Page 32 of Bred By the Orc

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Every once in a while, his fingers would tighten on my hip, reassuring me, and I was grateful for his support.

‘Twas early summer, and the breeze blew fresh scents through the enclosed space. I wrinkled my nose at the old rushes and spilled stale ale, knowing in less than a year I’d become far more comfortable with the simple orcish way of life than I ever was in this grand keep.

Last summer had been an exciting time as I familiarized myself with the ways of life in the Bladesedge Clan. Twenty-eight days after the initial raid which had left John the only casualty, Drakolt and I had stepped back through the circle of stones to meet my father’s waiting army.

I had turned them about and sent them back with a letter, explaining that I was safe, as were Roxanna and Effie. I had told father about my marriage—I had used terms he would understand—and new role as clan leader…as well as my pregnancy.

Each month thereafter there had been an exchange of messages, but this was my first time seeing Father since last summer when he had announced I would be sent to marry Laird MacDonald.

“And furthermore!” Father stormed toward us, waving a scroll. “Laird MacDonald demanded we honor the marriage betrothal.”

I knew this; he had written of the development. “Well, I hope, since Laird MacDonald was not particular aboutwhichof your daughters you sent, that Elspeth will be quite happy as his bride.”

Father pulled up short, glaring down his nose at me, but smart enough not to come closer. “Thank the saints your sister had the sense you lack! Her marriage to Laird MacDonald prevented war! He would have sent his army against ours.”

For the first time, Drakolt stirred. He straightened and rumbled, “Then ye would have had the swords and axes of Clan Bladesedge at yer side, Tarbert.”

My father startled and swung to face my Mate. He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning thoughtfully as he studied Drakolt. Finally he said, “You would do that? Send your men to fight for me?”

Drakolt shrugged easily. “My men would gladly fight at the side of my father-in-law. That was the point of this alliance.”

I could tell Father was intrigued by the idea of counting Bladesedge Clan as his allies. Drakolt had taken me so the other orc clans would know ofhisalliance with the Tarberts…but our warriors were mighty and could tip the balance of human conflict too.

“The alliance is beneficial to both parties,” I murmured, but I wasn’t certain if I was speaking to Father, to Drakolt, or mayhap to wee Callum, who’d woken and begun to squirm.

Father straightened, face twisted into a scowl. “Aye, but I was not given a choice in the matter.”

“Nay, ye werenae,” Drakolt agreed mildly. “I kenned ye’d deny me, and I wouldnae accept that.” He glanced down at me, a twinkle in his dark eyes. “I could no’ accept a life without my Sorcha.”

“Bah!” muttered Father. “One wife is the same as the next.”

“I pity ye, Tarbert, if ye believe that.”

I grinned and hefted my little green son against my shoulder. “Think of it this way, Father: Laird MacDonald agrees with you, and Elspeth will make him a fine wife. You get your alliance with him…andwith the powerful orc warriors of Clan Bladesedge.”

From the calculating expression on Father’s face, I knew he could see the benefits of the situation.

“Now,” I announced, pulling the blanket away from Callum’s face. “Would you like to meet your grandson?”

To my surprise, Drakolt reached down to gently lift the bairn from my arms. He turned to face Father with a proud grin. “This is Callum, and he will be the next chief of Bladesedge.”

Father’s expression warred between disapproval and interest as he offered the wee one a finger. “He looks like you,” he grumbled.

“Aye,” Drakolt agreed. “But our daughter will look like Sorcha, and she will be the bonniest lassie the Bladesedge have ever kenned.”

Father shot me a glance that was almost amused before he peered down at Callum. “Hehas a good grip.”

“That is because he’s my son,” Drakolt agreed. “And yer grandson.”

At that compliment, my Father’s gaze jerked up to Drakolt, and after a long moment, a begrudging smile spread across his face.

“Aye, heismy grandson, and he’ll be the best chief your clan has known.”

Drakolt nodded solemnly, but I couldfeelhow pleased he was, in the same way he could occasionally feel my anger or fear. Gelma said ‘twas the Mating bond that allowed it, but now I merely grinned.

“Sorcha!” I turned when I heard my name being called.

Effie hurried toward me, waving a scroll, and with a backward glance at my three males, I hurried toward her.