They can condemn me, but it doesn’t mean I’ll die. I won’t be quick to succumb to madness, either. Not while I have my own mission.

No matter what orders I am given, my only objective will be to care for these women. My fear still roils deep in my guts, but I bite my lip hard and look up at the Plutarch, tempted to shoot him a glare of defiance. I don’t dare though. I have to be impeccable. I have to be the most obedient of all the prisoners taken to the surface.

It’s the only way to keep myself and my friends alive.

32

THORUK

The air is far too still. It seems to be a sunny, peaceful day, but the birds are not singing, the insects are not buzzing and the small creatures are not scuttling through the underbrush. This is not a day of peace.

The only reason for this kind of hush is that our enemy is nearby. We are moving to meet the Scarred Foot clan in battle, and we must prevail.

The forest that has reclaimed the old city of San Francisco is lush and thick. I step carefully through the grass, keeping myself within the dappled shade. I look across the tree line and see the slight glint of a yellow eye that tells me my men are in a line right across this section of trees. The enemy can’t be far away.

I stop for a moment, closing my eyes. I can hear the wind high above and the noises of birds and animals further away. This brief scan enables me to feel the size of our circle of influence. Even though we move with stealth, the forest creatures are very aware of us. I know the other army is close—they also know I’m not far away. The key point is to use this to our advantage and not get jumped unawares.

As I open my eyes, I see a few of my Orcs moving past. The scent of their anger and anticipation is thick. They won’t wait much longer, and I had better find the right direction and point them at it before this situation explodes.

For the past few months, the Scarred Foot clan have begun to cut in on our hunting grounds. Not only is it an insult to me to have them on my territory, but I also can’t afford to share. My people will starve. I have to kill them all or wound them badly enough that they never think of returning. I know they will be in the woods today and I planned to take them by surprise.

The hush of the forest tells me I’ve failed. If they were unaware of us, there would be some noise and at least some of the woodland’s creatures would be acting normally. The fact that they have all cleared out and left us in silence means they can feel the tension in the air. Animals learn fast. They know by now that large numbers of Orcs moving quietly from place to place means battle.

They are smart to get out of the way. The only thing we are hunting right now is each other.

I glance to the side and see a couple of my men sneaking through the trees. There is a large clearing ahead and I’m pretty sure the Scarred Foot clan are positioned there, waiting to drive us into the center so they can slaughter us. I’ll direct my Orcs around the edges and hopefully meet them on more even ground.

I’m jumpy today and I don’t like it. My sister, Rukt, is about to give birth to her first child. Females are so very rare and successful births are even rarer. Orcs don’t fear much, but the very thought of something going wrong with her sends terror shivering down my spine. I have to secure these hunting grounds, so she is safe. I need to get back to my clan as quickly as possible so I can protect her.

I shake my head a little and focus on the trees again. With my long blade I point in one direction, then the other, giving my Orcs a meaningful glance. They split and head down both sides of the clearing and I wave my hand to call the rear warriors up.

Screams and roars break out immediately and I see that I was right—they were hiding around the clearing. I charge into the oncoming Orcs with a battle roar of my own, twirling my massive blade and slicing left and right.

For the first few minutes the battle is total chaos. The air is filled with grunts and sharp roars, punctuated by the hissing of blood and wet thuds as skulls are cracked. I fight on, working myself into something of a frenzy. It’s not until I take a massive hit on my arm that I pause and look around the field.

The fight has stretched right through the clearing as well as into the forest across both sides. I cut the head off my opponent somewhat absently and run into the clearing, keenly watching to see if the fight has tipped in our favor yet.

To my shock, some of my best warriors are down on the ground in pools of blood. The rest of my band is being pushed out into the trees as the Scarred Foot clan scatter them and take them apart.

“Fuck me,” I whisper as I watch the scene. Not only did the Scarred Foot intend to push us into an ambush, but they have now recovered and changed strategy in time to put us on the run.

This worries me. These guys aren’t big thinkers. I’ve never seen them display strategy of this kind before.

My moment of contemplation ends abruptly as an enemy Orc slashes at my face. My Orcs are retreating on the other side of the meadow. With a surge of fury, I realize I’m cut off and I have no choice but to flee in the opposite direction of my men.

