Page 74 of Orc's Possession
“You know why, Ossa.”
“He’s dead. As is their father. You’re not.”
“Who’s dead?” my female asks as she steps into the main chamber from Evve’s room.
“Why are you here?” I find it easier to ask questions than answer them. And being grak affords me that privilege.
“Because I no longer wish to be with you,” Paloma says, her face stern. I’ve learned my female’s expressions. First, anger and fear, and later empathy, approval, and lust. This expression, one of contempt, I have not seen in a while.
“You’re my mate. Why do you not want to be with me?”
“I’m your mate, but for how long?” Tears gather in the corners of her eyes.
“Do not speak in riddles, female.”
“I heard your warriors talking. They said if I don’t conceive, you’ll go to the moxxels next and get a woman from there. One that has already been chosen and is waiting for you. Is that true?”
Behind me, Ossa curses under her breath.
“I’ve told you why we need females.”
“Will you discard me if I can’t conceive, Atox? That’s not something a man does if he cares about his mate. I thought we’d grown closer, that we’d come to know and respect one another. But I was wrong. You don’t care about me, only whether I can give you kids. We don’t know each other at all, Grak.”
By calling me grak, she’s creating distance between us, and I don’t like it, not at all. “You don’t have all the information,” I say. Sharing details with a female is not something warriors do, but my female thrives on knowing my plans. I must be careful what I say to her, especially here with Ossa and younglings present.
“Are you telling me what I heard was wrong?”
“You heard correctly. That was the plan, but no longer. Not fully.”
“What’s changed? What is your plan now?”
“Do you expect me to tell you every strategy I have?”
“Yes.”
“I’d be a fool of a grak.”
“Then just tell me I’m wrong, Grak. That you want me for more than my ability to give you children. That you don’t plan to get a woman from the moxxels if I can’t have a kid with you.”
“I must help my people survive, and that will not happen without women who are compatible.”
She stumbles back, gripping the wall for balance. “I’m another tool for your use, like your sword or your knives.”
I’ve begun to think of her as more, but challenging me like this in front of others, even if only Ossa and her younglings, compromises my position and effectiveness as grak.
“Tell me, female, how am I to rule with no younglings to train to defend us? Warriors grow old and weak with time and new warriors must take their place.”
“I get that you need women because you have so few, but todiscard someone because she can’t conceive… It’s barbaric. You’re barbaric!”
Too many times, humans and other species in Pen’Kesh taunt my people, calling us filthy animals, saying we are barbaric. We are none of these and I always ignore the insults because they come from beings inferior to orcs. Hearing my female call me these names brings out a rage in me I did not know existed.
I step forward, towering over my female, and in a low voice say, “Do you know how to defend against the enemy, how to plan an attack, how to negotiate without giving up your advantages? How to fight off those who would destroy your people? Tell me, female. What do you know? Do you know anything that will save my people other than the plan I’ve devised?”
“I know none of those things, but I have value, more than giving birth to kids. I can cook, clean, farm, tend to animals…. And I’m willing to learn and do whatever it takes to help others, but I won’t be treated as if my only value is in my reproductive organs. If you can’t see that, then you are not the grak I believed you to be.”
“As grak it is my duty to do whatever is necessary to protect my people, human,” I snap back, realizing too late I’ve made this about her species instead of the true issue.
I don’t want to lose her.
