Page 28 of Resisting the Wicked Orc

RAVA

“...and that’s why we need a full report on your combat training. How are we supposed to know you can protect her if we don’t?—”

“I’ve been fighting since I could walk,” Zral replied, his voice carrying that dangerous edge of patience I recognized all too well. “The Sombra don’t coddle their warriors.”

I paused in the doorway, watching the scene unfold. My brothers had Zral surrounded—Kaz with his arms crossed, Malak leaning against the wall with deceptive casualness, and Zane circling like he was sizing up prey. Zral stood in the center, shoulders squared despite the way he still favored his left side where Kaz’s boot had cracked his ribs.

“Carving toys isn’t exactly battle training,” Zane prodded, his tail flicking with obvious enjoyment. “I heard orcs from your clan spend more time whittling than fighting these days.”

Zral’s jaw tightened. “I’d be happy to demonstrate my skills. Anytime.”

This shit again. For three days, I’d walked in on variations of the same scene—my brothers testing Zral’s patience with thinly veiled interrogations disguised as concern. The compound feltsmaller by the hour, too many dominant personalities crammed into too little space, with too much uncertainty hanging over all our heads.

My gaze lingered on Zral, cataloging the changes since that night. The bruises had faded from purple to yellow-green, and he moved with more ease, though I noticed how he still guarded his ribs when he thought no one was looking. The physical wounds were healing, but there was a restlessness in his eyes that mirrored my own. This wasn’t his place—surrounded by mercenaries who happened to be my annoying big brothers.

I loved them. Truly, I did. But if I had to listen to one more ‘friendly chat’ about Zral’s capabilities, I was going to set something on fire. Preferably Kaz.

What I really wanted was a moment alone with my mate without three overprotective idiots listening through the walls. We’d barely had time to breathe since Javed’s death, let alone process what it meant for us. For our futures.

I stepped fully into the room, and the tension immediately shifted. Zral’s face softened when he saw me, with more than a little flicker of relief in his eyes. Kaz turned with an overly casual smile that didn’t quite mask the severity of his earlier questioning.

“It’s done?” Kaz asked, his tail betraying his impatience.

“Yes.” I brushed past Zane, moving to stand beside Zral. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining with a gentle squeeze that sent warmth through my chest. “I threw the pendant into?—”

Kaz held up his hand, cutting me off. “I don’t want to know. The less information any of us have, the better. In case someone comes looking.”

Smart. I swallowed the rest of my explanation about the active volcano I’d found. Malak had been tasked with disposing of the ring somewhere equally unreachable. As far as anyoneknew, the relics were still stories from our ancient past. Nothing more than legends.

“Any word from the Fitsum palace?” I asked, leaning into Zral’s warmth.

Kaz shifted his weight, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I’ve been summoned for an audience with the king.”

My heart stuttered. “And?”

“And nothing yet.” Kaz’s tail flicked with irritation. “But I got the sense from the messenger that Javed was no true loss to the old man.”

The unspoken question hung in the air between us. What would happen to the Kadhan clan now? Would we still be enforcers and mercenaries for hire, or would the king demand retribution for his son’s death? The uncertainty pressed down on all of us, making the compound feel like a powder keg waiting for a spark.

Zral slipped his arm around my waist in a casual embrace that felt anything but casual. I glanced up to find his dark eyes studying my face, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the tension in the room. He leaned down, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to my lips. But his fingers tightened on my hip, lingering too long for a simple touch.

The tension in his body mirrored what I felt in my own soul. I stood on my toes, bringing my lips to his ear. “Need a rescue?”

His groan was barely audible, but I felt it rumble through his chest. “Gods, yes.”

I turned to my brothers. “Right, well. I’ll be stealing Zral away before you decide vivisection is the best judge of character.”

Kaz looked like he wanted to object, but Malak caught his eye and gave a subtle shake of his head. Small mercies.

I didn’t wait for them to change their minds. Grabbing Zral’s hand, I pulled him from the room and down the corridor to mybedroom. The moment the door closed behind us, I pressed my back against it and let out a long breath.

“We need to talk,” I said.

Zral went still, his shoulders tensing like I’d just thrown a knife at his head. “What do you mean?”

Shit. Those four little words—the universal prelude to heartbreak. I recognized that look on his face—the careful neutrality that couldn’t mask the hurt beneath. My stomach twisted. How many times had I been on the receiving end of ‘we need to talk’ from Kaz before he delivered news I didn’t want to hear?

“Not about us.” I stepped forward quickly, taking his hands in mine and squeezing his fingers. “Never about us. It’s everything else. This place. My brothers.” I let off a sigh and met his eyes. “I don’t think we should stay here.”

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