Page 7 of The Passionate Orc
"Training schedule," I lied, crumpling the paper into my pocket. "For the new recruits."
Grubnuk grunted, losing interest immediately. "Chief wants you at the weapons pit. New spears need testing."
I nodded, relief flooding through me as he lumbered away. That was close, too close. If anyone in the Red Blade Clan discovered my secret passion for painting... well, I'd never hear the end of it. Orcs were supposed to swing axes, not brushes.
But the competition deadline was in three weeks. Three weeks to create something worthy, something that could stand alongside the finest art in the city. I had to enter. I had to.
First, though, I had to figure out how to hide it from my clan mates.
"You're planning to do what?"Emryn's blue eyes widened, the afternoon sunlight catching the golden flecks in her irises.
We sat in her small studio apartment, canvases and half-finished sculptures surrounding us like colorful sentinels. The smell of turpentine and clay hung in the air, mingling with honeysuckle. I longed to touch her curly brown hair, pulled back today with a paint-splattered bandana.
"Enter the Emerald City competition," I repeated, reaching into my leather vest to pull out the crumpled flyer. "But no one from my clan can know."
Her delicate fingers brushed mine as she took the paper, sending little jolts of electricity up my arm. We'd only been seeing each other for two weeks, but Ancestors help me, this tiny human woman had me completely bewitched.
"Nar, this is perfect for you! Your landscape series is incredible." She leaned forward, eyes bright with excitement. "But why the secrecy? Your work deserves to be seen."
I shifted uncomfortably on her too-small sofa. "You know why. Red Blade warriors don't... paint." The word came out like a confession. "We're supposed to honor our ancestors through battle and blood, not, watercolors and still lifes."
Emryn stood up suddenly, hands on her hips. The movement made her flowy dress sway around her knees, momentarily distracting me.
"That's ridiculous. Your art is part of who you are. And it's magnificent."
Heat rushed to my face. "You're the only one who thinks so."
"Because I'm the only one who's seen it!" She threw her hands up, then softened. "Look, I understand clan traditions are important. But art isn't weakness, Nar. It's another kind of strength."
Something in my chest tightened and released. This was why I was falling for her, she saw me. Not just the seven-foot orc warrior with battle scars and intimidating tusks, but the whole me.
"I need somewhere to work," I admitted. "Can't exactly set up an easel in the barracks."
A slow smile spread across her face. "You could work here."
"Here?" My gaze darted around her small apartment. "But there's barely room for you."
"We'll make room. My place is closer to the competition venue anyway." She crossed to me, placing her small hand on my arm. Her touch sent warmth spiraling through me. "We could even collaborate on something."
"Collaborate?"
"A joint entry. Your landscapes with my sculptures, creating a 3D world." Her enthusiasm was infectious. "It could be amazing, Nar."
I stood, towering over her but feeling humbled by her generous spirit. "You'd do that for me?"
"With you," she corrected, standing on tiptoes to brush her lips against mine. "For us."
I gathered her close, breathing in her scent, careful not to squeeze too tight. My Emryn resembled a wildflower as delicate but resilient.
"There's just one problem," I murmured against her hair.
"What's that?"
"How am I going to sneak art supplies past my clan mates?"
The plan seemed simple enough.I'd tell my clan brothers I was spending time with my human woman—not untrue—and they'd assume I was just satisfying more... primal urges. No orc would question that. Then I'd slip away to Emryn's apartment each evening to work on our competition piece.
Simple. Foolproof. Except I'd forgotten the most important rule of the universe: nothing involving me ever goes according to plan.
