Page 47 of Agor the Merciless
He squeezed Zoe’s hand, then continued.
“Grak the Bitter bargained with my mate’s life. He poisoned her and demanded my submission for the cure. I promised him mercy to save her, and yes, I killed him after he gave me what I needed.”
The crowd murmured, but Agor spoke louder.
“I do not regret what I did. My bond is to my mate, as well. I will break any promise to a viper to protect my family. Grak turned against us. He poisoned Zoe not because she threatened him, but because she was mine. He’d have tried again, foundnew ways to hurt us all. I ended the threat when I had the chance. That is who I am.”
Agor had said his bit. The orcs watched, some nodded, others stared. Zoe stepped forward, moving in front of the captain to look at each and every orc, hoping that if she established eye contact, they would take her seriously. After all, she was just a human, and orcs had no reason to listen to a human.
“Your captain made a hard choice. He chose to save me, his mate, over keeping his word to someone who wanted us both dead. Grak tried to kill me to control Agor. He planned to rule through fear and pain. Your captain showed Grak the mercy he deserved – none. It’s in his name, isn’t it? Agor the Merciless fights for what belongs to him. He protects what is his. He will not let anyone threaten his family or his horde, no matter what it costs him. He defends what matters. I have never felt safer than at his side, and neither should you.”
The orcs whispered to each other. Their voices started low, then grew louder until they filled the cavern with a roar that shook the walls. They beat their fists against their chests. Others stamped their feet together, creating a rhythm that matched the beating of their fists. The noise grew as more joined in. Many orcs who had looked uncertain now nodded and grunted.
Agor felt the sound of their approval through his boots, carried by the vibrating ground. He looked at their faces. The questions were gone, and he saw respect in their eyes once more. It was now that he realized that breaking his word hadn’t weakened him. It had made his connection with his horde stronger. He had proven that nothing came before their safety, not even his honor as an orc. His family and the horde came first.
The name they chanted – Agor the Merciless – reminded him of who he was. He wasn’t merciless because he was cruel, but because he would protect what was his. This was him. A captainwho would defend his people without stopping. A leader who would do what was needed. They saw it now.
Chapter Thirty
Six months passed. The orc garage changed under Zoe’s leadership, and now tools hung on wall pegs, parts sat in labeled bins, and vehicles lined up in neat rows. The space hummed with organized activity. She’d never liked the chaos and was relieved when Grol and Tarn embraced her ideas.
As usual, Zoe was leaning over an open car hood, her hands and clothes smudged with grease. The difference was that her work shirt stretched across her rounded belly, the fabric pulled tight, and she was breathing more heavily, moving more slowly, and had to take breaks often. Still, she didn’t want to give up working every day.
Tarn stood next to her, passing tools when she needed them. He looked at her hands and copied her movements when she showed him how to adjust the timing belt. They didn’t talk much as they worked, but they didn’t need to.
Zoe tightened the last bolt and nodded to Tarn.
“Try it now.”
He reached through the window and turned the key. The engine started right away, running smooth and strong, and the rough coughing sound it had made before was gone.
Zoe straightened up and put her hand on her lower back, supporting the weight of her pregnant belly. The baby kicked, making her smile. It wouldn’t be long now, and she and Agor would meet their first born. They didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, though Lyra the Mage had told them she could divine the gender if they wanted to. She had her ways. Zoe, wary of magic when it wasn’t absolutely necessary, had refused. She didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, all she wanted was for the baby to be healthy.
She looked around the garage that had become her domain. This place felt right to her now, with the smell of oil and thesound of orc car engines. Her hands stayed busy fixing things that the orcs brought to her, and they respected her skill. The old life she’d left behind didn’t matter anymore. The people who’d wanted her to be something she wasn’t, who’d made her hide her real interests and talents… they seemed far away now. Because they were. She still had her phone with her, though the battery was dead. But two weeks ago, she’d visited the nearest town with Pira and Durnak, and she’d taken the phone with her. She charged it at a gas station enough to check her messages and missed calls. Nothing from her ex-boyfriend, Mark, and only a message from her brother who asked where she’d disappeared to. That was all. She hadn’t bothered to reply.
Zoe felt safe in a way she never had before. Not just because Agor protected her, though he did. She felt safe because she had found her place. She made her own decisions, and no one questioned her.
The baby moved again, and she rubbed her belly to soothe it. This child would be born into a home where both parents could be themselves. No one would tell her son or daughter to be something they weren’t. This thought made her feel like all was right in the world.
***
Candles burned in Zoe and Agor’s room. She leaned back against the wall, legs stretched out on the furs as she watched her orc mate. Agor opened the chest that was against the wall and reached inside. Her anticipation mounted. He turned around with a rope and a leather belt in his hands, which he then placed beside her on the bed. He knelt on the floor and lowered himself until they were face to face. He was so tall, that at least one of them had to make a bit of an effort if they wanted to look into each other’s eyes.
“Do you want this?” Agor asked.
Zoe saw how eagerly he was waiting for her answer. She glanced at the rope and the belt, then back to his face. Her breathing quickened.
“Yes,” she said.
She remembered their talk months ago, when he’d told her about Urka the Bone-Mender and what had happened to him in her cave. He’d explained why he needed to use the rope sometimes, why tying someone else helped with the memories that still bothered him. How being in control freed him from the past. She understood it now better than before. The rope and belt belonged to both of them. They weren’t just for him to control her. She could say no. She could stop anytime. Knowing that made her want to say yes. Zoe picked up the rope and felt the rough texture against her fingers. She handed it to him because she wanted to. She would let him tie her while her mind stayed free.
Agor reached for her. His hands cupped her face with care, thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. He moved his touch down to her throat, feeling her pulse under his fingers, then to her shoulders, where tension melted at the contact. When his hands found the curve of her belly, he paused, taking in the miracle of their child growing inside her.
Zoe leaned into his touch. Her eyes closed as his fingers traced patterns on her skin. She made a soft sound that encouraged him to continue. There was no magic pushing her toward him now, no curse making her need this. She wanted him because she chose to.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
The warmth of her skin radiated through his palms. The round swell of her belly filled him with pride and wonder. This was their future taking shape. His need for her burned steady and deep, but it was different now. The desperate fear that she might break away, that their ritual might fail… all that wasgone. He didn’t crave her to complete what was missing in him, because he didn’t feel like he was only half of what he used to be anymore. And when he looked at her, he saw a whole person. Strong. Brave. The woman who stood beside him when he faced his horde. The woman who saw his darkness and still chose him. His past with Urka, the pain and shame, didn’t haunt this moment. He didn’t need to test her loyalty or her desire. He only wanted to cherish what they were building together.
