Page 31 of Orc's Claim
The warrior in me is eager to tear them apart. The male who worries for his female’s safety prays to the gods that our neld will order us not to engage. The humans’ show of force, as weak as it is, warrants a response on our part, and is just what our grak wants.
“Get the fuck out of here,” the smallest of the human males warns. Then the others join in.
“You belong in the moxxel animal pens!”
“Leave, beasts!”
“Go back to your caves, orc filth.”
The slurs strike fast and furiously. Words meant to hurt, to scare, but one cannot be hurt by words.
Unless they come from a trusted friend, lover… mate.
A growl launches from my throat, intended more for me than the males waving their arms at us as if we can be scared off like younglings. Human younglings perhaps, not orc.
Certainly not orc warriors.
Anger rages through me as I stand here, waiting for my neld’s orders.
Misplaced Anger. That’s what my sire would call it if he’d survived the Undoing. The moment Lily told me of the male who harmed her on her home world, red hot anger loosed a fog upon my brain. The desire to kill him had been so intense, so incredibly unyielding, I would have lashed out at any human male had another been standing nearby. That same anger threatens to usurp my control now as these pitiful males stand between me and my female, challenging us. They want bloodshed.
So do I.
Deserved or not, these males will receive my wrath if they make one move. I need to leech the anger, especially the contempt I hold for myself.
I reach for the sword sheathed on my back.
The humans raise their sticks and knives higher, preparing.
My eyes latch onto my first target. A male who snapped at Lily weeks ago. The soothing sound of steel leaving my sheath focuses my blood, my body, my mind.
“Fall back!” our grak’s voice booms.
I turn swiftly, a quick glance, long enough to see Atox standing beside two males, a bantaran and human. Not fighters, not with those lean, weaponless forms.
“Owen, move the men back,” the human with my grak shouts to the eight males waiting to attack us.
My grak swipes at his forehead, a signal to disperse, then he speaks in low whispers to the human and bantaran. Negotiations.
With puzzled expressions, the eight humans facing us trade glances but withdraw as ordered.
“You saw the signal,” Verig says. “Separate and fan out. Move through the market. Let yourselves be seen.”
We’d been ordered to the humans’ sector as a show of strength. Nothing more. I’m relieved and… surprised. Our grak has changed since our escape to Kovos. On Orcos, we would have charged the enemy and taken what we wanted.
Not today.
Kodex and Telin peel away, disappointment on their faces. Verig wears his usual mask of ambivalence, revealing nothing. Then again, as neld, he knows what our grak is planning. And he’s vekking good at keeping secrets.
“Leave, Ryko,” Verig orders over his shoulder.
I can’t, not without seeing my Lily.
With a simple shift of the wind, her sweet scent fills my lungs. My eyes home in on her instantly.
My heart speeds up as our eyes meet.
For a brief moment, I see the hurt and pain in her expression.
