Page 37 of His Orc Lady

But one thing is true—I don’t know Owen either, and yet I would vouch for his character in front of the king. The question is whether this is some deep-seated instinct that allows me to read my fated mate so well or perhaps a complete blindness to his faults because of what he is to me.

“What is your answer, then?” I demand. “If you’re not fighting for the duke?”

Owen’s straight eyebrows snap together at my tone. “I keep thinking I’m fighting foryou, Mara, but there’s something that doesn’t sit right with me.” He picks up my undershirt and shakes it out, then offers it to me. “So perhaps we do need to talk. Tonight, rather than tomorrow.”

I swallow thickly, my throat closing up. “Aye, I suppose you’re right.” I take the garment from him and draw the linen shift over my head. “But…it might take me a while. To tell the whole story, I mean.”

He takes his tunic from the pile of clothes we’d discarded earlier and puts it on, lacing it at the front. “I’ll listen. I’ll always listen, just as long as you let me in.”

Chapter

Ten

Owen climbs up the bed, and I hold the blanket so he can slip under the covers with me. I don’t fight him when he puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his side. Why would I? There’s no going back now, and I might as well soak in as much of his presence as possible before duty—or his decisions—pull him away from me.

I glance up to find him watching me closely, his blue eyes calm, his attention all on me. Then I draw in a deep inhale, filling my senses with his scent, and it soothes me like nothing else before.

“For you to understand why I am the way I am, I’ll have to take you back a while,” I whisper. “There’s no quick way to explain it.”

Owen kisses my temple, his lips warm against my skin. “All right.”

My hands tremble in my lap, so I clench them together, but Owen covers them with his larger hand and squeezes my fingers.

“Whatever you tell me, I’ll still be here after,” he says, his voice level.

I glance up at him again, my eyes already welling with tears. “Aye, but you’ll leave in the end.”

He draws in a deep breath. “Is that what’s bothering you? You think I’ll leave for the duchy with my men and never return?”

I understand what he’s really asking—is this why I’ve been acting so strange, pushing him away even though I’m clearly mad about him?

I dip my chin in the tiniest nod. “I didn’t want…” My voice hitches, not breaking exactly, yet still betraying my emotions. But I soldier on, determined to get this out once and for all. “I didn’t want to get attached to you, only to lose you after a few weeks.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I understand the sensation. So, what changed?” He motions between us. “Why did you decide to…?”

“To let you lick my pussy when I could barely look at you over the past days?” I can’t help but grin as his cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “I suppose I couldn’t find another reason to push you away.”

He pauses, thinking this through. “That means you were actively searching for them, correct? For reasons to push me away?” At my nod, he adds, “Why, Mara?”

I interlace my fingers with his, needing the comfort. If he decides to leave after, I will know, at least, that I finally gathered the courage to tell the truth.

“My father always wanted a son,” I begin.

Owen’s eyebrows climb up, so I nudge him lightly in the ribs with my elbow.

“I did tell you this might be long.”

He inclines his head. “I’m not complaining, just surprised that this is where your story starts.”

“Aye, well, you said you don’t know much about orcs, and you need to understand…things about my people before we get tous,” I tell him. “So. My father always wanted a son, and I was the only child my mother ever bore for him.”

I snuggle closer to Owen, inhaling his scent and luxuriating in the warmth radiating from his body. Then I take a deep breath and continue.

“I don’t remember much of my early childhood, but I do know there was a time each month when my mother took to her bed, weeping. Only later, when I got older, I realized that she was lamenting the fact that she got her monthly courses.”

Owen’s hand clenches ever so slightly around mine. When I glance up at him, he’s pink in the face again, but he shakes his head lightly as if to ask me to disregard his reaction.

“Well, since my father was left with me instead of a strapping young lad, he tried to mold me into the warrior he thought I should be.” At this, I pause and grimace. “If you visited the training rings here at the Hill, you might have met Orsha, Ozork’s sister.”

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