Page 18 of Shared By Two Orcs

Except Willo. Willow makes me happier than that. And something deep in my gut tells me that getting into a fight here and now would push us apart sooner than it would bring us together.

What if she hears about it, gets angry, and resolves not to see either of us? Or worse, what if she decides that means she has to pick, and she pickshim? I can’t even consider that.

Thinking quickly, I decide to try a different approach. “Look, it’s not like she’s mated to either one of us, right?” I offer.

The scowl on his perpetually grumpy face deepens, something I didn’t even think was possible. The wrinkles in his forehead are so deep, you could fill them with water and float a boat there.

I can tell he’s preparing to respond with a contradiction, ready to argue why he deserves her first again. It’s not a case I have any interest in hearing, just in case he is right, so I cut him off quickly. “If she’s interested in both of us, let’s just leave it alone. Tell a girl like that she has to pick, and she might get mad and tell us both to get lost.”

The wrinkles deepen. It’s the first time it occurred to him, I can tell.

I push ahead while I have his attention. “We’re not kids anymore, right? We’re mature, too old for games. We both have an interest in her, and she has an interest in us. We can just leave it at that and see what develops.”

What I am really saying, of course, is that I hope in time she will decide I am the best match for her. But it’s not something I’m willing to risk by pushing for it right now. I feel I am, perhaps, something of an acquired taste. I’ll grow on her with time, but I need to leave myself the space for that to happen.

I can see Yamarz thinking it over. His eyes dart to the side, looking away from me as he ponders my proposition. Because of the way his face always looks so irritable, it’s hard to tell how he feels.

I find myself holding my breath as I wait for him to answer, hoping my ploy worked. I see his big, beefy arms tighten slightly in their folded position across his chest. The muscles tense as he pulls into himself. The posture is clearly a defensive one.

For just a moment, my heart sinks. If outsmarting him hasn’t worked, I’m probably sunk.

Then, his head snaps back to face mine, meeting my gaze. “So, we don’t interfere with each other? No fighting. No telling her who she has to go with. No showing up to make the other guy look stupid.”

“Or weak,” I add. My voice sounds a little too hopeful, and I clear my throat. In a more disinterested tone, I continue. “Right, exactly. When it’s all said and done, whatever happens will be her choice. We stay out of it completely, aside from just both remaining available to her.”

His eyes narrow, sweeping over my figure. I have a feeling he is thinking similar thoughts to my own. He’s evaluating me, considering just how different we are.

My hair is practically shaved, while his hangs all the way to his shoulders, long and wavy. The color, black, is the only thing we have in common.

He’s a massive mountain of an orc. I’m not small by any means and compared to most other orcs, I’d likely be described as stout. But next to him, almost any orc looks small. He has nearly half a foot of height on me. And that’s not to mean that I’m short, because I’m not. Yamarz is just huge.

His face and body are covered in scars and tattoos, while my skin remains nearly immaculate. His right tusk has a noticeable chip in it, and mine are clean and smooth.

I see the gears turning in his head, deciding that he’s willing to bet that Willo will pick the rough and tumble type. If human women are looking for big and beefy, he’d be the clear winner in that contest.

I continue to remain optimistic that she’s more interested in what I have to offer. I’m less moody, less sullen, less abrasive all around. When all is said and done, I know some of the orcs think of me as a bit of a wash out, but I’m mostly genuinely happy with who I am. I don’t need to be the biggest and the baddest. I’m content with myself, and I think Willo someday will be, too.

It feels like a bit of a stand-off as we stare at each other. I suspect from the look in his eye that we’re both hoping the other one will cave. That our competition will just admit they can’t hack it, acknowledge the other one is the better orc, walk away, and save us all this trouble.

But because we’re both so convinced that we’re right and the other is wrong, neither of us is willing to give in. And that leaves us here, at this impasse. With me waiting uncomfortably for him to accept my terms, because I don’t see a better option at the moment.

Finally, he does. He unclenches his arms from their crossed position on his chest, sticking one out to shake. “Fine. We’ll both just leave it to her. She can see whoever she wants, whenever she wants. No arguing.”

I have to work really hard to keep the smile off my face, so that I don’t look too eager when I return his handshake. “Deal.”

10

WILLO

Damned orcs, why does every single thing just have to be so complicated with them? It’s not like I told Duma or Yamarz they had me exclusively to themselves. If they’re beating the shit out of each other right now then that’s on them.

“Fucking men… All the same, no matter the species,” I groan to myself. Still flustered with embarrassment, I march to the gates, eager for some time alone away from everyone in this damned camp. As I storm through the exit, the perimeter guard on duty takes notice of my departure.

“Where do you think you’re go-”

“I’m going to pick herbs!” I yell without looking back at him. From the corner of my eye, I see the guard reeling back in shock. He’s speechless as I stomp away, seemingly knowing better than to bother me some more. At least one person around here has it right.

I reach the edge of the forest where I look back over my shoulder at the camp. It’s at that moment I wonder if I’m overreacting but I know I’m still in need of space. It’s too hard to get a hold of solitude inside that damn place. It always feels like some orc is breathing over my shoulder.

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