The orc crossed his massive arms over his chest, tilting his head. “Why does it matter?”
I nearly pulled my hair out. “Because it’s intimate!” I said, trying to keep my voice down and failing miserably. “It’s… It’s private! It’s my business.”
He blinked again and let out a low sound that resembled a thoughtful grunt. “But I’ve already seen your breasts.”
“I know!” I nearly screamed. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to keep looking!”
Silence fell. He seemed to weigh my argument, and after a moment, he nodded. But instead of leaving the hut as I expected, he simply turned his back on me.
“There,” he murmured. “Change.”
My mouth hung open. I could hardly believe the level of sheer obtuseness this male possessed. Did he truly think simply turning around was enough for me to feel comfortable? I debated arguing further, but I was far too exhausted. Keeping one eye glued to his back, I took the bandage and, after a few clumsy attempts, fashioned it into a sort of halter top. A good portion of my midriff and arms remained bare, but at least my modesty was intact.
My other problem was the remains of my dress, now little more than a filthy rag. The bandage wasn’t nearly enough to cover anything else. Using my claws, I tore the fabric apart until I could knot it into a short, frayed skirt, then secured it with another bandage tied around my waist like a belt. It wasn’t the height of fashion, but it would do until I found something better.
“Fine,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence. “I’m dressed.”
When he turned, his eyes traveled over the makeshift skirt and top. “It was better before.”
My cheeks heated, but I decided to ignore him.“Great. Now…” I took a step forward, summoning what was left of my dignity. “I’d like to know your name.”
He looked at me with that inscrutable gaze again. “I’m Malek ‘o Melk’or, the Ruk’hai of the Oksha clan.”
Malek Strong-Axe.
Ruk’hai. Leader.
My blood turned to ice. I was standing face-to-face with the leader of the Oksha. The most infamous orc in all of Lyraen—a male known for being utterly ruthless to his enemies. I was in the hands of Ceilte’s number-one enemy. Merith’s curse had delivered me directly to him.
I would have laughed if it weren't so tragic.
Chapter 8
After he introduced himself, Malek led me out of the hut, and only then did I finally lay eyes on the largest—and most feared—orc clan in all of Lyraen.
I had to admit, the sight was… very disappointing.
Whenever I had heard tales of the Oksha, I had imagined a huge territory teeming with orcs sharpening their war axes, training in blood-soaked combat pits, and plotting which kingdom they would pillage next.
What I saw now, however, was a far cry from those dark fantasies.
The village was nestled deep within the forest, shielded by a towering wall of Elanil trees, their twisted trunks rising like black spears aimed at the heavens. Fences of barbed wire coiled around the perimeter like jagged thorns, adding a secondary layer of protection. The dwellings were modest wood-and-wattle structures, their low roofs seeming far too small to contain the massive orcs who moved through the central yard.
Contrary to the monstrous warriors I had expected—covered in scars and dragging heavy weapons—the orcs before me wore simple, functional garb. Some carried heavy sacks across their backs, while others repaired fissures in the cabin walls, hammering with precision.
But what truly brought me to a halt, my jaw practically hitting the floor, was the sheer number of children running around. They weren't small in the way a High Fae child would be; they were easily the size of a High Fae adolescent, yet they possessed chubby faces and eyes bright with the kind of pure innocence only a child coul hold.
Their hair was different from the adults' as well, worn at medium length, but devoid of any braids. Every one of them shared that same midnight-black shade as Malek. They played and laughed without a care in the world. Looking at them, no one would guess they belonged to a people whose reputation had been forged in violence.
“What is it?” Malek asked, and only then did I realize he was standing right beside me, his gaze fixed on the same spot as mine.
“I…” I blinked, scrambling to gather my thoughts. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so many children in one place.”
It was true. High Fae took an eternity to have children. Generally, we waited at least fifty years before even considering the idea. Sometimes even longer, as was the case with my parents. Both Alasdair and Laurelin were over a thousand years old and only had children after four hundred years of union. My father hadn't sired a single child with his previous partner.
The logic was simple: enjoy centuries of freedom before deciding to procreate, since we had all the time in the world. Apparently, the Okshai didn’t share that philosophy.
Malek arched an eyebrow, giving me that same ‘Hm, is that so?’ look. I was being reckless. Clearly, orcs didn't think like High Fae, which meant Oguk must be similar to Oksha. I should have kept my mouth shut.
