Page 71 of Orc's Pretend Mate

Rosalind only interrupts a small handful of times, asking for some clarifications. It’s odd things though, that she asks to clarify. Things I mentioned seeing in the marketplace or the way the Maulavi were treating the citizens. Things I only mentioned in passing but she latches onto and has me explain more.

When I finish, I look over at Vapas. He’s looking at me too, but in his eyes is admiration and love. He mouths ‘well done’ and smiles.

“And you… Vapas is it?” Rosalind asks.

“Yes,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rosalind looks from him to me then back.

“Dragoste?” she asks.

I had carefully left my feelings out of the debriefing, but even that she has ascertained in some way that I can only guess at.

“Yes,” he says, nodding emphatically and then putting his arm around my waist.

“And you were sent with a message?” she asks.

I had also not said that part when I gave my story. That, I felt, was his to deliver.

“Yes. The Resistance asked me to come to you and say that they are ready. That help is needed, now, or they will not be able to stand against the Shaman. Or that is the feeling I got from them.”

Rosalind nods, pursing her lips. She whispers a curse in Common and looks over her shoulder at the Zmaj holding her baby. I realize she’s not wearing her space leathers but is dressed more like, well, a regular person. Her clothing is a little loose and comfortable looking, which makes sense but also tells me the baby coming is a very recent thing.

Rosalind leans onto the desk with both hands. Her fingers drum rapidly. Her brow furrows and she frowns. Finally she nods and straightens.

“Thank you, we will do our best,” she says.

“What does that mean?” Vapas asks taking a step forward. “My people are dying. They have lost all hope to the point they are desperate enough to ask these liz—” he cuts himself off with a growl as he looks at the Zmaj, “Zmaj for help.

They are our sworn enemies. The ones who have caused this situation in the first place with their constant aggression. How far must we fall? Is this the end of the Urr’ki, and what? You humans and the gada lizards will sit by and laugh? Celebrating our demise?”

The Zmaj on either side of us step towards him with harsh, angry hisses but Rosalind motions for them to stand back.

“Vapas, I understand your frustration,” she says, her lips tight and her face imperious. “Believe me, when I say I do.” She pauses, lifting her head and squaring her shoulders ever so slightly. “But no matter that, never speak to me that way again.”

Vapas growls and leans aggressively in. Rosalind is uncowed. She meets his glare with steel in her eyes. Any moment this is going to go completely sideways. I put my hand on Vapas shoulder.

“Dragoste,” I whisper. “She will help. She is not the enemy.”

“They are,” he spits, pointing at the Zmaj. “They did this to us.”

The Zmaj holding the baby steps forward into the light for the first time. He lowers his hood so that he can be clearly seen.

“Vapas, I am Visidion. Known as a ‘surface’ Zmaj, once the leader of a clan called the Tribe.”

“I care not for your titles,” Vapas spits.

“I imagine not,” Visidion says, unperturbed. “I tell you this for no more reason than to bring understanding.”

“And?” Vapas growls.

Visidion smiles.

“I am blessed by Tajss,” he says, “to have visions. At times. Rosalind is my mate, my treasure, my heart. I have seen that she will be the one to bring peace to Tajss. Our one hope of such lies in her hands. I ask that you, like me, put your trust in her.”

“And that trust is to extend to all the Zmaj? The ones we have warred with for more generations than I can count?” Vapas says.

“I hope so,” Visidion answers.

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