Page 15 of Daghel

My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as I sluggishly awaken, so much so that the last thing I want to do is wake up, especially since I’ve never been quite so toasty warm in my life. It is so luxurious that I could almost ignore anything except that my hand hurts like a bitch. There isn’t the pull of stitches as I’ve had back-alley butchers piece me back together in my youth. Rather, it is just the deep echo of pain that follows after a legitimate healer has done their work. I haven’t had the occasion to experience it often—as it is an expense that I’ve been careful to avoid—but I recognize it and I flex my hand experimentally as I push myself up to a seated position and peer around the enormous, if empty, bedroom.

Enormous is really an inadequate word,I decide within seconds of perusing my surroundings.

The bed isn’t even what I would properly consider a bed, but a heavily padded platform that stretches from one side of the room to the other. It is so large that it could probably comfortably fit a family of fifteen and several additional people if they wanted to lie in the excess space at the foot of the bed. Theroom boasts plenty of unrealized sitting space and an impressive hearth besides the bed filling half of it.

Its shocking size aside, there are also the barebones of luxury apparent despite the emptiness of the room. The very dusty but very richly upholstered chair in one corner speaks of it even if there is nothing else in the room except me and the excessively large mound of furs taking up most of the bed. It all strikes me as so unimaginable—like something directly from the pages of a fairy tale—that I cannot even begin to guess where the hell I am.

Common sense says to stay put until someone arrives to give me answers, but the suspicious, paranoid side of me is louder and meaner and demands that I hunt down my abductor and corner him until he returns me home. Except… what home?

The thought gives me pause. By now, any casualties and missing people from the train attack will have likely spread far and wide by telegram. If David hasn’t received word of it already, then he undoubtedly will soon. If he is anything like most men—and the odds certainly weigh against me—he won’t be the least bit inclined to take on what everyone will see as an orc’s castoff. I almost want to laugh at the miserable fact that the bad reputation I worked so hard to outrun will simply be replaced by another of equally damnable disrepute.

Well… fuck.I drum my fingers on the bed in frustration. It is an impossible situation, one I can’t outmaneuver with the usual tricks. Which means trying something entirely unexpected and new. I draw in a deep breath and slowly exhale as I allow the shift in momentum settle within me, and a new plan surfaces within my mind, bringing a smile to my face.

No problem. Change of plans then. Hunt down one pale orc who thought he would steal himself a woman, and make sure he follows through with properly taking care of me now that he’s got me. Because one thing is for certain: I’m not going to take my chances out there in the world now that I have nothing. Evenmy paltry pocket money was left behind in the train within my damned valise—not that it would have gotten me very far if I had to start over somewhere.

In short, the orc is stuck with me, and he needs to know exactly what sort of standards I expect. Poor male. I suppose I should feel sorry for him—except I don’t possess even an ounce of sympathy for the scoundrel. At least he came close to making mincemeat out of the nasty male… what’s his name… Kael. That at least is encouraging, though he may not feel so protective when he realizes what all goes into my general upkeep to maintain my basic comforts. Comforts that I also demanded when submitting my application to the agency as a mail-order bride.

I’m certainly not going to be any easier on this Daghel.

Snickering quietly to myself, I crawl to the edge of the bed and drop off its side. I glance back at it as I straighten and peer at it in wonder. Aside from being quite large, it is also exceedingly tall. I won’t be getting back into it without help.

I wonder whose bed it is, anyway. I purse my lips thoughtfully, considering the matter as I stride across the room. I can’t imagine any scenario where one would need that much space to sleep comfortably. At least the room is pleasantly warm, even if the stone floors are far too chilly beneath my feet. I will have to request some basic slippers if I’m going to be living in this icy village. I don’t relish the thought of my feet becoming frozen lumps.

I’m nearly at the door when it swings open, and a woman walks in with a tray and nearly collides with me. Though she wears a scarf folded and pinned neatly over her straw-colored hair, there is an air of purpose to her that comes to a crashing halt the moment she catches sight of me and stumbles. The tray tips, its contents sliding rapidly to one end in a prelude to the coming disaster. I rush forward and catch the falling end of thetray, stabilizing it even as she lets out a squeal of dismay. Her breath catches, her eyes rounding in horror as she releases the side I’m supporting to slap her hand over her mouth. I stare at her curiously but gently pry the tray from her hands before any other incidents can occur and carry it over to the small table by the chair that—unlike much of the room—at least appears to have been recently wiped down.

