Ulfarr’s laugh was harsh, grating, horrible. “You aremine, woman,” he repeated, with deadly finality, as his huge hand grasped her wrist, dragging her further into the blackness. “You shall now forget him, ach?Forever.”
Bile rose in Maria’s throat, and she choked it back, while waves of sick misery surged through her suddenly shivering form. No. It wasn’t possible.No.
“No,” she heard herself say, thin, plaintive. “You’re lying to me. Simon wouldneverfall to the likes ofyou.”
And that was true, it had to be true, Simon was so strong, he’d worked so hard, he would keep his kin safe. And Maria fought for that thread of certainty, clung to it with everything she had, even as the memory of his words burrowed beneath her skin.
Defeat wears many faces. You ken this fight shall be easy, or fair?
The shudders were driving through Maria now, flashing in painful flares, bright enough that she could scarcely hold herself upright. Her eyes desperately blinking in the darkness, toward where she could feel Ulfarr’s awful presence, could taste the strength of his scent in the air.
Had he defeated Simon? And was he now defeating her? Theirson?
The bubbling panic kept blazing higher, threatening to consume Maria whole, because gods, this was bad. Very bad. She clearly had no hope of escaping Ulfarr in the dark, let alone in a tunnel as rough and unfamiliar as this one. And even if Gerrard had noticed her disappearance, he still wouldn’t be able to follow without light or support, and a public chase could alert an entire city of humans to the presence of orcs in their midst. And Joarr was back at Warmisham House, fully prepared to wait for however long it took, while Baldr was still stationed in the woods next to the estate. And the band of fighters Lady Norr had sent were waiting on Joarr’s orders, and surely they would be nowhere near here, wherever the hellherewas.
And Simon. If Simon was — if he was —
The vision of his bloody, broken, dead-eyed body flashed across Maria’s thoughts, and she heard herself moan aloud, her head frantically shaking. No. She couldn’t think of that.No. Think of Simon’s strength. His teaching. Hisapproval.
Listen. Learn. You are mine. Skai.
Maria seized for that truth, clutched it close, sucked back breath after choking breath. Listen. Learn. Skai.
She’d faced her husband. She could face this. She had to.
Her steps had stopped dragging behind Ulfarr, and he accordingly pulled her on faster, deeper into the dark. Surely intending to hurry her away, no doubt far from the city and Baldr and Joarr, from any hope of help. So that he could — what? Seduce her?Claimher? Seek to harm her son, orreplacehim?
The bile surged again in Maria’s throat, and she gulped it down, gulped for air. She would do this. Skai. Listen.Learn.
So she forced her flailing attention to the corridor all around her, rough and rocky and close, occasionally still scraping against her as she passed. It was markedly different than all the other orc tunnels she’d encountered so far, all of which had suggested some level of planning, of maintenance — while this felt stale and unused, perhaps temporary or abandoned. Which surely stood to reason that it couldn’t go on forever. Right?
Next Maria forced her focus to Ulfarr, to his pungent scent swarming her lungs, to the memory of his hideous face in her thoughts. To how —wait— he hadn’t been bloody, or bruised, or broken in any way. Had he?
No, no, he hadn’t. No blood, no injuries. And if Ulfarrhadtruly fought Simon today, surely he wouldn’t have walked away without a scratch.Surely. And if Simon hadn’t fought him yet, that meant…
It meant there was hope. Simon wouldn’t give up. Hewouldn’t.
So Maria kept watching. Kept waiting, listening, following Ulfarr with careful steps. Feeling the tension in his grip on her wrist, the urgency in his scent, the rapid pace of his breaths. He was rushing. Taking risks. Preoccupied, perhaps. Not paying attention.
And when he finally dragged Maria up and out of the earth, back into dazzling white light, she was ready. Ready to reach for where Ulfarr’s huge taut body was already pulling away, about to take her deeper into — her squinting eyes briefly darted around them — a forest. And judging by the position of the sun — something else Maria had begun to take note of, thanks to all those days travelling with Joarr — Ulfarr was planning to take her east. Away from Baldr and Joarr. Away from Orc Mountain.
He was running, then, coward that he was.
“Wait,” Maria gasped, as her hand grabbed at Ulfarr’s meaty shoulder. “Ulfarr. Please. Just a moment.”
Ulfarr whirled around to glare at her, the urgency bright in his narrow eyes — but in return, Maria smiled at him. Hopeful, rueful, with as much warmth as she could possibly manage.
“Look, I realize when I’ve been defeated, all right?” she said, her voice only slightly wavering. “But I still don’t evenknowyou. And you don’t know me. So before you do this” — she took a step closer — “can’t we at least get to know one another first? Like you offered back at the mountain?”
Ulfarr’s eyes flared with suspicion, but Maria ignored it, and instead took another step closer, her gaze steady on his, her shoulders as relaxed as she could make them. “Even just a little?” she asked, as she twisted her trembling hand sideways in his still-clutching grip, enough to stroke it against his bare chest. “I will admit, I do like big males. I like” — she drew in breath — “to be filled, you know?”
Ulfarr’s heart was floundering under Maria’s hand, his still-narrow eyes searching her face — but then his gaze darted, brief but telling, toward the west. Prompting Maria to lurch even closer, into his pungent scent, so that their bodies were almost fully touching. So that she could feel the telltale nudge of swollen heat, rising slow but true beneath his trousers —
“Just for a moment?” she murmured, spreading her fingers wider on the sticky skin of his chest. “I thought you big Skai boys liked to claim your hunts in public places like this? Make us spurt and squeal upon you?”
The suspicion sparked even higher in Ulfarr’s eyes, but he wasn’t refusing, and that heat at his groin was swelling fuller, larger. Nearly in the same place as Simon’s had been, around the same height, and Maria held his eyes, ground herself a little closer against him. Feeling it, learning it, stroking her other hand over her hip toward it…
And in a breath, a desperate prayer to Skai-kesh, her dagger-hilt was in her fingers. Gripped sure and close and familiar, as pure instinct flooded through her body. Steady her feet. Feel the earth, the strength in her torso. Turn the blade. Adjust her aim. And…
