“You don’t,” she whispered, “truly think Ulfarr candefeatyou, in twelve days. Do you?”
There was more silence, in which it occurred to Maria that until this very moment, she’d somehow been thinking of Simon as invincible. Untouchable. That he was obviously so strong, so powerful, that surely he would easily overcome any foe. Surely no one else would ever defeat him, andsurelynot Ulfarr. Right?
But beneath her, Simon’s shoulder jerked a shrug. “Mayhap not with his fists,” he said finally. “But defeat wears many faces, ach?”
Oh. Maria could only seem to blink at him, swallowing hard, her fingers widening over the bare, bloody skin of his chest. Over where she could feel his heart, hammering wild beneath it.
He was —afraid?
And in this moment, clutched close and naked atop this massive, thoroughly bewildering, blood-covered orc, Maria again —understood. Knew his thoughts, in perhaps the same way he sometimes seemed to know hers. Knew the fear, the regret, the many faces of defeat.
There were no words, suddenly, only Maria’s fingers spreading wider against his still-pattering heart. And her face, her mouth, easing up to his cheek, and pressing a soft kiss to the stubbled, blood-crusted skin.
Simon’s eyes fluttered closed, so Maria did it again, kissing down toward his jaw, his ear, his neck. Tasting the salt of his sweat, the copper of the blood, the deep richness of orc, of powerful male, of hunger.
He swelled inside her as she did it — he’d still been there that whole time, just like Maria had perhapswanted— so she kissed harder, lingered longer, let her teeth scrape against his torn-off ear. Feeling his gasp now, the almost imperceptible tilt of his hips, his heart slowing to a smoother, steadier drumbeat beneath her spread-wide fingers.
“Good,” she whispered, into the hot scent of his neck, into the drag of teeth on skin. “Now fuck again?”
And when she pulled back to see his face, her reward was there, waiting. In the sparkling heat of those black eyes, in the slow, crooked little smile. Helikedit. Heapproved. She wassafe. For now…
“Ach, my pretty one,” he said, so soft, as he drew her down for a kiss. “Again.”
23
Maria slept long and deep that night, tucked close into Simon’s powerful form. Safe in the easy thud of his heart, the steady snores from his mouth, the awareness of his half-hard bulk, still hidden deep within her.
And when she finally awoke, blinking into the quiet darkness, there was once again a whispering, solid certainty, settling into her bones. Into her heart.
She was doing this. She would face this. And this time, it wasn’t just for her freedom. It wasn’t for revenge. It was… to seek a better way. To help Simon, in saving the Skai. To show him, and all his kin, that humans could be worth it. That they could be trusted.
So when Simon awoke, and rose to light the lamp, Maria got up too. Following him over to the shelf, where she carefully reached out, and turned around that carving to face them again. The big, smiling, barrel-chested orc. Simon’sfather.
“He looks very kind,” she murmured, studying his carved stone face. “What was his name?”
“Sjovarr,” Simon replied, just as quiet. “He was a good father to me.”
Maria jerked a nod, and attempted a smile up at Simon’s face. “Will you tell me about your other carvings? Please?”
And to her vague surprise, Simon actually obliged. Resting his hand carefully atop one carving, and then the next, as he spoke their names, and their importance to him. One bulky orc was a close childhood friend, Arnthorr, who’d been killed in battle. The slim, angry-looking orc was Joarr’s father, who’d apparently raised Simon after his own father’s death. And the tall, haughty, voluptuous woman, staring at them with imperious, half-lidded eyes, was Simon’smother.
“I no met her, that I remember,” Simon said, his voice very even. “She ran away after I was birthed. But my father said she looked thus. Tall, and proud, and lovely.”
And looking at this woman’s harsh, haughty face — this woman who’d abandoned her ownson— Maria felt a horrible, visceral clutch in her gut. Gods, how had Simon borne this with her, when she’d sworn to do the same thing to his own son? No wonder he’d kept her his damned prisoner. No wonder he’d been angry with her.Ashamedof her.
“And how long have you been learning to read?” Maria asked, too quickly. “I noticed all your writing exercises?”
She waved helplessly toward the stack of papers she’d tidied, and Simon’s gaze flicked there too, his shoulder shrugging. “A few moons now,” he said. “Most Skai no learn this as orclings, but now we seek to mend this, with the help of our Ka-esh kin. This shall help us with these new ways we seek, ach?”
Right. Because Skai had only learned to fight as children. And without knowing how to read, how would they ever embrace this new future? These words, whispers, perceptions?
“That’s very wise of you, Simon,” Maria said, belatedly, with another attempt at a smile. “Very clever.”
His glance down toward her was deeply suspicious, his brows knitted tight together. And perhaps Maria should have taken the hint, and stopped the questions there — but already there was another one, jostling even louder than the rest.
“Are you… all right?” she said, searching his eyes, and then angling a glance toward all those marks on his wall. “Doesn’t it… bother you? This… Enforcing?”
Simon was quiet for an instant, his brows still furrowed, and though Maria braced for his retort, it didn’t come. “Ach, some,” he said finally. “But in this, I seek truth. I serve my kin. I serve Skai-kesh. I keep safe those who are weak. I honour the truth behind my fathers’ ways.”
