Rosa felt his hand before she saw it, the familiar warmth suddenly circling close and deadly against her bare neck — and it was enough to shock her into stillness again, sending the rest of the world scattering away. Leaving only this huge, vicious orc, lurching once more to stand before her, and — trembling.
And yes, he was actuallytrembling, his eyes blinking, his fingers quivering against her skin. And as Rosa blinked back up toward him, his other hand skittered up to echo the first, cupping her bare neck between them, in something that ought to have been thoroughly frightening — but instead felt deeply intimate, almost like reverence.
“I did not,” he said, his voice thick, “truly wish to frighten you, or harm you, or speak false to you. I did not wish to —useyou. I only” — he grimaced, those eyes squeezing shut, opening again — “I have never before — known aught, such as this, between us. I do not —understand.”
Rosa could only keep blinking, watching him draw in another rasping breath. “You vex me, woman, and confound me, and — andcallme, even when I seek to push you away. Thisweakensme, but” — his chest hollowed — “I ought not to unleash my anger toward you. It ought to be toward me. It is because I do not understand. I must needs —learn.”
As he spoke, those shuddering hands gave Rosa’s neck a little shake, almost a threat — but there was no menace in it, no fear. Only the urgent wild brightness in those black orc eyes, held so powerfully to hers, finally speaking his truth.
“I shall never forgive myself, should you come to harm, for my folly,” he breathed. “I wish you to be safe. I wish to care well for my” — his throat convulsed — “mypet. I wish to rule you with kindness, and gain your trust, and bring you joy. And mayhap even frighten you — but only in the way that you wish.”
The words had dropped to a whisper, quiet and deeply ashamed, soft enough that Jule — still standing beside them, surveying all this with her hands on her hips — might not have heard. But Rosa heard, and the cursed responding heat fired straight to her groin, and dragged a hoarse, broken gasp from her throat. Hispet. He wanted toruleher.Frightenher.
John’s eyes spoke the truth of it, his lashes fluttering dark and regretful against his cheek as his gaze blinked away, toward the wall behind her. But his hands were still circling her neck, with such careful stilted reverence, his claws so gently scraping against her skin. And in this moment, there was only this, him, his scent, his warmth, his truth.
“This shall please you, my sweet rose,” he breathed, his eyes again bare, ashamed on hers. “To stay here until you are free of my son, and until then, to be my fat, happy little pet. To see my library. To read my books. To learn more of my kin. To — to take your joy with me. Yes?”
Somewhere, far inside Rosa’s thoughts, was the realization that there were more orcs approaching, and that Jule was speaking again, saying something that surely echoed Rosa’s own rational brain, shouting deep within. But the longing was too strong, the ache almost overwhelmingly powerful, the bare, shameful compulsion to nod, to feel her throat move against the strength of his huge warm hands…
“No falsehoods?” she breathed, to those blinking black eyes, and he slowly shook his head, his fingers squeezing just a shade tighter. Still here, still safe, everything she’d ever wanted, a student, a pet, fear,truth, dangling, waiting…
She had three weeks. And she had to know. Shehadto.
“Then you need to prove this to me, orc,” she whispered. “Teach me. Startingnow.”
17
For an instant, all else pooled away, but for the echo of Rosa’s words, pinging against the stone walls all around.
Prove this, orc. Teach me. Now.
John’s dark eyes blinked at her, once, twice — and then, in a quick, breathless movement, Rosa was jolted up off the ground, and into his arms. Back in her place on his hip, his strong hand holding her easily against him.
He strode down the corridor with swift, firm steps, and without so much as a backwards nod toward Jule. But Rosa’s furtive, searching glance over his shoulder showed Jule looking almost satisfied as she stood there, a small smile twitching up her mouth.
“Just holler if you need help, Rosa,” she called after them, her voice carrying down the corridor. “And we’ll bewatchingyou, John.”
John entirely ignored this, and hoisted Rosa closer as he stalked around a corner, blocking Jule from view. It was completely dark here, without so much as a flicker of candlelight, and despite herself, despite everything, Rosa felt her face angling into his skin, breathing in his musky, sweet scent. And in return, she felt a slow, approving slide of his other hand up her shoulder, curving against her neck.
Gods. Rosa shouldn’t have shivered, but she did anyway, her eyes fluttering — and she didn’t miss John’s replying huff of grim satisfaction. But his hand was still there, still so warm and safe, his claws scraping soft against her skin as he walked.
He stopped within short order — perhaps sooner than Rosa’s traitorous clinging body might have liked — and he carefully eased her down onto the floor, before moving slightly away. And suddenly, there was light. Flickering to life from a steel lantern, set upon a solid wooden table.
And in the light, Rosa saw — alibrary.
It was a tall, spacious, rounded room, carved from the already-familiar grey stone. And the walls had actualshelvescut into them, circling all the way around the room, from the floor up to the high, vaulted stone ceiling.
And upon these shelves, there werebooks. Manuscripts. Papers. Scrolls. Not many, as Jule had said, not compared to what one might expect in a human collection — but they were neatly organized, and even a single initial glance already proved them highly intriguing. Unfamiliar bindings, unfamiliar materials, some fascinating-looking slabs ofwoodthat looked distinctly like tablets…
Rosa had already drifted toward the nearest shelf, reaching to carefully pull down a thick, elaborately bound book. And as she opened it, she gasped aloud, her eyes widening at the sight.
It was —beautiful. A work not unlike the little book she’d seen earlier, but this one was far grander in scale, full of intricate illuminations accented with gold leaf, and that same lovely, elegant script. Script that — Rosa gingerly turned one thick vellum page, and then another — had many repeated forms, and was studded through with charming little flourishes and embellishments.
“What is it?” Rosa heard herself ask, her voice hushed. “A devotional book?”
The breathtaking illuminations had already suggested as much, full of detailed, fantastical images of humans and orcs — and Rosa wasn’t at all surprised when John nodded. “It holds the ancient wisdom of our Ka-esh forefathers,” he said. “We study this from our earliest days.”
That was deeply fascinating, and so was the fact that there were a number of similar volumes shelved together. And once Rosa had carefully put the book back, and plucked out another, and another, she understood that the book Hanarr had shown her had been one of these, too. Each one slightly different, though they all seemed to begin with the same text, likely a prayer, or an incantation.
