Slowly, he stepped into my view and looked down at me. My eyes widened at the dark brown, nearly black, gaze that pinned me in place, which made me instinctively want to look away. I knew those eyes. He was the orc who had saved me, the towering warrior who had strangled a dùthragh with a single hand.
Up close, he seemed even larger—a mountain of muscle. The thick leather armor he wore looked strained against the breadth of his chest and shoulders. His hair, black as midnight, was shaved at the temples and braided at the crown with bone and ivory beads, framing an angular, striking face. Tribal tattoos swirled across his arms and neck, disappearing beneath his armor.
I let my eyes roam over his body, searching for any weakness. He clearly wasn’t an ally—he had brought me here and bound me. Below the waist, he wore a paneled leatherloincloth that left his thick, tattooed legs exposed. I quickly snapped my gaze upward, careful not to see more than I should. A deep, jagged scar crossed his left eyebrow, and a gold hoop dangled from his septum, matching the rings in his ears.
Despite his intimidating presence, I felt no real fear, only a wary caution. I knew the power his hands held.
One arm was bandaged—the one the beast had bitten. He watched me in silence, expression unreadable, gaze traveling over my features as if cataloging them, lingering a fraction too long on my fangs.
“You’re awake,” he said in Common. His accent was lighter than the healer’s, but still present.
I swallowed the sarcastic retort that rose to my lips. Now was not the time for games, not while I was tied up like a beast for slaughter.
“Why am I bound?” I growled, straining against the ropes that bit into my wrists. “I demand you release me!”
He arched an eyebrow, a slow, almost lazy gesture that showed me he wasn’t impressed. With the pace of someone who had all the time in the world, he pulled up a stool and sat, leaving his face mere inches from mine. I tried to put some distance between us, but the restraints held me captive.
“What’s your name?” he asked gravely.
“Release me, and I’ll tell you,” I attempted to bargain, but he didn’t so much as blink.
“Your name.”
“Brusak,” I cursed him under my breath.
He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes unreadable. “Orok nir okshakai[2],” he said. I caught only the last word.
I shook my head, my frustration mounting. “I don't understand you.”
A crease appeared between his brows. Then, he returned to his original inquiry with the same incisive calm. “Your name.”
I exhaled sharply, surrendering more to exhaustion than to choice. “My name’s Fiona.”
“Fih-na?” He repeated it, testing the pronunciation. With his accent, the vowels felt thick and unfamiliar.
I rolled my eyes. “Fi-o-na. Fiona!”
He watched my mouth as I spoke, studying the word as it left my lips. Then, with uncanny precision, he echoed it: “Fiona.”
My name had never sounded quite like that. The orc remodeled it, making it sound as wild as everything else about him.
“Yes,” I said finally, my brow still arched. “Now, untie me.”
“Where are you from?”
My heart skipped. That question was dangerous. Dark eyes seemed to cut straight through me, and I feared he could read the truth in my gaze. Lyraen—the neutral lands between the courts—was split between Ceilte and the orc clans. The Okshai were the largest and lived deep in Eldaerenth, but others roamed deeper in the mountains: the Kruhar, the Makohr, and the smallest of all…
“Oguk,” I said, the lie slipping out before I could stop it. “I’m from the Oguk clan.”
Chapter 7
“Oguk?” he repeated, as if testing the lie between his teeth. I could almost hear the gears grinding inside his head.
Even though my heart was fluttering like a trapped bird and a cold sweat trickled down the valley of my breasts, I held my ground. Lies only work when they are told as truths that no one would dare to question.
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “From Oguk.”
He leaned closer, bracing his arms on the wooden table where I was bound. The sudden closeness made my heart leap, his forest scent growing stronger. His face hovered just inches from mine, our breaths nearly mingling in the cramped space.
