Page 77 of Orc's Possession
We? Jealousy surges within me at the thought that she’s with another male.
“I want to talk. Please, Atox.” The lilt of her voice stirs something inside me, and I know even before she appears through the trees that I will never let her go. I can’t. She’s become a part of me. Paloma is and always will be mine.
When the gorja pushes through the trees, beautiful deep brown eyes lock onto me.
“Atox!” my female squeals.
Thick hands lock around her waist to keep her from jumping off the gorja. Verig’s riding behind her.
My heart swells with pride that she wants me, despite how she fears me… how all my people fear me.
Verig lifts her off the gorja and sets her down. The moment her feet touch the ground, she runs toward me, only to stop a few feet in front of me.
“Atox…” she greets cautiously. Her smile disappears, replaced by a sadness I dislike seeing on her. She’s been a light I never knew I needed in the dark tunnels of my soul. She feared the dark when we first met, but I’ve been wallowing in it, dying slowly each day without her.
Cutting Sojek... Vekk, I still don’t understand what possessed me at the time, even when I knew he had not lost her. I had scented my female hiding in the cart, and yet I still lashed out at him, focused all my frustrations and worries on the young male. I had taken her from her people without any regard to how that would affect her, and I have viewed her as broodmare, as she correctly stated.
Ossa was right about me. I am very much like our father. That needs to change, and I know one way to start. With Paloma.
“Give us privacy, Verig,” I order as I take the gorja’s reins.
“Shall I return to camp or wait for you, Grak?”
“Wait.”
Verig dismounts and walks a distance from us. I run my hand along the gorja’s spikes as they settle flush against her neck. “This gorja is Rava, she is older than the others. Has birthed many strong gorjas, but no longer.”
“Then why do you keep her?”
“We value her for her service. Her temperament. Her wisdom.”
“I didn’t know gorjas have wisdom.”
“All animals do, to an extent. While she no longer rides into battle, and mostly grazes with the other gorjas, she still has much to offer. Younglings first learn to ride on her. She tolerates their lack of experience. The way they dig their heels into her instead of using their thighs and knees to apply pressure. How they grab the tender part of her neck to mount instead of here,” I grip the base to show her how and where. “She is valued. You chose a good gorja to ride.”
“Verig chose her. I picked the smallest one in the pen. Boz.”
“Even I do not like to ride Boz. He has a sour temper. No, Rava is a better choice. Can you ride, Paloma?”
“I’ve ridden horses on Earth, but gorja’s are bigger and different. Like Orcs,” she says with a slight smile, as if testing my mood.
“You are untrained and yet you planned to ride a gorja to find me?”
“I had to try. I figured with a gorja I could cover more ground, but Verig insisted on escorting me.”
“You are fortunate he stopped you. You could have broken your neck on Boz. Rava will not throw a rider, under any circumstance. Verig will make a good grak one day.”
My female stiffens. “I’m sure you’ll have a son with the moxxel to pass on the position to.”
I don’t have any fight left in me, not against my female. I’ve hurt her in a way I cannot repair. Like I hurt Sojek.
I hand her the reins. “Ossa is right about me. I’ve been treating you no different from how my grak would have. You are free to go, Paloma.”
“You don’t want me?” she asks as brown eyes gloss over with a wetness I understand now. Sadness. Hurt. Pain.
Her tears never affected me before, mainly because I didn’t know what they were. But I’ve since learned. Seeing the sadness in Paloma’s face spears me. I run my thumb over her cheek, wiping the tears away. “Orcs do not cry.”
“Humans do.”