I turn and run, heading for the main part of the city. Even though it’s been completely taken over by forest, the skeletons of some buildings remain, covered in a verdant green carpet. I can hide there until I can outsmart them and find my way back to my clan.

33

KAT

The ride to the surface is fairly uneventful. I spend most of the time taking deep breaths and deliberately clearing my mind. The other girls are in various states of fear and shock, only a couple of them seem calm.

I look around the group and when anyone catches my eye, I smile reassuringly. It’s impossible to teach them that their mindset determines their fate—the more you tell someone not to be scared, the more terrified they’ll become.

Just like telling an angry woman to calm down.

The best I can do is offer support and comfort and try and keep them calm.

When the doors open and we stagger out into the light, our jailers hand out our tasks. I’ve been assigned to collect charcoal for the air filtration system. My best friend and two other girls I know well are given the same job. Others are looking for herbs, some are instructed to look at the soil and test for mineral deposits.

We head out, fanning through the trees. All of us are on edge and the slightest noise makes everyone jump. I know I haven’t got much chance of finding charcoal in the center of a lush forest—for fuck’s sake, why don’t the Orcs just make it themselves? It would be easy to dry out some of the huge trees after felling them and burn them down into purified, active charcoal.

Honestly, how am I supposed to find charcoal just scattered randomly in a goddamn forest?

If I open my mouth and voice my opinion, I’ll just get punished. It’s better that the Orcs don’t know how intelligent I am, and this won’t be the first time I’ve had to hide myself from them.

As we spread out, I hear the soft voices of the others as they start to relax. It’s not like we’re all at ease but everyone has focused on their jobs and that has occupied their minds, at least for now. Strange noises echo through the trees and I keep my eyes on the other women more than the ground. I don’t know what will happen if I go back empty handed, but my friends are more important to me than any possible punishment.

I’m bending down to look through a pile of rubble when I hear something behind me. It’s only a faint sound, like a bird’s wing brushing against the leaves. My guts twist and I know, this isn’t just my nerves. Something is there. I can feel it.

I turn my head very slowly. I take deep breaths and will my heart to be still. Sweat has broken out all over me and I know, every animal in a mile radius can probably smell me and my fear.

My eyes rake across the green curtains of the forest. I’m almost ready to turn back to my work when I see a pair of gold eyes staring right at me through the shadows.

I’m so shocked that I stagger backwards, falling on my ass.

“Kat? What is it?” My best friend hurries to my side, giving me a hand to get up. I point at the nearby shadows.

Before I can speak there is a roar to my left and a huge lioness leaps out. I stagger back, grabbing my friend and dragging her with me. Other girls start to scream and draw near to us.

A second lioness comes from the other side of the forest and the one directly in the middle—the one that I saw first—begins to stalk her way out from her hiding place.

“She’s the alpha,” my voice squeaks in my throat. “There will be more of them. They’re stalking us.”

Some of the girls scream, others start to cry. We’re all holding each other’s hands and backing away slowly, barely avoiding tripping over each other. I hear growls nearby and I estimate there are about five lions stalking us.

I have no idea what to do. I keep the girls in a close bunch, all of us holding hands and moving as one. I point us vaguely in a direction away from the lions and keep moving. I have no way of knowing if the way is clear, I’m just guessing and hoping.

With a roar that shatters the silence a massive lion leaps from the trees into our path. Everyone screams and tries to run. This only causes everyone to get tangled and most of us go down in a pile of untidy limbs. I struggle back to my feet, trying to hold on to my friends and find a way to escape.

One of the girls screams, a sound of pure and complete terror. The sound becomes rough with pain and I see the shiny golden coats of the lions as they leap towards the sound.

The big male has her down on the ground. He’s got his paws down on her back while his huge teeth tear into her shoulder. The others are converging on them, all of the big cats desperate for their own piece of meat.

My throat closes and tears run down my cheeks. For a few seconds I see her wide, terrified eyes.

She’s begging me to save her.

Those eyes will haunt my dreams every night for the rest of my life.

Because I have to let her go.

“Come on!” The scream rips from my throat as I gather the others close to me. “Run! Run now!”

I push the others ahead of me and keep yelling and shoving them until they are running like a herd of gazelle. I glance back once, and the lions are all over the poor girl. I swallow down my guilt and bolt, focusing on my feet hitting the ground and nothing else. I’ve got the rest of my life to grieve—right now I have to run. Not just to save my life, but to save us all.

