Page 16 of Daghel

I did not anticipate this little female, however, though I welcomed the idea of Daghel choosing a mate. Although I saw generations of orcs mate and give rise to new ones, I never seriously considered what it would mean to have a mate of my own until I scented Daghel’s loneliness. It puzzled me at first—why would he be lonely when he had me here? But I watched the interactions of orcs with their mates, and while there were a few males I barely restrained myself from eviscerating, I slowly cameto understand exactly what he needed. Her scent, however, was unanticipated. It nearly broke me as a wild need to cage her and lock her to me as I breed her consumed me.

I blink down at her with amusement, curling my tail protectively around her. Judging by her reaction, I do not think she will welcome a mating lock just yet.

The door groans, and Daghel fills the doorway. His dark gaze moves to the rumpled bed before shifting to fall upon us as his pale arms cross over his chest.

“Gwen fetched me.”

I grumble at his observation and curl myself more comfortably around our female. “Gwen is a silly girl. It is only by the grace of the gods that she has more gift with the healing arts than she has common sense.”

His brow cocks in response, but his mouth flattens as he shakes his head grimly and strides across the room, closing the distance between us to crouch by our female. He runs a clawed hand gently over her cheek and sighs with relief.

“She merely fainted,” he rumbles before lifting his gaze to me once more. “What happened?”

My tail twitches, disconcerted.“I did not expect her to be so frightened,”I admit. How could I when all of my experiences on the mountain have showed close, loving relationships between gathol pair bonds and their mates?“I returned from my hunt and noted that, despite the fire, she was shivering. She is uncomfortable in the cold, so I sought to remedy it in the quickest and most efficient way. She did not react well.”

The corner of his mouth hitches faintly and I stare curiously at his expression, but he is no longer looking at me. Instead, he is peering down at our female thoughtfully.

“She is strong. She will adjust, perhaps even better than many other humans brought here. It was simply too much toosoon,” he says and gives me a pointed look. “I did tell you to rest in the common room until she woke.”

I huff in a quiet grumble. I did not like being out there when my delicious female was hidden away from me in here.“I waited for an entire rotation of the sun,”I mutter.

Truly, my self-restraint should be praised. Wyverns rarely have patience for such social conventions, though I’ve noticed that those born through the clans with some of the orc bloodlines within their veins have a milder appearance and temperament. As an ancient, my own bloodlines show in sharp contrast when compared to theirs. Although I’m only slightly larger, making it possible for me to comfortably fit into the rookeries, I know that their features are far blunter and broader, giving them a “pleasant” appearance. Now that I think on it, the females and many of the males often shy away from me, and I have heard comments more than once about my “monstrous” look.

Is this what she saw when she looked at me?

My chest tightens uncomfortably, my stomach souring as if I had eaten something rotten. Daghel’s gaze shifts back to me, sensing a hint of my distress through our bond. His brows rise in surprise as he regards me.

“You are worried.”

It is not a question, but then it need not be one when he knows my feelings through our joining. Still, I gnash my teeth in annoyance, hating the sudden weakness flooding through me.

“She is afraid of me,” I grumble, echoing my concern.

Daghel snorts and shakes his head. “They are all afraid when they first arrive.”

“But I am not like the other wyverns.”

He lifts his head and regards me quietly for a long moment. “No, you are not. But she may like that better.”

I am not sure if I believe that, but I settle beside her and lower my head to the floor so that I can watch over her until she awakens. I rarely mind the fear of orcs and humans. Usually, I savor it. But not from her.

I just do not know how to win her affection when I have never attempted to win the love of anyone. I never cared to. I never cared for anyone except Daghel, and he accepted me and grew to love me quickly because he had been bred toward that expectation. But this female presents a new challenge that I am uncertain if I will be successful in overcoming.

Chapter

Eleven

ANYA

Warmth envelops me. Even the stone floor feels delightfully warm, which sends little pings of warning through my mind, but I can’t quite seem to connect the dots. My brow furrows and my hand twitches, sending a sharp aching sensation through it and up my arm. Oh, yes… the healer mended it. A vision fills my mind of a woman still in the first blush of youth with jaw-length blonde hair and brown eyes, a look of surprise on her face.

But why am I on the floor?

Heat coils around me as something scaled brushes against my arm. The muscles in that limb tighten in immediate response, and my breath catches even as I struggle to fight for a state of calm.

Oh. Right. The wyvern. Is it… lying beside me? That doesn’t sound like the behavior of a monster preparing to snack on a human, or even one that intends me harm in any fashion when it could easily just let me freeze on the floor. In fact, now that I’mable to slowly untangle the events in my mind, I would dare say that if it had planned on killing me, it would have likely eaten me long before I woke up the first time. Instead, it cuddled with me in bed, much like it seems to be doing now that I’m on the floor. Cuddling isn’t threatening… right? I’ve even known a few aggressive cuddlers and they are about as dangerous as a pillow. Only threatening if they happen to accidentally smother you.

Blowing out a slow breath, I crack one eye open to peer at the creature lying beside me. Its head is roughly twice the size of an orc’s head, which puts it in large proportions, but not quite as terrifying as something that could swallow even an adult orc in one bite. As if sensing my stare, the eye nearest to me opens, its slit pupil expanding slightly in a sea of amber. It doesn’t move, but returns my regard quietly.

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