Page 45 of Lost to the Orcs

“I know it hurts. But, we cannae bury it forever. Mudslides happen. Even here.” He taps my head. “Especially here.” He taps my chest over my heart. “It wasnae something you could control. Nature is fickle. Changes often.” He sighs. And it is filled with so much pain, that I roll over to look into his beautiful face.

“What are you trying to say?” I ask, caressing his cheek with the palm of my hand.

Our eyes meet briefly, before he lays his head down and stares out the open doorway. “I wasnae around when Sumira conceived, you remember?”

“Yes, you said you were… scouting?”

“Half-lied.” My teeth grit and he smirks. “Another secret. Last. Promise.” He kisses the top of my head and does not meet my stare. “Shalk an’ I were scouting, but in friendly town. A tavern made good food. We ate, drank an’ woke in ‘he dark. Hands tied behind me. Neck tied t’ hands. Both bolted t’ ground. It was dark; ‘til she walked in.

“A pretty human.” His lips twist into a mockery of a smirk. It’s more of a sneer than anything else. “Red braids, tan skin. Dark blue eyes.” Whatever is inside me wants to snarl in jealousy. But I know this isn’t him describing this female because he loved her. Or even that he admired her looks. This is going to get ugly. Way ugly before it gets any better. “Said her Da took us. She would help. But needed time. I was no’ much younger than now. Less able t’ hide my arousal an’ she offered t’ ease me.” I swallow bile but he’s lost in the memory. His hand petting my hair, not to comfort me, it’s almost as if he’s trying to comfort himself.

“She learned what I liked. Took from me. Long after we knew was only her an’ no’ her Da. She would laugh when I protested. Would cackle as she did it. I stopped responding. She took from Shalk too ‘he same. Only, she liked t’ cut him. Slices. Chops. Ribbons and lines. Rivers o’ red. Stitched him up. Waited for him t’ heal one place. While she attacked another. After a while, she attacked him if I didnae respond how she wanted. Fed us an’ washed us off like an animal. I was near that in the end, I ken.

“It was breaking.

“I wasready. So ready. Said g’bye t’ Jae long ‘fore that day. Shalk sai’ sorry. I did no’ blame him. But we were broke. Pieces o’ us. An’ one woman did that.” He squeezes me closer, rubbing his hands along my hair, my arms, my belly before dropping another kiss on the top of my head. His eyes meet mine. The bleak pain in those golden eyes makes my heart clench like if it were gripped by a fist.

I want to choke out. NO. Don’t talk. I don’t want to hear. I don’t want to listen to the pain and anguish you suffered. The fact that you–you, my happy, loving, joking, flirty mate wanted to–to—I choke back a sob. No. I can’t stop this now. I need to hear it. But I don’t want to. I don’t want him to relive his suffering.

So, I clutch at him with all of my might. Hoping that I can somehow crawl into his skin, cuddle his heart and give him all of my warmth. For nothing about this tale is warm.

“She came that day with her favorite knife. Told me t’ choose. ‘Me or him.’ She said. I said him. She slit his throat, said I should have said her. Said t’ watch him die an’ I rot in her cellar. Later. For she had need o’ me.” I swallow more bile. I want to heave thinking of her and her ‘needs’. “She cut him free, dropped the knife. Told him ‘kill him if you wish’. An’ left. Shalk grabbed the knife an’ cut me free. Said ‘go’. I could no’. Put Pressure. Lots on his neck. I found needles, thread, an’ cloth. Sewed him an’ wrapped him.” But where was the woman?

“She came back as I finished. Screaming. I was no’ myself. Barely a wisp–a sligh’ ghost o’ myself. Migh’ no’ ‘ave lived. If Shalk did no’ attack first ‘fore fainting. We tussled. I do no’ remember all. But you couldnae recognize the demon. I remember her hate. Her screams. But I mostly remember the silence. I do no’ know how long I cried.

“Dragged Shalk t’ forest, burned ‘he tavern t’ ‘he ground. Took many moons but Shalk lived. He lost his arm from all her cuttings. But he lived. We left. No’ ‘he same as we came. She took from me. She took from Shalk more.”

“No.” I choke. “No. Don’t you dare minimize that! I understand what you’re saying, but you have every right–every damn right to feel like she stole from you. Shestolefrom you U’s. Just like Shalk. Shalk would not want you to make your loss any less than his own. Your life is not meaningless.You matter.” I feel the tears spilling down my cheeks like tiny little rivers. My mouth is forming that ugly sob while my nose scrunches in an attempt to meet my pinched brows.

“Ach, sweet mate. So do you.” He cradles my head in his arms. “I love you sunkissed.”

I love him too. But I’m ugly crying into his chest, beloved and dear and I’m unable to make a coherent sound. I kiss over his heart up his pectorals, his collarbone, throat. Jaw, chin and cheek. Until our eyes meet. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you suffered by the hands of another human being like that. I don’t know how you could love me when we are the same.”

“No. No, sunkissed. You are sunshine. Divine. Beauty. Sweetness. Kind. No’ ‘he same. Ne’er ‘he same. You ken my sweet sunkissed?” He kisses my forehead before our eyes meet with a harsh color to his yellow gaze. He is extremely serious.

“I just meant same species, handsome.”

“You are no’ her. She was vile an’ wretched. Bitter an’ bile. Ach?” I nod. Our foreheads touch, eyes too close I almost feel like going cross eyed. But the connection makes me breathe easier. For me. For him. For us. “I had no control. None. She did. She took an’ took an’ took. ‘Till I was nigh nothing. But I am here. Survived. Alive. Both I an’ Shalk. Just like you.”

My lip wobbles. Just like me. Tears spilling silently. Not ugly crying. Just crying. I feel a warmth at my back. Another set of hands caress me gently.

Before I can open my mouth and tense, Jaedason murmurs softly, “Narod. Arawn is with Narod.”

With all my fears reassured, I sob. Big great sobs as I hiccough through the account. The bitterness. The bile. At one point I can feel the sludge sliding down my throat, feel like I’m drowning again. But then they take charge. Center me with kisses, caresses. Love. Until I can speak again.

When I finish, it’s like a weight, heavy and cold like mud, lifts from my chest. For the first time in weeks, I sleep like the dead.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: PUNISHMENT

Jaedason

It takes much persuasion t’ get my mate in a mood where she would willingly give ouer son t’ Narod. Thankfully, after ouer conversation ‘he other day, it is easier t’ speak with her about these things. About letting Narod take ouer kit. About taking a moment for us.

Lying in bed, Ay kiss her arm as she’s seated, lost in her mind. Haugen, an Orc like Irf but only in that he has some kind o’ magic. Science, my mate calls it. Is enough t’ see if someone needs more care o’ no’. But they cannae take away pain, o’ bring you t’ another world. Ay watch him with lazy eyes. Watch my mate. Waiting.

“She is well.” Haugen states after checking her pulse. “Orc spend is safe for the kit, if you worried. It can help with pain and ease the birth. So I donnae see any reason t’ stop you if you would like t’ continue sexual activities.”

Ay smirk at my mates flushed skin an’ ‘he press o’ her lips t’ stop ‘he gasp. “Ay’ll keep that in mind. An’ punishment?” Ay ask while wrapping my arms around my mates waist an’ pulling her t’ me. Her head jerks t’wards me, eyes narrowed with ire.

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