Chapter One
Two years later in the trading town of Creede:
“… AND THAT BRINGS me to why I requested our friends and family come to this wonderful trading town of Creede. I hereby proclaim my last mating for two little girls who insisted that one day they wanted me to force two males in my clan to take them. A grandfather can’t help but listen. So, it is hereby announced that my eldest grandchildren are hereby mated this day. Bakog, to the precious Shalia. And Tok, to the beautiful Hisa. Males, my word is final. Do your best with what the clueless orc gods dealt you.”
Brachard, King of the West Mountain orcs, is silent after that proclamation and next to me, his grand-daughters, Shalia and Hisa, start giggling.
The entire ceremony, based on a human wedding, is rather ridiculous and I start laughing along with my childhood playmates.
“Great Goddess Metanya,” I swear to Shalia. “Did he really just side with the males and tell Bakog and Tok they’re shit out of luck?”
“He did.” Hisa grins from the other side of Shally.
“To be fair, they are,” Shalia agrees.
Shalia had been abducted by a rogue clan and her memory was just becoming normal after several moons. It seemed they’d hit her in the head to knock her out. They were dead now, two of the males by her hand, and the other three by Brachard’s rule once they were captured.This visit to the trading town of Creede was to re-introduce her to the market we’ve grown up with… and obviously, to allow Brachard to mate Shalia and Hisa to the males they’ve loved since childhood.
While Tok and Bakog come to claim their brides, my father comes to claim me. There is no male for me, and never shall be.
But just then I notice an orc—a stranger—dressed in the clothing of the Southpeak clan. It isn’t very often we do business with them, but that isn’t the reason why I stare.
He has a cruel, handsome face. Sharp cheekbones, and his bottom lip is fuller than the top. A narrow nose, slightly off-kilter, like it’s been broken. And while the flaw should make him unattractive, instead it shows strength and character. It makes him interesting. His tusks gleam brighter than most, which shows he hasn’t been exposed to rich, staining foods. Or, he cares about his hygiene.
He’s a striking male and he’s fixated on me too. The entire world disappears and we’re the only two left. We stare for endless moments and a zip of awareness charges through me, an ancient knowledge that I know this male… or I did. In another life, mayhap.
Then my father tugs my hand and I tear my attention from the stranger. Father leans down to place his forehead to mine and whispers, though with all the clamoring going on around us, I doubt anyone can hear.
“Ahh, my sweet, ‘tis one day I shall be in Brachard’s shoes, I imagine. Giving my precious brat to a male who doesn’t deserve her.”
“Nay, daddy,” I say, using the human word as I tear my focus from the intriguing orc. Many summers I spent with Hisa and Shally, who are both half-human, and with my father’s friend, Joanna, who is full human. English slang is as familiar to me as orcish. “I only have eyes for you.”
He sighs. “I know. You and me against the world. I’m a hard male to live up to. But one day, sweet pea, you shall want a family. Brats to call your own and mayhap a smelly old brute to warm your furs.”
He’s smacked upside the head by Shalia’s mom, Joanna. “You did not just tell her males would be old and smelly! No wonder this child wants to remain in her father’s house,” she chides, then hugs me tight. “Negan, my love, look at Bak. At Tok. They haven’t yet smelled.”
“Give them a few more years, Joanna,” my father huffs. “You know I keep no secrets from my brat. I mean, look at your own male. Don’t tell me he doesn’t stink.”
My Uncle Latsil narrows his eyes. With the deep scars that cover him, he looks terrifying, but my uncle has the heart of a marshmallow.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, winking at my uncle to soothe his ruffled feathers. “I have no intentions of mating. Not ever.”
They all know I have my mother’s genes in me. At the one and only pregnancy she had, she dropped me off at my father’s doorstep and left. I’d never turn my back on a wee helpless brat, so I’ll make sure there are none by avoiding the male seed.
Not that I have them breaking down my doors. But at least in Solaya, I have access to Mag’s tea to prevent pregnancy. Though, admittedly, it’s been a long while since I’ve needed it. Mayhap I need to replace the jar I have. Surely its potency is expired.
Next to us, Bakog speaks loudly, introducing Shalia to someone. I’m barely aware of when he tugs my arm to get my attention. “And this is Negan. Her father, Oshin, with the Blackheart clan. This is Varguk of the Southpeaks.”
Varguk is his name. The intriguing stranger.
My heart thuds in my chest when he turns his focus to me. He’s just as striking up close. Bigger, and stronger. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him, just pure muscle.
“Southpeaks?” My father studies the male. “I heard your clan helped bring Shalia’s abductors to captivity.”
“Aye. Rogues hiding in our territory. We handed them over.”
That deep, panty-melting voice makes me whip my head around like I’m possessed. And hoo-boy, but what a body is attached to thevoice. Rugged features, pure male. He’s massive, six and a half feet, his muscles look as if they’re honed with a sharpened blade, his brows heavy and winged. He’s moved closer now and his nearness makes my mouth go dry. His eyes are deep, dark glistening pools fixated on… me.
That doesn’t happen too often around my father.
