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“What?”
“Your name is not Jogug. Your name is Shall-LIE-ya. You mutter it in your sleep. You think it is the beginning of an unfinished question.”
“Call me Jogug,” I say coldly, still angry that my dreams have been invaded. Infiltrated with his image. The dreams—they’re all I have. I don’t like that he’s able to change them.
The orc is quiet and my mood begins to dissipate as we dismount from his horse. The animal is beastly but shows a sweet side as he nuzzles against me. Silently, Brun hands me a carrot to feed him.
I feel badly that the side of the orc’s head has a lump the size of my fist. That bruising has begun to spider down his cheek.
And yet here I stand, loosely tied with cloth.
“I have dreams,” I whisper suddenly, unsure of why I’m trusting him. “Dancing and fires. Music and laughter.”
“Could be either place you were in last,” he says simply. “Home, Solaya. Or Creede, where you were last. You visit there during the summers because you love your Aunt Rosemary. I dropped you off myself, right in front of her house. It was the last time I saw you. When I heard you went missing, I went searching for you.”
“Since when do orcs live in Creede?” I mock.
He looks at me strangely. “Rosemary is human. She isn’t a blood relative to us, but we refer to her as aunt anyway. She’s the actual aunt to Abigail, Azorr’s mate. You met him earlier.”
His stories don’t matter to me but I don’t disparage them. Let him assume I believe them. That the orc has a human mate, as opposed to calling her a breeding mare. Let them continue to morph my dreams. My end goal is to get into his village, anyway.
And let’s see these little brothers they’ll try to pass off as mine. Children aren’t able to lie as easily as adults.
Slowly he unties me. I eye the blade strapped to his muscled thigh.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run?”
“Always.”
“Then why untie me?”
“So you’ll be more comfortable. Besides which, where you run, I’ll chase.”
“If it’s a night in the furs you want, you only need to ask.”
A thick eyebrow raises and I feel somewhat pleased that I shocked him. But surely, he notices how attractive he is? I’m sure the arrogant male has no lack of females in his bed.
My libido runs hot around this orc... until it begins to fizzle. It’s the look on his face, sort of sad.
I don’t like that. He shouldn’t look sad, he should look proud. Arrogant. Confident.
I know what will bring some joy back to him. “Tell me about your home life.”
“My mother and father were a love story from day one. My father’s clan was searching for a place to settle after the orc wars, long after we landed on this planet through the portal. We made camp in the forests between Serenity and Granby and watched the town of Serenity. In the meantime, my father, who was just a brat, found my mother. Her father was the leader of Serenity and she was alone a lot, so they played together. For several seasons, until one day my grandfather said they’d settle in the mountains and were moving. Then my mother fell sick and he never knew what happened to her, until one day my grandfathers teamed up for an arranged marriage.”
I snort. “They agreed to that?”
“Nay. My father refused. My mother refused. But when they met, my father recognized her as the playmate he had. The one he’d always missed.”
“And she did too?”
“Again, nay. That childhood illness? She’d forgotten her earlier years and had no idea she and my father knew each other. She was forced to stay with him, however, because a male that was jealous of their union decided to brand her as orc property. It got infected and my father nursed her to health.”
“And you were born,” I say softly.
“I was, beautiful. And when I was five, I became enamored with a little orcen brat who thought she was a fine princess.” He chuckles. “Seriously, you walked around on your tippy toes as you grew older, maybe two or three seasons, lifting your skirts in front so they wouldn’t drape the ground. You didn’t have royal blood by birth, but you were so dainty and feminine that one couldn’t tell you weren’t high born. My own sister, on the other hand, well, she was rough and tumble and dirty. Graceless. A clumsy oaf, her arms and legs too big for her body. You were still best friends.” His mouth twitches.
“Wait. Does she know you call her clumsy?”
