“Whoops,” I said innocently as the stew sloshed over Droko’s jiz.“Clumsy me.Let me wipe that up.”
I peeled off my linen tunic, grateful to be rid of it in the stifling heat of the caves, and swabbed up the mess on the floor before it attracted any of those hideous spiders.“There.All set.Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m utterly exhausted.”And that big cushion in the middle of the room was the only comfortable surface I’d seen in weeks.
Droko was looking at me like I’d just grown a second head.“But—you—” he stammered.
“I what?”
He made a vague wanking gesture.
Worried about me not getting off?Unexpected.And unexpectedly sweet.
“Don’t worry, that’ll keep.”Most paying men didn’t care whether or not I was satisfied, after all.So, I’d had plenty of practice at denying myself.
I curled up on the cushion while the shaman pulled on his leathers and settled on the floor, flat on his back, with his hands folded over his chest.He looked eerily like the petrified men I’d found deep within the caves, the ones with the strange writing and the sharp sword.I considered Droko by the light of the mostly-shuttered lantern, how his strong brow and thick jaw were looking not just familiar to me, but desirable.And I thought about how empowering it was when I made him come utterly undone with nothing but a few filthy ideas and the smallest sweep of my tongue.If there’d been any question as to whether or not he wanted me, that doubt was put firmly to rest.
Eventually, my hard-on ebbed, though the ache of want in my belly lingered.Those things I’d said about finding a way to be together were just words.Something to push the shaman toward the brink.But like any good lie, it held a grain of truth.If the herbs couldn’t cover our tracks, a blast from the Great Whale surely would….
Nope.I sighed and rolled onto my back.Not gonna go there.This dalliance could never be more than a quick fling.Inside these caves, Droko might be the head honcho.But even he had rules to follow.Rules he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—break.
Besides.I was only a few stairsteps away from escape.
And yet….
The noise he’d made deep in his throat.That small, broken sound.I’d done that to such a magnificent creature.Me.And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to try it again.Yes, a few more hacks at the stone wall would let me slip off into the night and find my fortune outside these caves.But I hadn’t yet felt the big, strong shaman’s arms around me…and surely I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.
The room was warm and the cushion was soft, and despite my restless thoughts, I fell into a deep and satisfying slumber—
Only to be woken by the deep rumble of an orcish voice.“No…no….”
Droko’s head jerked side to side in his sleep as his eyes darted around beneath closed lids, but the rest of him was locked down tight.Back in Wildwood, when I was between brothels, I once stayed with a guy whodidn’tfreeze up while he was dreaming.I took such a battering from his flailing limbs that my friends thought he was beating me.Luckily Droko didn’t act out his dreams.If he did, no doubt he could do some serious damage.
“Hey.”I reached down from the cushion and gave his shoulder a shove, and he rolled to his hands and knees.He was halfway standing before he even realized he was awake, grabbing at his belt like he was trying to draw a sword.“Droko, stop!You’re dreaming.”
He flinched visibly, then straightened and shook himself out.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he snapped.He was eyeing the wall as if he wasn’t quite sure it could be trusted.
“Bad dream?”I asked cautiously.“You can tell me.Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”
He barked a humorless laugh.“I’d never give a dream any power over me by voicing its nonsense.”
Wow, that was a far cry from Taruut, who loved regaling me with tales of his nocturnal wanderings—ramblings where he could still walk…and see.Guess they did things different in the Two Swords Clan.
“Nonsense or not, I can’t help but wonder what orcs dream about.”
Droko strode over to the decaying tapestry and gazed into the threads.I didn’t think he was about to answer, so it surprised me when he said, “The walls were on fire.But not.See?Nonsense.”
“Well, itisawfully hot in here.Maybe you were just incorporating the steamy atmosphere into your dream.”
“It wasn’t that.It was more about…the way the walls looked.Glowing orange.Like theywerethe flame.And in the distance, thunder.But I knew the coming rain wasn’t enough to stop me from burning alive.”
Before I could say anything to put his mind at ease, someone pounded on the stone door.“Enter,” Droko said gruffly.
Kof, the chief of the guard, came in and folded to his knees.“Droko the Sage, my spear is yours—”
Droko motioned impatiently for him to rise.“Yes, what is it?”
