Page 18 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

Torren’s mouth twitches in amusement despite his frown. “Are you angry on behalf of our entire race?”

“Yes!” I stomp closer and halt in front of him, hands on my hips again. “This is so unfair.”

He leans toward me suddenly and captures my waist. He doesn’t yank me down forcefully but nudges me lightly in his direction, leaving me enough room to twist away if I wanted to.

But I don’t. Because it turns out, his touch has some magical calming properties, or at least it distracts me from my incensed thoughts enough that I can finally take a deep breath again. I lean into his touch and allow him to draw me closer, then pull me into his lap.

I’m immediately surrounded by warmth. It’s amazing, especially in contrast with the cool morning air, and I can’t help but lean against Torren’s chest, sighing deeply.

“I’ll only hold you,” he says. “Never fear.”

It didn’t even occur to me to be afraid of him. Like last night in the corridor, I wouldn’t have gone into the forest alone with Torren if I’d thought he would try to hurt me.

“I trust you,” I whisper.

He shudders, and his arms tighten a little around me. “Thank you,” he rasps.

We stay like that for a long while, and I listen to his steady heartbeat and the occasional sniff he makes, his nose pressed against my temple.

There’s one question that has crystallized from everything he’s told me. But I don’t know if I can ask it yet, not with Torren and Morg being sworn enemies since before I arrived at the Hill. If they weren’t, the path to our future happiness would seem so clear. I don’t know how to deal with the clear distance between them—or if they’d even want to try.

But maybe for me, they would.

Chapter

Seven

Torren and I return to the Hill after our breakfast and some cuddling at the waterfall. I was reluctant to leave, but I said I’d meet Rose for lunch, and I don’t want a search party to be sent out for us. Besides, no matter how much I’m enjoying my time with Torren, I promised to spend the afternoon with Morg, and I’m very much looking forward to that as well.

The great hall is bustling with activity at this time of the day, and most of the clan must be gathered here to share a meal. Orcs—and a handful of humans—mill around the long tables, filling almost every available space. At the raised table on the other side of the large chamber, an orc with an iron crown sits on his throne.

“Is that King Gorvor?” I ask in a whisper.

Torren puts his hand on my lower back. “Aye. And that’s Dawn, his queen.”

I squint in the distance, expecting to find an orc woman on his right, but the queen is human, holding a chubby green-skinned baby in her lap.

“Oh.”

I lean closer to him to make way for a family with three teenage daughters, hurrying to take a spot at one of the tables. Torren lets out a pleased rumble, and I glance up at him, fighting a grin. He reminds me of a big cat as he rubs his cheek on top of my head affectionately, then delivers me to the table where Rose and Uram are already digging into their soup, along with Ivy and a handsome orc with a chipped tusk who must be her mate, Korr.

“Jasmine!” Ivy stands and squeezes me into a hug, then makes space for me on the bench. “It’s so good to see you.”

“So sorry,” Rose says as she picks up an empty bowl and ladles soup into it, “we didn’t know if you’d join us or not, so we started already.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, then look up at Torren, who’s still standing by my side. “Will you join us?”

He offers me a small smile. “Perhaps at dinner. I think Morg would like you all to himself now.”

He inclines his head to the side, and I follow his gaze to find Morg striding toward us, his expression intent. My first impulse is to ask them both to stay, but Torren wraps me in his arms and gives me a hearty squeeze, then lets go of me and bows in farewell.

A little dazed, I collapse on the bench next to Ivy, who snickers at my state.

“It gets easier with time,” she murmurs.

I blink at her slowly. “What does?”

“The overwhelm you feel when they’re near.” She pauses, then adds ruefully, “And the emptiness when they’re not.”

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