Page 61 of Orc's Possession
“And look what happened. You let your mother die and your sisters have no one to teach them what it is to be a woman.”
I charge at him, but Atox grabs me around the waist, and angles me away from his sword and my father.
“You’ve upset my mate. We will discuss your colony’s needs at the appointed date. Leave.”
My father huffs, turns, and leaves.
“Come, Paloma,” Atox orders.
I yank free of his grip the moment he loosens his hold. “You plan on meeting him again? Why? What’s going on, Grak? Why did you halt your sword? Because he’s my father? Or because there’s another deal being negotiated?”
“This is none of your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t. Tell me what’s going on between you and my father. I have a right to know.”
He sheathes his sword. “You have no rights, except those I give you.”
His words hurt. I thought we had come to an understanding, found respect for one another, but it appears I’m still nothing to him.
“Fine.” I’ll walk with him, do what he says, but that’s it. He should have listened to my father. I plan on showing him precisely how headstrong I can be.
ATOX IM GRAK
I fearI’ve lost what little progress I’ve made with my female. After the councilman left, Paloma turns cold toward me, like that first day when I took her from her home. I hold out my hand toher, something orcs rarely do. She refuses. Already I miss the feel of her hand in mine.
“You will not hold my hand as before?”
She folds her arms over her breasts and scowls at me. How very orc of her, an irony I do not miss though right now I’d rather she be very human and smile at me… anything to indicate she accepts me. I’ve erred with her, by not striking her father down.
“This is not the place to discuss the agreement with your people,” I say as I hasten my pace, but not too much. I don’t want her falling behind in the market. There are many dangers here.
“I thought you and the other orcs are my people now, Grak,” she bites back as we reach a grain storage building, presently empty since it’s early in the growing season.
“Inside. Now,” I roar.
To my surprise, she enters without protest. Apparently, my femalecanfollow orders. When it suits her.
“You called me grak.”
“That is your title.”
When I first took Paloma from the human colony, she called me grak, as was fitting. Then she learned my name and used it, despite my objections. Now she calls me grak again, and it feels as if someone has thrown me into a racanna-infested lake. She has a way of latching onto something I’ve said, using it to refute my position, only to drown me with her determination until I surrender.
Her will, her determination, and her cunning challenge me, but they also make her worthy of a grak. And perhaps, more importantly, she’s finally chosen me over her people. This female is my future. I am sure of it now more than ever. But I don’t believe she feels the same.
I have not proven myself to her.
Her behavior earlier was very orc-like as she advanced on her enemy—her sire—ready to claw out his eyes. I wish I could have allowed her to carry through, silence her father as I had my own. Irobbed her of that satisfaction, but letting her attack him would have endangered her, which I cannot allow.
Her enemy is my enemy. In ordinary circumstances, I would gladly maim or kill for her. But I’m fighting for more than my female’s future. All of my people’s future. As long as her father is key to my securing females for my warriors, I must restrain myself from punishing him.
I do not think my mate understands this is why I kept her from striking the male… or why I did not do so on her behalf.
“You called me grak,” I repeat my comment. “Why now? You’ve defied my every order to call me grak.”
“I thought you’d begun to understand all that I’ve been through, to understand me and show me you care about me as more than a breeder, but clearly not. Not if you still plan on buying other women and putting them through the same ordeal.”
“What I negotiate with the humans is done to benefit all of my people, including you, female.”
