Page 4 of His Orc Lady

“Ozork?” I call as I step from the corridor and squint into the mist. “Are you here?”

I hurry forward, hoping I haven’t missed them. If they’ve already gone into one of the pools, I won’t go searching for them—I don’t want to interrupt Ozork taking a bath with a woman, whoever she may be.

Two figures materialize from the mist. I recognize Ozork immediately, his bulky form towering over what seems to be a human woman, sitting on a bench, wrapped in a damp winter cloak and clutching a bathing sheet. She must be several yearsolder than me, though I can’t be sure if she always looks this…bedraggled.

Her hair hangs limp at the sides of her face, her shoulders are hunched, and her nose and cheeks are red, though the rest of her face is alarmingly pale. She’s holding herself as if everything hurts.

“What’s going on?” I ask Ozork. “Uram came to fetch me but only said you’d taken a woman to the baths.”

The woman pushes herself to her feet, swaying slightly. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.” She glances up at Ozork and adds, “Your friend here thought I was too chilled and decided to carry me to the baths to warm up. I’m sorry we bothered you.”

Her voice is croaky and rougher than any of the other human women’s. I stare at her, concern rising as I put together the shaking, the unhealthy color, and the way she winces every time she moves her hands. Then I glance at Ozork, who hovers anxiously beside her, his hand twitching as if he’s having to physically restrain himself.

He looks…stricken. He’s worried about this woman, and it goes beyond the usual care any of us would afford a creature as poorly as this.

“You carried her all the way?” I ask, wary of saying too much.

He dips his head, and his expression softens, fragile hope shining through. I grip his arm, squeezing quickly, then turn to the strange woman.

“I’m sorry for the confusion. Welcome to the Hill. I’m Mara, and I’m the steward,” I tell her. “It’s a good thing Uram came to get me. I’ll explain everything to you…”

I trail off, waiting for her to tell me her name. She blinks at me for a long moment, as if her thoughts are still sluggish from the cold, then straightens her shoulders with visible effort.

“Willow,” she croaks. “I’m the Duke of Ultrup’s niece. And his ambassador. I’ve come to meet your king.”

I glance at Ozork, but he’s staring at the woman, mouthing her name. I swallow my grin—the poor male seems completely besotted already. She looks up at him, and it’s incredible to watch her react to him so quickly.

Thisis how a meeting between fated mates should go. She’s wary, yes, but something pulls her in, and he already knows he’ll never leave her again.

In comparison, it’s clear why I’ve been doomed from the start. There’s magic here, old magic tying the two of them together, and I know it’s only a matter of time before they join the other happy couples at the Hill.

In my case, the Fates must have made the wrong choice after all. If I was able to run away from the man who was supposed to be my fated match, and if he could leave forever, then we just weren’t right for each other.

I can only hope I’ll find someone else someday—that this doesn’t mean I’ve used up my one chance of finding a mate for life.

The woman—Willow—rubs her cheek and winces. “I’m aware we’ve arrived too late to meet the king. And I’d love a bath. But I have to speak to the captain of my guard.” She peers into the mist, past my shoulder. “He went to fetch my cat, you see, and I think he might have gotten lost in the tunnels.”

It takes me a moment to understand the meaning of her words. My mind gets stuck on them, repeating them over and over, because surely…

“The captain?” I choke out.

Ozork, the traitorous ass,chucklesat my discomfort. “Finally.”

Damn it. Ozork was there. I’d forgotten all about that. The only bright memory from that day, from the parlor, is thecaptain’s face, his golden hair shining bright, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the mess I’d made. But Ozork witnessed the catastrophe, as did Gorvor, Dawn, Marut, and his mate, Violet.

The Duke of Ultrup’s niece looks from me to Ozork and back, then smiles, her tired expression lighting up. “Of course, you’ve met him. And these fine men, I suppose.”

I swivel on my heels to follow her gaze and notice two human soldiers, standing at attention not far from us. They’ve been almost completely obscured by the mist, that’s true, but if I could have missed them so easily, I might have missed the captain as well. And I donotwant to meet the man who’s been causing such havoc in my life—all while he was hundreds of miles away.

“Ah, yes,” I blurt, hands shaking from a sudden panic. “Gentlemen, you must try the baths. Ozork, I’ll take Willow to the other end, and after, I’ll see her settled in one of the guest rooms. Will you…?”

Footsteps. Footsteps echo in the corridor, getting louder, and that can only mean one thing.

I’ve run out of time.

Chapter

Two

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