Page 30 of Daghel

The emphasis on the word sight is strange, but I must admire her entrepreneur’s spirit. What’s more, despite her eyefor business, although she is likely no younger than sixteen, her voice is sweet and light with such innocence that it nearly breaks my jaded heart. And even more so when her eyes light up with delight when Daghel smiles and inspects her offering before digging out a gold coin and handing it to her.

Her clawed fingers curl around the coin happily, and she nods in thanks before taking off once more into the crowd with her basket of wares.

“This necklace is worth hundreds of gold coins in Zyl—it’s really too much for someone like me,” I protest when Daghel turns to me to slip the rope of gemstones around my neck, his hands warm against my skin as he fastens the little latch at my nape.

It is a weak protest, however. I was always fond of the eternal beauty of jewels, but as much as past lovers tossed inferior specimens at me over the years only for me to be eventually parted with them, nothing truly felt like a gift for my pleasure. Not like this. This is not merely being adorned. Every bit of Daghel’s body language is that of a male sweetly cherishing his female. Of giving me something because he saw that I desired it even if I never would have asked for it, for no other reason than to make me happy.

Daghel’s eyes glow with such pleasure as his claws brush my throat as he adjusts the gemstones against my neck. “In my eyes, only you are worthy of them,” he murmurs in a deep rasp that slides over my senses, making me shiver. “And apparently, that female agrees. Those who speak to the stones within the clans have a knowing of where they belong. You are worth every treasure, Anya, even if just taking into account what happiness that you have brought into the life of your gathol.”

My eyes prickle with tears, but I quickly blink them away as I clutch a hand over my chest in an attempt to collect myself against the sentimentality puddling within me. Is this truly whatit is to be cherished? Daghel is no gentle male and rarely speaks in gentle words, but in this moment, I feel as if I were a queen among women for no other reason than being showered with what feels very much like what I imagine love to feel like.

“Thank you,” I manage around a lump of emotion. “This is?—”

A shrill sound of frustration interrupts me, but when I glance over at its source, my eyebrows rise in surprise. Chelsea, no longer clad in simple yellow and crimson as it has been replaced with a warm burgundy dress and coat, is just a short distance away, her beautiful face pinched with displeasure as she squares off with the male at her side. Although she is tucked lovingly beneath his arm, I can see the war brewing on her face of a spoiled child, and I bite back a sigh. I have witnessed far too many such outbursts from this girl over the years in nearly every social setting I’ve come across her.

“Why can’t you make that girl come back and buy a necklace for me?” she demands. “There was one in that basket with a ruby the size of my thumb. I want it.”

“It does not work that way,” he rumbles far more patiently than I would have imagined coming from such a brawny male possessing a face that’s a mess of scars. His appearance suggests the rough appearance of a fighter, and yet his expression and tone are gentle as he strokes a hand along her arm to soothe her. “It is a special knowing. She cannot give them to those to whom they do not belong.”

“Are you saying I’m unworthy?” she shrieks, and I wince at the obnoxiously piercing tone.

“Of course not,” the male replies, his tone as mellow and patient as ever.

Truly, I applaud him because I already want to slap her.

“Seems that another male is trying their luck in mating your friend,” Daghel observes dryly.

“Oh, she’s not my friend,” I reply as I turn from her and sip on my warm drink. “Truthfully, she has done her best to make my life miserable on more occasions than one.”

“Is that so?” Daghel’s eyes narrow as he peers over at her, but I nudge him gently with my elbow, bringing his attention back down to me where it belongs.

“Let’s not allow her to spoil things,” I suggest in a low voice as I lean into him and rest my head against his chest. The top of my head barely reaches the lower edge of his pectorals, but it counts. The contact is what is most important, and a happy sigh escapes me when his big arm wraps around my back. “This has really been a wonderful day.”

“It has,” he agrees, a hint of surprise coloring his voice.

I smile, happy to just wallow in the moment. Unfortunately, Chelsea once again proves her distinct talent at ruining everything when her voice rises sharply with anger.

“Then why is thatwhorewearing one of those necklaces if they are so precious?”

I feel Daghel’s muscles tense as my back goes rigid. There is no need to guess whom she means as the heads of orcs and humans alike turn toward me with curiosity. Tension coils deeply within Daghel as his arm drops away. It is like hugging a spring that is coiled up and preparing to be released. And Chelsea definitely does not want him to be released upon her. I wrap my arms around his waist tightly, disregarding the fact that I’m spilling my drink all over the place.

“Don’t kill her just yet,” I whisper in a quiet plea.

“Enough!” The male’s brutal growl drowns out my words, and I look over curiously when I hear Chelsea respond with a squeak of surprise. Although his scarred face is stern with displeasure, he holds her gently by the back of the neck as he frowns down at her. “Enough,” he repeats in a calmer voice. “It seems that this is not a good day to enjoy Gehl. If you can learnto curb your tongue and speak respectfully about your sisters, we can try again tomorrow.”

“Sister?” she barks in outrage. “How dare you compare me to—” She squeals again as he lifts her up into his arms.

Holding her firmly against his chest, he turns toward us with a respectful dip of his head before heading out with a very angry and loudly cursing Chelsea in his arms. I watch them go, a niggle of concern working its way through me despite the absolute delight I feel at how efficiently he dealt with her cruelty.

“Is she going to be okay?” I whisper.

Daghel watches them leave, a small smile playing on his lips before his eyes drop to me, their depths filled with warm reassurances. “Of course. Although a male is to help his mate become accustomed to the traditions of the Fang Peaks, this small public correction is to spare her from being corrected far more unkindly by another female in the future. He does not appear to be willing to give up on her easily, so he will not return her. He will merely take her home and comfort the sting of his rebuke and shower her with adoration.”

“Ah, that seems a little more than what she deserves,” I grumble, but it is halfhearted.

As much as Chelsea has been a thorn in my side, I do not wish her any true harm or unhappiness. Unwilling to waste another moment of thought on the wretched girl, I wrap my arms around Daghel and hug him tight as the merriment resumes all around us. Despite the unpleasantness, this is turning out to be a most enjoyable Yulen—or Gehl—after all.

Chapter

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