Page 14 of Bewitching the Orc Chief

Her chin lifted as she strode into the firelight. “If you’re going to talk about me, you can talktome.”

My brother shot me an apologetic look, but I barely noticed. All my attention focused on Miranda—the set of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders, the way her fists clenched at her sides. Gorgeous and furious andmine.

“How dare you enter this sacred space!” Alris’s outrage bounced off the stone walls.

Miranda didn’t flinch. She planted her feet and crossed her arms, meeting his glare with one of her own.

Then Alris inhaled sharply through his nose, and his face twisted with recognition. “Witch.”

The word reverberated through the room. Coth glowered. Behind her, Torain visibly paled and stepped back as though burned. But Miranda stayed where she was, still glaring daggers at the shaman.

“Dark magic taints her very blood.” Alris’s grip on his staff whitened his knuckles, the wood creaking under his fury. “I can smell the corruption on her!”

“You’re wrong.” The words burst from my throat before I could stop them. My mate wasn’t... couldn’t be... “Miranda would never?—”

“It’s true.”

Miranda’s quiet voice cut through the chaos like a blade. An angry red flush spread across her cheeks as every eye in the room snapped to her.

“I practiced dark magic.” Her voice stayed steady, but I saw the tremor in her hands. “I left that life behind.”

The ground lurched beneath my feet. Dark magic. My mate... a dark witch? The kind who trafficked with demons and stole souls? Who twisted and destroyed everything they touched?

No. I refused to believe it. There had to be more to the story.

“You see?” Uncle Coth’s smugness grated against my nerves. “She’s already lying to you.”

“I never lied.” Miranda’s eyes found mine, pleading for understanding. “I just... didn’t tell the whole truth.”

But the signs were there. Had always been there. The herbs hanging in her kitchen and the books in her living room. Were the beauty products she created truly natural, or did she add magic to the potions? And that unnaturally deep slumber, as if her soul had departed her body…

“Dark magic isn’t something you simply walk away from, girl. It marks you.Changesyou.” Alris circled her like a predator sizing up wounded prey. “Tell me, witch, what brought you to our territory? What evil do you plot?”

“You know nothing about my soul. Or what I’ve survived to get here.” Steely words stabbed for the shaman, but her eyes never left mine. “I came here to start over. That’s all.”

The raw honesty in her voice twisted something in my chest. Could I have misunderstood her intentions so badly? But if she meant no harm, why conceal her identity? Why hide what she was?

“And bewitch our chief in the process?” Coth’s lip curled into a sneer. “How convenient.”

“Bewitch him?” Miranda scoffed, finally breaking eye contact. “Are you kidding me? I’m not even here willingly!”

“What else explains this madness?” The shaman’s eyes blazed with a zealot’s fervor as he addressed me, “You vanish into town and return with this creature, claiming mate bonds and divine blessing?”

Coth snickered. “Too busy thinking with his?—”

“Enough!” Power thrummed through my voice, making both men start. “You will show respect to your chief.”

“Our chief cannot allow dark magic within our borders.” Alris’s cold eyes fixed on me. “Surely you see that?”

My hands curled into fists. The urge to break his jaw warred with the cold dread pooling in my gut. Dark magic. The most forbidden of arts. The stories of corruption and destruction were carved into these very walls. Even regular witchcraft was viewed with suspicion, but this...

“Don’t worry,” Miranda snapped. “I promise not to overstay my welcome in your precious village.”

She spun toward the entrance, but Uncle Coth moved faster. He planted himself between her and escape, lips curling cruelly around his tusks.

“Shaman.” He didn’t even look at me as he addressed Alris. “Surely you won’t allow an admitted witch to wander freely among our people?”

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth creaked. I was chief, damn it. Not Alris. Not my uncle.Me. But they’d maneuvered the situation perfectly. If I defended Miranda too strongly now, I’d look bewitched. If I failed to contain the “threat,” I’d look weak.

---