But the grandson of the West Mountains did owe me a boon. How it went awry so fast is beyond me.
My father expects me to mate the Blackheart’s daughter to create an alliance between our people. I’m sure he wants the alliance as insurance, since the West Mountain orcs are so powerful. But of course, with them, the marriage was not guaranteed. Naturally. No male would ever promise the daughter of another clan away. So technically, Bakog followed through by allowing me to be at the mating where I met Negan instead of misleading me to believe he’d give her to me as a mating contract. That Levi thought to sneak in weeks earlier and gain his way in through the human female who sells in the market never occurred to me.
Just as I didn’t expectthe bridgeto be beautiful. To stand tall and strong and yet somehow still appear delicate and graceful. To handle her father with ease andunconditional love.
Unconditional. What would it be like to earn that love?
The thoughts confuse me. This is a job, nothing more. A chance to prove to my king I could strengthen the clan. An alliance with the Blackhearts? Our status would be right up there with West Mountains.
But I should have known Levi was listening when I approached Bakog. Had overheard the whole conversation and thought to infiltrate my plans.
He disappeared nearly a week earlier. Now I know he was in Creede, schmoozing his way into the trust of the human female who is somehow related to the West Mountain clan. The female that the maidens visit each summer. Inserting himself into her life, angling for an invite to guard her house and home by seeking a weak spot.
Knowing the mate of Bakog was taken from there.
Everything fell into his lap. Until he threatened Negan and I saw red. Mayhap the female didn’t understand the threat, but any Southpeak would. My brother isn’t known for loving females. He enjoys hurting them. When he said she would have preferred him? He meant in bed because he thinks females want him because he is the king’s son. The rightful heir. He gets countless bedmates, or did until the rumors of being hurt got out.
I’ll never let him hurt this wild, gorgeous orc. She deserves to be unbroken. To always speak her mind.
“Quit wiggling,” the female says.
“Ice is painful,” I grit.
“Stop being a wee brat.” She rolls her eyes and I have an urge to play it up more. Mayhap… to flirt with her.
After all, that’s what I should be doing. But knowing I should do it and wanting to are two very different things.
“Females in my clan would kiss it better. Not torture a male with even more pain.”
“You’re asking me to kiss a bloody, swollen lump of eyeball?” she asks, an elegant brow arching.
Her eyebrows are amazing. So delicate. Graceful.
“Would prefer if you kissed the injury of my lip instead,” I whisper.
And is that a delicate blush that hits her cheekbones? That darkens the light green tint of her skin? Aye, this female is stunning. Should be a queen.
She doesn’t respond, but takes the ice cube and gently rubs away the blood on my mouth.
Finally, she says, “You’re a bit numb, orc. You wouldn’t know what to do with a kiss right now anyway.”
I’m left in stupefied silence. She would consider it, then?
With… me?
She takes the napkin, wet now from the melting ice, and cleans the rest of my face.
But then I’m aware of the noises around us—of Bakog, whispering husky words as he kisses his mate. Of the other male, Tok, doing the same to the female in the peach gown.
And of the others making their way through the various tables. Her father, looking our way from across the yard with a scowl on his face.
“Thank you, m’kirn. I’ll get back to my position.” I slip away from her touch and assume my spot near the trees.
She’s safe with her family present. My services are needed when they leave. Besides which, they will not want me intruding on their mating feast.
“Varguk.”
I freeze halfway across the way, turning slightly to look over my shoulder.
