Page 29 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

“Don’t look so glum,” he says. “You’re welcome to stay, too.”

Chapter

Ten

We settle in for the night in silence, and I almost bow out several times, feeling the awkwardness of the moment. We take turns in the small bathroom alcove where I use the toilet and splash cold water on my face. I step back around the wall tapestry to find that Torren has bolted the door for the night and extinguished all but one low-burning lantern, casting the room in shadow. The large bed looms at the other side of the space, waiting for us.

“I can take you back to Ritta’s room,” Torren says, placing his warm hand on my lower back, “if you’d be more comfortable there?”

I shake my head. Despite my nerves, I don’t actually want to leave, and especially not after both orcs have agreed to stay here. This is what we need, I feel it deep in my body. But his suggestion does remind me of something.

“Will Ritta worry if I don’t return to her room?” I ask.

Morg steps forward, smiling down at me. “I met her in the great hall when I went to fetch our dinner. She told me she’d cut our balls off if we hurt you, so she knows where you are.” He tugs lightly on the ends of my unbound hair and adds, “She did say you’re meeting Mara in the morning to talk about your work here at the Hill.”

“That’s good,” I say, relieved. “I don’t want anyone to worry.”

Then there’s nothing more to do but crawl into bed. For a long moment, we all stand in front of it, staring at the pillows and covers. The silence builds between us, and my palms sweat. I have no idea how to do this, and a lump forms in my throat, making it harder and harder to breathe.

I wanted this to feel effortless, not stilted, and now I’m in danger of ruining it all with my indecision.

At last, Morg clears his throat and asks, “Which side of the bed is yours?”

Torren frowns at him. “Both are mine.”

Morg lets out a snort of laughter. “I know that. But where do you usually sleep?”

“Oh,” Torren says. “On the left.”

Morg nods, then toes off his leather boots and flops onto the right side of the bed. “There we go.” He punches a pillow and sticks it behind his head. “Aye, not bad. Come on, you two, it’s getting late.”

I actually have no idea whether that’s true because we’re deep underground, but I tentatively climb on the bed, sit on the edge to remove my boots, then join Morg.

Torren stands very still at the foot of the bed, staring at us.

“What is it?” I ask, worrying that he might not want Morg to stay here after all.

But the older orc shakes his head and says, “I never thought I’d say this, but you two look good in my bed.”

A flash of heat burns inside me, the feelings I experienced earlier with him flaring back to life. Beside me, Morg releases a long breath, and when I glance at him, his gaze is bright with want.

“Will you join us?” I ask Torren.

My hands tremble slightly as I dig my fingers into the blankets. It’s scandalous to think what I’m suggesting, but it doesn’t feel like it—I simply can’t imagine wanting anything else anymore.

Slowly, Torren undoes the laces of his boots and sets them neatly by the wall, then walks back to the bed. “Do you want me to leave the lantern burning?”

I think of how dark Ritta’s room was last night. “Is there a way to leave just the tiniest bit of light?”

Torren’s lips twitch up in a smile, but he does as I asked, shuttering the lantern so only the narrowest shaft of light shines through. Then he sits on the bed beside me and finally stretches out on his back, one arm tucked under his head.

I’m caught between them, their delicious scents wafting at me from each side. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, and my body relaxes with the knowledge that they’re both here with me.

“If I snore, just nudge me so I stop,” Torren says suddenly.

I pop my eyes open and grin at him. “All right.”

On the other side of me, Morg hums. “I didn’t even think of that. Aye, Jasmine, I hope you’re not a light sleeper, or it might take you a while to get used to sleeping with orcs.”

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