Page 16 of The Billionaire Orc

“Mom, all the money I sent—It’s still in the bank, isn’t it?”

Mom refused to meet his eyes. She went over to her dressing table and started to scrape her thin green hair into a bun. Older female orcs stopped braiding their hair as it got thinner. A bun was the norm for elders.

Tor huffed an exasperated sigh. “You could have brought yourself a decent comfy bed.” He looked again in disgust at the old orc bed with its narrow horsehair mattress.

“This is better for my back. Besides,” she smiled, “love is what matters, not money.”

He shook his head, trying not to feel guilty that the love from him had been in short supply lately. “Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“In bed asleep. He was stomping around the house groaning, so your sister made him go lie down. I’ve been almost wishing the good goddess would smite him down. I’m not used to having him in my space.”

“What was he doing on a ladder anyway?”

His mom hesitated, fumbling to tie up her traditional orc tunic at the back. Tor went and helped her. “There was a leak in the roof next to the chimney,” she muttered finally.

“Mom!” Tor threw up his hands. “The money I send is for you to get paid help. You could have hired a roofer.”

She sighed. “You know what your dad’s like—only he can fix things properly.”

“At seventy-two, he needs to bloody well slow down.”

His mom shrugged. “You think I haven’t told him? He hasn’t taken to being retired.” She turned big dark green eyes on him. “What would your dad do if we got people in to fix stuff, eh? Sit around staring at these four walls?”

Tor gulped. “You could come to Selig anytime, have a holiday. I’d pay for you both to travel in luxury. There’s interesting places to visit over my side of the ranges.”

“Pffft. Us? It was enough your dad drove to the mine up past Twill every day for fifty years. No, luv, we had our trip to Selig. Very nice place. We enjoyed it…”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well, your father got anxious. He remembers the ogre uprisings, the skirmishes.” She sighed. “We thought we’d lost you to ogres when you left…”

“Mom, you know how sorry I am about that. I just… I went a bit crazy I think, after Loman died. I just had to get away from Motham.”

She stroked his cheek, looked deep into his eyes. “We’re happy for you, son, and grateful, we really are, Tor. It’s just… coin, it doesn’t mean much here in Motham. And who wants to lord it over the community, with a new car and fancy toys?” Her face broke into a smile. “C’mon, let’s wake up your dad. He’ll be rapt to see you.” And with that, she grabbed Tor’s hand and led him into the adjoining room.

His father lay asleep, snoring. As Tor gazed down at him, he remembered the strong figure of his father, his huge frame, the tireless work he’d done in the mines to feed their family. That man was hard to recognize in this sunken form, the deep lines on his forehead and around his mouth.

But when his father’s dark eyes opened, and a huge joyful smile spread over his face on seeing Tor, he was still his dad. He struggled up on his pillows. “Ah, my boy.” He winced. “You’re not seeing me at my best. Bloody head hurts to buggery, and look at this stupid useless leg.” He rapped the cast with his knuckles.

Tor sat down on the edge of the bed and gave his dad an awkward hug, his eyes panning the sparse room, not even a rug on the flagstone floor. He couldn’t desert his family, not after seeing the way they still chose to live, with his dad putting himself at risk repairing the roof and Mom working her fingers to the bone when they should be enjoying their twilight years.

And what about being around for his sister as she raised her younglings?

What about finding a mate of your own?

It all collided on him as he slapped his dad gently on the back.

This was his history, his heritage.

He could no longer deny his roots.

He needed to return to them.

Shona was feeling uncharacteristically hot and bothered. Her lipstick had been nibbled off, her hair was nowhere near as bouncy as normal, and she was feeling almost sweaty in the warm sunshine. Meanwhile, the orc by her side seemed consummately at ease as he strode from room to room of the huge baroque style mansion they were viewing, barely giving any of it a second glance.

He guffawed loudly at the ornate fittings in the bathroom with the winged mirrors and gilt everywhere.

He squinted up at the ornate chandeliers and muttered words she didn’t understand.

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