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I wanted Ewan to have that chance. But I wasn’t going to commit to staying in Battleborn Village if ‘twas not the right place for him.

When we reached the shore, Maardok clasped the forearm of the male who’d ferried us across, murmured a few words, then turned to begin loading his broad shoulders with our bundles and bags. It seemed impossible that he could carry the same amount the horse had, but I shouldn’t have worried. He was the strongest male I knew.

He held my hand and I held wee Edan as we slowly made our way toward the center of the island and Ewan scampered about, exclaiming at the plants and slugs of Islay.

“Is your village like the one we stayed in last night?” I asked Maardok quietly, adjusting the babe on my shoulder.

“Larger. Better protected. Ye’ll see.”

“Nay, I meant…” I swallowed, my gaze locked on the well-worn road we walked down. “Humans living with orcs. In harmony.”

“Aye!” He seemed surprised I asked. “I thought I told ye so? ‘Tis no’ uncommon for a male to recognize his Mate—the ones the gods chose for him—as a human female. Some are stolen from their world, others come willingly. Like ye.”

Mate. He’d said that once before, when he’d dismissed the possibility of the babe I carried being sired by him. I placed a gentle kiss on the peacefully sleeping babe’s forehead.

“And when an orc and a human…Mate, they have children?”

“No’ all the time, but ‘tis the only way such a thing is possible.”

He seemed uncharacteristically hesitant as he glanced at me, then explained.

“Battleborn Village has many children—human, orc, and mixed blood. When a male child is born to an orc parent and a human parent, he will call the orc side to him, and look more like my kind.” We both glanced down at Edan. “Like him. When a female child is born, she will look more like her mother.”

So it had been inevitable; when I birthed this babe, everyone would have known his father was an orc, whether it had happened in town or here on Islay.

“Cataline.”

At his gentle call, I forced myself to meet Maardok’s gaze.

“These children, the ones who carry mixed blood, represent the future of our races. They are born to Mated pairs, and they will keep our bloodlines alive.”

I felt tears pricking at my eyes and glanced ahead once more to hide them. An orc could sire a child on a human female, so why had he doubted the possibility? Mating often led to breeding; ‘twas the entire point of mating, aye?

Maardok was a good male, but I didn’t understand how I was supposed to just accept this new world without my doubts.

You are just being stubborn.

Nay, ‘twas not stubbornness to worry for my sons’ futures or hesitate to accept everything I’m told.

You are just exhausted.

Aye, now that I would believe. Everything ached. This was the farthest I’d had to walk in days and everything in my body felt swollen and unfamiliar.

Then we crested a hill and Maardok sighed.

“Home.”

Ewan barreled into his leg, and he grunted as he staggered slightly, then straightened.

Maardok gestured ahead. “See, lad? ‘Tis cozy and safe and full of new friends for ye.”

He was right; I could see it even from here.

Below us, in the center of the valley, there was a freshwater loch with an island not too far from land. Buildings of stone and brick rose from that island, and a wooden causeway connected it to the shore. Around that shore, dozens of homes ranged in tidy rows, some with neatly fenced gardens out front, some with grazing land, some with connected outbuildings.

The cottages had been painted cheerful colors, and since it had not yet begun to snow here in the orcs’ world, the frost-bitten gardens were still visible. Smoke rose from nearly every chimney, and despite the gray skies and cold wind, scores of people bustled about, carrying baskets or weapons or merely chatting as they walked.

“My home is on the far side,” Maardok said quietly. “I’d hoped ye would share it with me for as long as ye’re willing.”