“Relax,” I call back to her and curiously study the contents of the tray. Looks like some sort of medicinal balm in a small pot and a bowl of bone broth. Huh. She must be the one taking care of me. “Nothing spilled. You don’t have to worry about being scolded or having a mess to clean up.”

“T-that’s not what I-I’m w-worried about,” she rambles nervously.

“Hmm?” I frown in confusion and turn toward her as I straighten. “What has you so jumpy then?”

A loud sound like the exhalation of an enormous monster blows through the room, stirring the tiny hairs on the back of my neck, and I freeze as the young woman’s hand comes up to point at the bed.

“T-t-that,” she stammers.

Dread coils deep within my belly as I slowly turn toward the bed I just vacated. The furs bulge upward in a mound that comes close to touching the ceiling before they drop away from sapphire scales, the sight of which makes my mouth go dry with terror. No wonder I was so toasty warm. Hell, no wonder the room itself is far warmer than the fire alone could account for! I was snuggled up with a damned wyvern!

A blood-curdling scream rends the air and I’m not entirely proud of the fact that it came from me. I don’t particularly care at this moment either, however, as my entire focus has narrowed down to putting as much distance between me and that monster as possible. I backpedal so abruptly that I don’t notice that thegirl had hurried to me until we collide and drop like a pair of stones. Unfortunately, my view from the floor gives me an even more terrible view as the wyvern’s neck snakes and its massive jaw opens wide in a yawn that reveals a tapered red tongue and numerous dagger-like teeth amid a small puff of smoke and lick of flames that makes me feel positively faint to look at.

Amber eyes open as his neck curls, drawing his head around to look directly at me. Even though I feel no pride in it, I welcome the darkness that descends over me as I feel the urge to faint right there on the floor. My last cognizant thought is less than inspiring—at least I don’t have far to fall seconds before my head hits the damnable stone floor.

Chapter

Ten

DRISK

Iblink at my special human, torn between conflicting emotions as concern wars with a foreign sensation of what I can only imagine is mirth. I have felt it a few times throughout the endless passing of ages of my existence, but it has been too infrequent and shadowed by much misery that I barely recognize it. Keeping my wings pinned tightly along my arms and sides, I rise from the bed and prowl to the floor, my gaze focused on my female as the healer wiggles out from beneath her prone form and flies out the door. Disdain fills me that this Gwen found it so easy to abandon my human, but I cannot fault her too much given that she merely left her in my care.

After all, my female will never be in danger while she is in my care. In fact, there is no safer place than beneath my wing. If any male had dared to do as Kael had done, I would have eaten him on the spot before Daghel had a chance to return. Now that I think on it, I probably should eat the healer too for just abandoning my mate on the floor, but I do not wish to leave her side to chase the silly female through the palace.

A lick of flame springs from my mouth and snuffs out in the air as I stare at the door with disgust. The healer’s fear still sours the air, and I can taste its essence as she flees down the hall.

My pointed ears perk at the distant sound of heavy footfall, and Daghel’s welcome scent fills my nose. I dislike the palace. There are too many scents mixed together, many of which do not belong lurking so close to our rookery. They are intrusive and unwelcome, and yet still these orcs persist. The disrespect makes my lips pull back from my teeth. In the depths of the Cold Mountains, it would not have been tolerated. It would never have happened before.

I grumble quietly to myself as I fold my arms and legs beneath me, taking care not to pinch a wing as I settle around my mate, warming her and chasing the chill from the cold stone floor. I would keep an eternal ember burning within the stones, but with the condition of the palace, there is a good chance that the fire would rush through the stonework, setting everything within ablaze. Not a great loss but Daghel would disapprove. His opinion is the only one that matters, forheis the only reason for my purpose here. His birth awakened me, and I searched the mountains for years until I finally caught his scent and felt the familiar tightening in my loins that roared with lust and adoration through me.

Surprisingly, it is the same feeling that I felt when I caught her scent.

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