Page 2 of Shared By Two Orcs

She squeaks indignantly, even more embarrassed by the attention I am drawing. I don’t mind it. As I lift the pickaxe above my head, curving my back, heat pools in my stomach when I see how many of the men have stopped working to watch me bring it back down.

Ciiro, too, has always chastised me for how openly sexually I am. She says that to be pretty is dangerous and to be inviting is worse.

But I’m aware that, despite my manual work all day, I have nice curves down my body that catches the eyes of most people in the camp. I guess I am lucky that the orcs aren’t supposed to touch us.

Though sometimes I see them in the training area, shirtless and sweaty and I can’t help but wonder…

I drop the axe, reaching for my water. My thirst has suddenly become too much, and I remind myself that now is not the time for such thoughts.

I haven’t admitted it to anyone, even Jinnow, but it’s one of the reasons that I needed away from Ciiro. Not only was she worried about me fending for myself because she believes that I am incapable of doing so for some reason, but she was always way too into my business.

If I came home late, she wanted to know where I had been and with whom. If she caught me flirting with some guy at the canteen or giving a guard a look, she’d usher me home.

What fun is it being in a camp where everyone has incredible stamina if I can’t capitalize on it?

I huff, not realizing how silent the mines have been until now. Jinnow and I rarely pay attention to others, often spending our entire shift talking and laughing – and getting yelled at for it.

But…there has been only silence all afternoon. I just haven't noticed it until now.

Slowly, I turn to look at Jinnow, whose eyebrows are pinched together. “Is it…”

“Oddly quiet,” I answer, turning to look around us.

My eyes scan over the miners still at work, though some are looking around. Usually, Milug is marching up and down between us, shouting at us to get back to work before he buries the pickaxe in our head.

Truthfully, he’s all bark and no bite. I don’t say that to his face since he’s an orc and that’s practically the harshest insult that I could deliver. But I know that Milug doesn’t really mind us. I’ve caught him suppressing a grin as he watches Jinnow and I cut up too many times.

But I don’t see him anywhere. In fact, I can’t say that I’ve noticed any orcs down here all shift. Which is…odd. They like to remind us with their imposing presence that we have no freedom, no room to flee or otherwise try to live our lives.

Not that I ever really stopped.

“Just get back to work,” one of the guys, Robert, I think, hisses. “It’s been pleasantly quiet besides you two. Don’t fuck it up.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but he’s instantly back to striking his stone. I wave my middle finger at his back and grip the handle of my pickaxe.

Bent over, I feel a prickling sensation run up my body. It’s almost like someone’s eyes are on me. And if that’s the case, I might as well give them a show.

Smirking to myself, I curve my back, push up on my toes, and lift the pickaxe with such precision, you’d think it’s an art instead of manual labor. I make sure to swing it back enough that my chest is arched out, accentuating every part of my body as I slam the axe into the rocks before me with perfect form.

Only once it has struck, I toss a look over my shoulder to see who it was watching. Out of everyone, I don’t expect to find a pair of yellow eyes assessing my body. Thick black wavy hair down to his shoulders and a brutal scar down his left cheek only accentuate how fine this orc is.

And then there is the matter of his size. Holy Maws, all orcs are beefy, but this guy is massive in all the best ways. He nearly has to duck to fit in the tunnel and is so broad that his shirt strains to stay on him.

My mouth waters as I stand up straight, his eyes never leaving mine until I twist to face him. And then the orc drops his gaze down my body, running the length of me and back up.

Heat runs through me, making a slight sweat break out along my skin, and when he finally gets back to my face again, a slight grin jerks his mouth up to one side.

Holy fuck.

2

YAMARZ

“Yamarz!”

I grunt under my breath, contemplating not even bothering to turn around. I’ve just finished the morning shift in the mines and I want nothing more than to go to the training area. My body is always tense, wound up too tightly, and it is the only time that I am able to release all my pent up energy – and clear my mind.

The gods know that it’s not a place I want to be so active.

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