“T—orichalcum can’t be forged by just anyone. Beyri was one of two, and now I am one of one.”
Neither of us can look away. I’m struggling to remain neutral, but I’m quickly losing my ability to hide what I’m feeling.
Silence stretches between the three of us and I know that I should look away, but I can’t.
I can’t. She’s everything I imagined she’d be when she was healthy and well-fed and grown. From the corner of my eye, I see my father’s hand darting toward her. A low growl rips from my throat as I intercept his hand before he can take her wrist. His bones creak beneath my grip and I meet the absolute shock in his eyes with a fury of my own.
Touch her and die.
One side of his mouth pulls up into a knowing, humorless grin.
“Be careful, son,” he rumbles quietly. “Humans don’t fuck well. They break too easily, but perhaps you’d like to figure that out on your own.”
She withdraws, her face paling.
My father jerks his hand from my grip. “Come. Let’s feed our guest. Take her weapons at the door.”
Spinning on his heal, he strides across the room, leaving me alone with her. Her chest rises and falls with tight control and some of the color has left her face. Finally releasing the sword, she moves slowly away from me, eyeing me as if I’m going to stop her. Several guards are still at their posts, and I can’t risk them overhearing anything damning.
“You’re alive,” she whispers.
I haven’t been this alive since you escaped. “This way, human.”
Alta takes another step away. “I’m not going with you. Return me to my guards. I’ll stay with them until the king is ready to meet with me.”
“You can’t refuse the king.” Lowering my voice, I offer her a hand and splay my fingers in a gesture for her to come closer to me. “Alta, come with me.”
Scoffing, she eyes my hand warily and reaches for the knife at her hip. “I don’t trust him, and I don’t trust you. Take me to my guards before I slice you like a fish.”
Chapter Four
Mybreathcomessofast that it’s hard to breathe. He’s alive! Tor’s face is remarkably different from the last time I saw him, but I would know him anywhere.
It took all my willpower to maintain my composure when he walked across the throne stage and down the stairs. I saw him from the corner of my eye and knew immediately that it was him. Focusing on the king’s face is the only thing that kept me from throwing myself into Tor’s arms or crying at his feet. The joy I feel at seeing him again is indescribable.
But I’m also afraid.
Being so close to him again reminds me of all the childhood promises we made to each other, the dreams we shared, and the fantasized future we planned with each other. I promised myself to him. My lonely, broken, desperate teenage heart promised to bind to his one day in marriage. He’d coaxed the promise out of me, but it wasn’t manipulation. I knew I wanted to be his wife when we were older. It just seemed so fantastical and impossible that it felt silly to agree to such a thing. An orc and a human! Such a union would never be allowed, especially between the Orc Commander’s son and a human slave.
Tor begged me to give voice to my deepest desire. So I did. I promised myself to him.
Facing him now reminds me that the desire is still very much alive. Slight tremors course through me. I’m nervous, frightened, and exhausted, but also filled with so much elation. I could equally weep and dance around the room. He was my childhood hero. The orc that saved me from loneliness and desperation. But he’s also a reminder that if I were to truly give him my heart, I’d be trapped inside the King’s village, always looking over my shoulder. Always on guard. Never free.
This clan of orcs stole my freedom from me once, and I’ll be damned if it happens again.
He’s wounded because I won’t take his hand. So much about him is different, but not his eyes. Their big, brown crystal pools of emotion that he never hides from me. Right now they’re filled with confusion and sadness, and he thrusts his hand at me again as if I missed it the first time. I just threatened his life, but he ignores me.
“Alta. It’s me. Nothing has changed in the way I feel about you. Come, share a meal with my father and me. I’d like to hear your proposal.”
His voice is a mere whisper, but I hear every word. And I want to believe him so badly. But I don’t know Tor the way I used to. Ten long years have separated us and we’re not children anymore. I observed how he interacted with his father. Tor stood his ground, and clearly isn’t afraid to face off with his father, but I sense he also doesn’t hesitate to please him, either. I don’t know where Tor’s loyalties lie.
Tor may have put up with me when we were younger because we were both lonely and needed someone. He’s grown now and I have no idea what kind of influence has molded and sculpted the man he is today.
“I don’t believe that nothing has changed between us, Tor. And I meant it when I said that I don’t trust you.”
I might as well be stabbing my blade repeatedly into his heart. His brow furrows, as if he just can’t understand my resistance.
He lifts his chin and looks down his nose at me. I sense his internal struggle, but I can’t be confident I’m the one causing it. He could consider killing me right now for all I know, weighing the consequences. Measuring the feasibility of doing it now versus later. Considering if he’ll use a blade or his hands.
