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“Answer her!” Brachard snarls.
“Nay,” Doparth says quickly. “Stug made it up.”
“Then what is my name?”
He shrugs.
I guess it is Shalia, then.
“I was never Stug’s mate, was I?”
He shakes his head.
“And how did you get me?”
“We saw you in Creede. It was obvious you were a half-breed. You didn’t fit in with the humans, how could you? You looked different, wandering through the town on your own. So, we gave you a better life.”
He says it like I should thank him.
“We thought we did good,” Shogun says. “No one was looking for a missing female. No one asked if anyone had seen a missing human or orc. So, we left with you.”
“And by saying you gave me a better life, you mean someone snuck up behind me and smacked me in the back of the head? With what?”
“Stug used his mace.”
With the way another cautious look passes among them, I’m not sure it was Stug. But I imagine he’s an easy one to blame since he lies dead in the dirt.
“We will skewer these males,” Brachard says. “Not only did they dare to steal one of West Mountain’s own, but they played games with her head? Big mistake. No one touches a member of my royal clan! Tie them up. Put them in a bag like trash, along with heavy rocks. And drop them into the river from the highest cliff.”
I stand frozen as males rush out to do his bidding.
“Come here, cara’jek.” I don’t realize how much I craved hearing his voice, but I melt at the sound. Bakog pulls me close, wraps me in his arms, holds me tight. His palms cup the sides of my face as he kisses me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“Not telling you I was mated.”
“You were never mated to him, gi anyasa. You were always mine, from the day you were born. They tricked you into thinking you had a different life, but that’s all it was. Trickery.”
I scrub at the bridge of my nose, even though I’m well aware the marks will never wash away. “Everyone who sees me from other clans will know what these are.”
He takes my hand and pulls it away from my face. “They are tattoos. Nothing more, nothing less. They make you beautiful”—he runs a fingertip down the bridge of my nose— “draw the eye to this cute little nose.”
I’m still ashamed to wear them, but maybe bangs will help.
My eyes, blurred with tears, threaten to spill over when I say, “I love you.”
His mouth hums against mine as he murmurs the same.
My real father, Latsil, approaches. “Ye did good, girl. Made me proud.” He opens his arms.
I hug him and when his arms come around me, I get the same feeling I always do in my dreams of these orcs. Safety. Happiness. Love. This is all now mine for the taking.
I suck in a deep breath.
He smells so wonderful, mint and pine. The clean scent of soap. I remember once being so angry that I couldn’t go on a trip with him. That he was leaving for Serenity in the spring. He decided to surprise me with a trip to Creede instead, leaving me with Aunt Rosemary for the night while he tended to business there. And when he gave me the present, the tiny nametag that said Rosemary’s Trading Mart, my mouth fell open and I uttered one word.