34

THORUK

I jog through the old streets for some time, giving the main battle ground a wide berth before I turn and head back towards our stronghold. I’m worried that the Scarred Foot kept chasing my Orcs through the forest and slaughtered them. My guys are excellent fighters, and they love carnage, but brutality alone won’t win against strategy.

I don’t think they will be bold enough to attack our home turf, but I really don’t know. I’ve got to get back there and hopefully, put my team back together. I know some of my best warriors went down in this fight and my heart is scarred just as much as my pride.

Overall, there is a numbing sense of loss. I started out today with full confidence that I would secure the hunting grounds to keep my people safe and fed. Now I have to return and reassure my people that—somehow—I can keep them from going hungry, as well as deal with the loss of our warriors.

My fists clench as I jog through the forest. They will pay for this. Of that, I am certain.

I slow down near a small pond and splash cold water on my wounds, taking a few sips as I wash off my face. For a couple of minutes, the air is still, and I let myself relax. I’ll make it home. I’ll get my guys together and then the Crimson Span will stomp the fucking Scarred Foot clan into pieces.

A flock of birds burst out of the bushes on the other side of the pond, making me jump. That’s when I hear the loud footfall of a heavy animal and pull out my blade, cursing.

The sounds break into a rumble and I know I’m being charged by cavalry. I stand my ground and prepare to defend myself.

The Scarred Foot riders come tearing through the scrub, their animals splashing water either side as they come at me from across the pond. There are four of them, all mounted on mighty Percherons. The beasts barely resemble the original creatures for which they are named—they are alike in height and bulk, but there the similarity ends.

Percherons were a type of heavy horse. These things are feline, with sinuous, long bodies and flexible spines. They have three pronged tails which serve as weapons along with their fangs and claws.

I crouch and raise my weapon. They are too close together and for me, they will be easy pickings. As they charge, I leap straight up, spinning. My blade slices through the necks of the first two Orcs and their mounts keep running into the forest, carrying their now headless riders.

I come down hard on both feet and whirl my weapon as I turn to face the last two. One comes right at me and the other moves to one side to come at me from the opposite direction. I throw myself to the ground and roll, spinning under the belly of once of the beasts. I slash upward but instead of disemboweling it as I intended, I only scratch it across the belly.

The wounded animal screams and stomps frantically, trying to cut me with its claws or crush me under its weight. I roll again and flip, coming up on my feet and pointing my blade at the rider. Just as he begins to charge, I feel a sharp blow to my shoulder. I throw a glance behind me and see the other rider there, pointing his bow.

The fucker shot me!

“Enough of this!” I spin to one side, deftly missing the charge of the wounded Percheron. As it passes, I crouch down and slash with my weapon, taking it out at the knees. The beast screams as it hits the dirt, flipping over as its weight adds to its momentum. I don’t wait to see what becomes of the rider. I immediately turn to the Orc who still has me right in his sights.

He lets fly with an arrow, but I’m too fast for him. I’m impressed by the way he handles his animal with just his knees while he shoots with the bow, but he isn’t fast enough. Running in a zig zag I get closer and closer until I’m charging dead on, looking right into his eyes. With a scream of determination, he fires right at my face. I flip back and then put all my momentum into a forward somersault.

I go flying right over the beast’s shoulder and connect with the guy’s chest. We both roar as we hit the ground and his mount dances about for a few seconds before it tosses its head and runs. I dropped my blade in the fall but that doesn’t make much difference to me.

Before he can even move, I slam my hands against his skull and crush his bones in one brutal slap. He doesn’t even have time to scream. I stand up slowly, shaking my hands a little to remove a bit of the blood and bone.

A moan in the grass gets my attention and I find the last guy pinned by his animal. His eyes glare up at me, only half of his upper body exposed. His Percheron is making high, whiny noises as it struggles to get back up on to its ruined legs. I take out my blade and stab him through the neck with one vicious stroke.

When I turn back to the pond to wash, I cry out as I reach for the water. That’s when I remember that I got shot and the pulling sensation is from the arrow through my right shoulder. I snap off the shaft and check out the wound. It will require some care to treat and I’m not in the mood for that much effort right now.

I’ll rest a bit before I head back to Crimson Span. The arrowhead can stay where it is for the moment.

To Be Continued. To read more click here