Page 3 of The Orc's Wife

I bit down on a bitter smile, remembering my father’s opinion on books. He had believed reading and writing was a pastime suitable for men only, and women had no business learning letters. My mother had taught me in secret. And she’d kept her few recipe books and fairy tale volumes on the bottom of her sewing basket, where my father would never look.

Both of them were dead now, killed by orcs, but their ghosts had followed me into Dogar Val.

We approached the gate in the wall surrounding the palace hill. Four orcs were standing guard, their armor shiny in the sunlight. Seeing Urgan, they hit their chests with their fists in unison, giving him the orc salute.

They stepped to the sides, and we rode inside. Grikh saluted Urgan with his fist and rode away. We were on our own now.

“Don’t say anything important until I’ve checked our rooms,” Urgan murmured into my ear, his hand squeezing my waist.

We got off the dragon horse, Urgan effortlessly lifting me from the saddle, and a few human men approached to lead the horse away. They barely glanced at me, quickly averting their eyes. Urgan paid them no attention. He took my hand and led me up the gentle slope paved with gray and white stones.

We passed the orc-made outer buildings, humans in simple linen clothes and orcs in armor and leathers milling around. The orcs saluted Urgan, the humans bowed or dropped to their knees. I caught a few curious looks cast in my direction, but none lingered. One woman looked at me with pity, shaking her head, before she, too, averted her eyes.

I wiped the frown off my face and smoothed my forehead. I was the general’s mate, walking by his side. I needed to act like it.

We walked and walked, climbing higher, closer to the palace gates. In my village, I used to work hard in my garden and in the fields, so I was healthy and strong. But still, the long walk left me winded and sweaty.

I looked up at Urgan, about to ask him if we could slow down, but his face was hard, his jaw set. His fingers wrapped around my hand twitched once, and I knew: something was coming. Something that was making him furious.

We were now close to the palace doors, which were twice as tall as me and made of beautifully carved dark wood. Without warning, they were thrown open, and the two orc guards standing watch stepped aside.

Inside the dark portal, framed by the graceful curve of the door frame, stood an orc female. I had never seen one up close – in our village, Tokoma orcs had kept their females hidden away from human sight.

She was standing on top of the wide stairs, taller and stronger than me, but her muscles were leaner than Urgan’s, and she was a head shorter than him. Her black hair fell around her moss-green face in a waterfall of thin braids, the pointy tips of her ears peaking from between them. Sharp white fangs gleamed behind her full lips, and her glistening dark eyes were lined with black.

She was wearing a burgundy red shirt under a leather vest tightly hugging her curves, with a leather skirt reaching just past her knees. On her feet, she was wearing leather sandals, tied around her ankles in a crisscross of leather strings. She was beautiful, a green goddess, feminine yet strong.

Only her expression spoiled the effect.

When she had emerged from the dusky interior of the palace, she had been smiling, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. Now, that smile morphed into an expression of shock and disgust.

“Urzulah,” Urgan said with barely a nod.

My heart hammered in my chest. So this was… her? The orc princess that had tried to use Urgan when he was younger, and now was trying to claim him as her mate? Urgan had spoken of her with such contempt that I had never suspected she could be so utterly striking and graceful.

“General,” she said, her voice deep and sultry. My palms were starting to sweat. All the hasty protocol lessons Urgan and Grikh had crammed into my head disappeared, and I was left a gaping fool, not a thought left in my mind. I had no idea how I should act.

So, I just straightened my spine and raised my head high, hoping for the best.

Urzulah’s eyes fell on me, and unlike the other inhabitants of Dogar Val, she stared. And stared harder… at my collarbone, were Urgan’s mating mark was etched in my skin.

I forced myself not to flinch when she bared her fangs at me.

“This is my mate,” Urgan said, his voice cool and detached.

Urzulah whipped to him, her eyes blazing, her mouth twisted in a snarl.

“You took thisfilthfor your mate? How is this possible when you… When I… Did someone hit you on the head, general?”

Urgan’s lip curved in a mirthless smile. He was showing her his teeth without overtly threatening her. I pressed my knees together to keep my legs from shaking, thankful for the long dress that was hiding my weakness. I desperately thought of anything witty I could say in answer to her insult, but to no avail.

The awareness that I still couldn’t speak the orc language fluently was making me tongue-tied.

Thankfully, Urgan didn’t give me a chance to speak.

“No. We are headed for my rooms. Excuse us.”

Urzulah didn’t move. She turned to me, her eyes measuring, her lip curled in distaste. Suddenly, she jumped down the steps stopping mere inches from me, her fangs on full display, her face twisted, a low growl reverberating in her throat.

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