Page 8 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

“Can you hold him?” Sarrai asks Uram.

But before the other male can answer, Morg grumbles, “I’ll behave. You don’t need to hold me back.”

On the other side, Torren promises the same, and both males are let go. Torren rolls his neck, then takes his nose between his palms and snaps it into place with an audible crunch. I wince at the thought of his pain, even though he doesn’t make a sound.

He doesn’t move, but he regards me with clear want—and anguish. I don’t know how strongly he feels about this mate thing, but it seems to be affecting him quite a bit. I’m not sure I like it if it turns orcs into madmen.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he promises me, his voice low. “Sleep well, Jasmine.”

The sound of my name has me shivering. What is this? And how does he even know my name? Then I remember Ritta mentioned it when she decided what to do with us all.

“Jasmine.” Morg’s voice sounds dreamy. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Oh gods.” Sarrai takes me by my arm and tugs me toward the tunnel leading to the baths. “If I ever find my mate, I hope I don’t turn into a simpering idiot like these two.”

With that, we round the corner, and the two orc males disappear from view. My stomach swoops uncomfortably, and I stumble a little. Sarrai’s grip keeps me walking forward. Behind us, Rose and Ritta hurry down the corridor as well, their footsteps scuffing lightly.

“You’re not going back there tonight,” Sarrai says suddenly, her grip tensing.

I blink at her. “What?”

That’s how I realize I’ve almost stopped and she’s all but dragging me along.

“You have to give them time to process this.” Rose loops her arm though my free one.

I purse my lips. “Is that what you did with Uram?”

She blushes, her pretty face turning pink. “Uh, not exactly. But our situation was different. He, ah, needed to keep me warm overnight, which is the only reason I allowed him anywhere near me.”

Ritta snickers from behind us. “Oh, of course.”

Rose sends her a dirty glare, but she’s grinning. “All right, so maybe it wasn’t all for survival’s sake. But you don’t need to make that decision tonight, Jasmine. Like Ritta said, we’ll get you settled for the night and you can have a good rest.”

We turn a corner, and another small signpost appears, pointing us toward the baths.

“We had these installed after Ivy got lost one too many times,” Rose tells me, “and landed herself in the dungeons.”

“There are dungeons?”

The great hall looked so inviting, it’s hard to imagine this place could hold a prison at the same time.

“Don’t worry,” Ritta says. “We never use them.”

“Almost never,” Sarrai mutters.

They’re not doing a good job of comforting me, and I think they know it. The women speed up, marching down the corridors at a fast clip. I don’t notice the air getting warmer until a bead of sweat runs down my forehead, and I have to pull my arm from Rose’s grip to swipe it away.

“What is this place?” I ask, breathing in the humid air.

“We’re nearly there,” Rose says. “Then you’ll be able to relax.”

I want to protest that this is no time for relaxation—I’ve somehow managed to upend the order in the Hill within an hour of my arrival. I’m worried that the king will decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth and toss me out on my ear.

Before I can say anything, the narrow, humid corridor dumps us into another chamber, only this one is completely different from the great hall. The ceiling is much lower, for one, but it’s the quality of the air that’s the most startling. A low mist covers the floor, so thick I can barely see through it. Voices echo from it, proving that we’re not the only visitors here.

“Welcome to the baths,” Sarrai says, satisfaction clear in her voice.

From a rack of shelves by the wall, she picks up two bathing sheets and thrusts one at me. Then she strides right into the fog, which swallows her completely within a couple of steps.

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