Page 13 of Bewitching the Orc Chief

My brother nodded once, subtle but clear. Message received. At least someone on this cursed mountain still had my back.

Miranda’s lips parted, probably to argue, but Torain smoothly inserted himself between us. “Come on. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Osen’s barrel-aged ale. Vanin—do you know Vanin?—will insist he taught us everything he knows, but I’m convinced he moved to Silvermist to avoid the competition.”

She cast one last glance over her shoulder, brows knitting together and lips pursing in that way that made me want to kiss the worry from her face. But she let my brother chatter on as he led her away.

Forcing my spine straight, I marched toward the clan’s sacred cave. That acid continued to burn in my stomach, but I refused to let it show. Showing weakness wasn’t an option—not with vultures circling, waiting for any sign of doubt.

The darkness swallowed me whole before spitting me into the inner chamber. The air hung thick with incense and old magic. Ancient carvings spiraled up toward the ceiling—stories of our people, preserved in eternal stone. Normally, their presence settled something in my soul. Today, they felt like accusers.

Alris stood with his back to the ceremonial fire, hands clasped behind his robes. Uncle Coth lounged against a stone column, lips curled in that familiar mocking smile that made me want to rearrange his teeth.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Alris didn’t bother turning around. “A human? Here?”

“My mate.” The words came out as a growl. “The gods themselves chose her for me.”

“The gods?” Now he did turn, eyes flashing. “You dare invoke them? After bringing that... thatcreatureinto our midst without even seeking counsel?”

“I felt the bond snap into place.” I planted my feet wider, refusing to be cowed. “You taught me yourself that mate bonds are sacred gifts.”

“Between proper matches.” He jabbed a finger at my chest. “Between orcs who understand our ways and our traditions. Not some human bitch you found in a tavern.”

Some human b—? Fury coiled hot in my chest, battling against common sense. He would eat those words. He wouldconsume and shit and then consume again every disparaging thought that budded in his decrepit mind.

“She is my mate.” I forced the words past gritted teeth. “I seek your blessing for our handfasting.”

Alris barked a laugh. “You’ll have no blessing from me for such a union. Besides,” his thin lips curled into a smug smirk, “I’ve already arranged an alliance with the Storm Peak clan. Their chief’s daughter will make a proper mate. One I would gladly bless.”

Rage fought shock in my system. Sothatwas the emergency that called Alris away? The sheer disrespect… To make secretive alliances without my knowledge? With someone I’d never shared a meal or a word?

“I do not want their chief’s daughter.” I bit the words off sharply. “I want Miranda.”

“Think of the clan.” Uncle Coth finally spoke up, pushing off the column. “We need strong blood. Pure blood. Can your little human even bear proper orc children? Or will she bleed out if she tries?”

The question hit like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t even considered... The image of Miranda round with my child flashed through my mind, followed quickly by doubt. Could a human carry an orc child to term? Would such a pregnancy even be possible?

It didn’t matter. We would be blessed, or we wouldn’t. Either way, I refused to walk this path without her.

“I don’t need an heir.” I lifted my chin. “I have a brother.”

Coth’s laugh held no humor. “The gentle one? He can barely stomach a proper hunt, much less lead a clan. Face facts, nephew.” He stepped closer, voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “Your father’s death should have taught you the price of defying tradition.”

Red clouded my vision. My fist connected with stone before I realized I’d moved, sending chips flying. Pain lanced up my arm, but I welcomed it. Better than the rage threatening to tear me apart.

“My father,” I snarled at my uncle, “was twice the orc you’ll ever be.”

“Your father was a fool!” Alris spat. “A fool to let the human authorities take one of our own for judgment. Now you allow their kind within our borders? Where does it end?”

The old argument rose like bile in my throat. “That warrior murdered an innocent man!”

“He defended our territory!” Coth roared. “As we have done for generations!”

“From a hiker with a map and a walking stick?” I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building in my chest.

My words still hung in the air when footsteps echoed from the cave entrance.

Soft footsteps, the brush of fabric, and that intoxicating scent of rosemary and citrus. Followed by Torain’s panicked whisper, “You can’t go in there!”

Miranda.

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