Page 18 of The Orc's Bride

Urgan knew with all certainty that humans, even though physically weaker, where much smarter than most orcs.

Tokoma hadn’t paid enough for their crimes. Would it be possible to undo the damage they had done?

Blast it all. He knew an orc male could damage a human female if he were inconsiderate. If he lied on top of her… she would be crushed and could even suffocate. And if he mated with her without waiting for her to become aroused, he could hurt her, too.

But Urgan also knew there were ways of making the mating safe. And very pleasant for both parties.

How was he supposed to quell Una’s fears when they were smack in the middle of a ragghit infestation?

Una watched him, her face now pale, her eyes huge and tearful. She was shaking, her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection.

Urgan had no doubts she was telling the truth.

She was also hurting. Very much. Now, he could see it clearly: there had been much suffering in her life because of orcs. Because of his kind.

But he was not the one who had hurt her. He would not act apologetically on behalf of the weak, stupid orcs who couldn’t hold their instincts in check.

With one step, Urgan was in front of her, so close their bodies were touching. Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her, folding himself over her protectively. He stroked the back of her head with two fingers, gently. Her hair was smooth and soft.

Una sobbed once, her body shaking even harder. It seemed to Urgan she couldn’t decide whether to run or let him comfort her. Then, with another wet sob, she melted into him, her balled fists pressing into his abdomen. She cried while Urgan expanded his senses, listening for danger. Protecting her in her moment of vulnerability.

“Now,” he said when a minute had passed. “We must go.”

He stepped back and looked at her face. It was red and puffy from crying, and wet with tears. The mask was off. This was the real Una.

Urgan had never seen a lovelier sight.

He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, his movements slow and careful.

“They will be punished if they are still alive,” he told her seriously. “In the Imperator’s land, the punishment for killing an innocent, be it an orc or a human, is death.”

Una gave him a hard look.

“No need to punish. They dead. All orcs who rape my mother dead.”

Urgan was intrigued by the ferocious intensity in her voice.

“How did they die?” he asked, already suspecting the truth.

Una stared at him for a moment, her brown eyes alight with hatred.

“I kill them. When they feast in our village, I bring them drink. Poison with belladonna. Everyone think they just drunk and only later realize they dead. Other orcs say stupid Zorrak, stupid Fuhdra, they suffocate on own vomit when drunk. No one suspect me.”

Urgan frowned, approval and displeasure warring inside him.

“You were within your rights to avenge your mother. It’s one of the most important laws.” He paused, giving her a hard look.

“But you did it without honor.”

Una laughed derisively.

“What would be with honor? You say I must come up to them and say, you killed my mother, now we fight?” Her laughter turned into a bitter cackle. “How I even stand a chance in fight with orc, Urgan? You say I must die to have honor? Because I prefer living.”

His frown deepened. There was undeniable logic in her words, and he had to admit she was right in the most factual sense. The law allowing revenge for one’s murdered kin was an orc law. It hadn’t been written with humans in mind. And maybe one day, it could be adjusted to allow for the humans’ disadvantage in battle.

But for now, it was as it was: a revenge could only be honorable if it were a duel. Using poison was the cowardly way.

As a military man, Urgan valued honor above all else.

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