AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A more far-fetched story I’ve never heard. But one that works in my favor because I intend to infiltrate their coveted village. I will find the male who impregnated my mother... Brachard. And I intend to slaughter him while his clan watches. Just like I did the last king of my clan.
I will be known as Jogug, the king-slayer. There is nothing more important because with two under my belt, orcs will be wary of me. I will be able to live in peace... possibly on my own. Right now, it’s not probable. I need the males of my clan. But with the fear under my belt, I’ll command respect from them before heading out on my own.
Because I will never be shared by those biernaks.
“Perhaps I was raised in your village—”
He snorts. “Raised? You lived there up until a little over a moon ago.”
Now I know the male lies. But I play along.
“So, you and I know each other?”
“Did you find it curious that I kissed you?”
Not at all. The males in my clan try often to get into my bed, but I can’t say that.
“Mayhap,” I say finally, just to give him the idea I’m curious.
“’Twas not our first. When I saw you bathing in the river, I thought you were a true Blackheart. I waited until you got into bed. I was going to kidnap you and ask you what your clan knows of our missing maiden. My mate, though unofficial. But when I was that close to you, when you woke, I saw your face. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t resist.”
I don’t say anything because I know this is some kind of trick. West Mountains are a sneaky sort. Stug has told me over and over to be wary of them.
“You couldn’t help from kissing me, aye?” I ask, trying not to sniff the sultry male fragrance of his skin. I’m not sure why he smells so good, why I have the urge to inhale deeply.
“Nay. And I should be able to. I’ve refrained for years.” His arms tighten around me. “I was a fool.”
Still a fool but he’ll find out when I kill his king.
I fall asleep against his chest, lulled by the gentler sway. My hands are tied in front of me for comfort, obviously, because they’re loose. I could get out of them easily, but there’s no point in doing so. I’d show my hand, plus I’ll have to go up against a full-grown male. And I want to keep my skills under wraps so I can get to his village.
And in his arms, I dream. The dancing, the laughter, the familiar voices. But now they sound like the males from his clan and I wake saddened instead of happy like I usually do from the dreaming I always look forward to.
He and his people tainted my dreams. I’m well aware that the lies he tried to pass off are what triggered the morphing of my dreams into combining my faceless, indiscernible characters into those from his clan.
But the ending of the dream is the same.
Strong arms holding me tight, and warmth and the comfort of a heartbeat thumping beneath my ear. The spicy scent of him—pine needles. Rain forests, cinnamon even. We use it for something. We press it for oil, that’s it. And we coat small picks of wood to chew, leaving the taste behind as we clean our teeth.
As usual, I can tell the dream is ending.
“I want to stay,” I whisper to my dancing hero.
“Then do,” he says. “Never leave me. Shal-i—”
“Wake, Jogug.”
Dammit, what was the dream male going to say? Shall I what? In my half-dazed state, I look up at the dark eyes frowning down at me.
“Shall I what?” I ask him.
“Eh?”
“What were you going to ask me, orc?” Because, somehow, my confused brain has mixed up his voice with that of the faceless hero in my dreams.
“Shall I... yuh,” he drags out slowly. “It is your name. Shalia.”
That snaps me to full consciousness.
