Page 9 of Orc's Claim
“Three days kitchen duty, Lily. Now you know what it means to cross me,” Owen says as he brings the cart to a halt. The ass has the nerve to blow me a mocking kiss as he ties the horses to a tree and walks away, leaving me and the other women to unload the produce and wares from the second cart while he goes off with the other guards to do whatever the lazy asses do during the day while we work in the hot sun.
“What was that about?” Paloma asks as she hands me my sewing kit before unloading the stack of belts and animal harnesses she’s in charge of selling while I make repairs and take new orders for custom items.
“Nothing,” I lie. I’m too ashamed to tell her he’s been pressuring me for sex. It’s not that I don’t trust Paloma, but unlike me, she’s not exactly shy about standing up to people. I don’t want her to get in trouble.
As we set up our tables, my eyes gloss over the people milling about in our sector. Blue, white, brown. I release a disappointed breath. No green anywhere.
“You okay?” Paloma asks.
“I don’t like rotating jobs. It’s disruptive.” I root through the unfinished pieces in the bag I share with Jessie to see where she left off. “Our sewing styles don’t mesh well. And she didn’t leave me a note of the orders she was working on. None of the papers are here.”
“Damn, they’re back,” Paloma says.
“Who?” I crane my neck to see past the burgeoning crowd. A flash of green sets my heart racing.
As soon as the crowd parts, as it typically does when orcs passthrough the market, my heart sinks. The one orc is on the smaller side, lanky, a teen at best, and the other is that massive orc I saw talking with my orc the other day.
My orc?
When did I start thinking of him as mine? I don’t even know his name! But the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of being his.
Except I can’t be with an orc. The council of New Earth would?—
I slam that thought shut. I don’t know what they’d do, only that it would be bad. Really bad.
Paloma shudders. “That orc’s been walking past here these past few days, running his eyes over all the women. It’s creepy.”
“The big guy?”
“They’re both big, Lily. Monstrous. Well, not the younger one so much. But I’m talking about the one with braids. He never buys anything. Just stares at us. And there’s a third orc I’ve seen around, with wild hair?—”
“Wild? How wild?”
She eyes me. “Does it matter? The point is they’re scary as fuck.”
“Has the wild haired orc done anything?” When her eyes narrow, I add quickly, “To make you suspicious, I mean.”
“Not outwardly, but he’s up to something. I can sense it.”
Act casual. Breathe.
I draw in a breath and release it slowly, turning my head for a moment to look at the sector wall, then the storm shelter off to the side. Anything other than the orcs.
“Maybe he’s just one of their guards,” I add as I organize my supplies.
“Rag Mop is no ordinary guard. He’s definitely planning something. I see it in his eyes.”
“You don’t need to resort to derisive names.”
“It’s not derisive, just descriptive. It’s not like I know his name. And I don’t want to.”
I wish Iknew my orc’s name. Or even if we’re talking about the same orc. His hair hung about his shoulders, untamed, a vast contrast to the orc himself. I rather liked it.
“What is that smirk for on your face?” Paloma asks, her brows narrowing.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, forcing the smile away. “Just thinking about all the nicknames I’d use for Owen.”
“Don’t even get me started talking about that pig. At least we can handle him. He’s not a monster. Just a regular pig, probably overcompensating for a small, limp dick.”
