She dragged her hands against her hair, fighting for breath, fighting to ignore the infuriating fact that neither her hands nor her head hurt anymore. Because no.No. This wasludicrous. Ridiculous. She could not be voluntarily going to Orc Mountain. And not with this orc, of all orcs. Not when he kept lying to her like this. Not after all he’d done.
Gods, this had been stupid. So,sostupid.
The orc had finally hesitated ahead of her, glancing warily over his shoulder, and Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, and stiffly made herself turn around. Facing back in the direction she’d come, and taking one unsteady step, and then another. She would go home. She would find another way to save her livelihood, to escape Roy and her father forever. There had to be some solution, some way she hadn’t yet considered. There had to be…
Until something gripped at her shoulder, strong and certain. Halting her firmly in place, and Gwyn felt her body sag against it, her eyes blinking toward the earth at her feet.
“If I only wanted garden,” the orc’s flat voice said, far too close, “I should have stolen this before you came, or whilst you slept. I should never offer youhelpin this. Ach?”
Gwyn’s swallow was audible, and she breathed in deep, wincing at the too-familiar scent of him swarming her nostrils. “But you obviously don’twantto help me,” she replied, her voice pathetically plaintive. “Youwantedme to refuse your offer. So why the hell did you even bother?”
There was more silence behind her, and she could feel his exhale, fluttering at her hair. “You showed me much… kindness, this day,” he said finally. “You no only kept me secret from this man, but you no eventouchedhim, also. You no tainted my scent with his. You had all right to do this, and yet, you…honouredme.”
Oh. Gwyn swallowed again, and then made herself scoff, the sound thick and hoarse. “And then I sucked you off,” she shot back, “and it was disappointing enough that you realized your mistake!”
The orc’s hand flexed on her shoulder, a low growl hissing through the air. “Irealize,” he countered, “you are yet daughter of Lord Anton. And now I am tangled with you, and my scent broods heavy upon you, with yet no trace of my son. And next I am bound to bring you to my home, and proclaim to all my kin who you are, and how I have failed?”
For a stiff, stilted instant, Gwyn stood frozen, digesting that — and then she whirled around to look at him. To search those dark, glittering eyes, which suddenly looked just as frustrated as she felt. Because yes, this orc had come to her with a goal. A mission. A plan. Gwyn had been a target, one he’d clearly invested in for some time.
And now she was… what? A public sign of his failure. A risk. Aliability.
“Well, surely even orcs understand,” she snapped, without at all meaning to, “that a woman’s pregnancy isn’t guaranteed after one isolated instance. Which, by the way, is sureneverto be repeated!”
The orc shrugged, his mouth curling in a faint sneer. “Mayhap,” he said coolly. “But we alsounderstandthat lord’s daughter in mountain brings great risk. Most of all when she has sworn no vows, bears no son, and knows she is a tool we wished to gain!”
Gods, thisorc, and Gwyn felt her anger sparking, her hands again dragging through her hair. “So becauseyou’vebeen spying on me, and trying to use me as your pawn,” she retorted, “you still thinkI’mplanning to do the same? That I’m coming to Orc Mountain to spy on you, and wreak my revenge upon you? And then I’ll run back and tell my father and Roy how you’ve kidnapped and tortured me, and urge them to gather all their horrid lord cronies, and come here to obliterate you at once?”
The orc looked at her for a beat too long, his eyes glinting — but then he shrugged again, cool and uncaring. “Why should you not?” he asked. “I have brought you risk and threat, for my own gain. In your place, I should also seek vengeance against me, without regret.”
Oh. So becausehewas a vengeful lying bastard, he expected Gwyn to be the same. And she couldn’t even seem to argue it, dragging her hands deeper through her hair — at least, until the orc’s brief, exasperated growl, together with a sharply disapproving look, made her drop them again.
“And I suppose it won’t do any good,” she said irritably, “for me to just tell you otherwise? To insist I have no interest in revenge, and I only care about saving my garden?”
“No,” he snapped back, “it shall not. No human care about garden this much. Humans care about own self. Care aboutown way.”
Own way. Those were her words, Gwyn realized with a wince, as the orc stalked a smooth step closer. “Even if you nowthinkyou only care for garden,” he continued, “this no always hold true, ach? Mayhap father or betrothed make new offer. Mayhap they pay for new way, if you help them against us. Or mayhap they bribe you, or press you, or bring new threats against you.”
Gwyn surely should have tried to argue that, but Roy’s actions of just that morning presented a strong deterrent, and the orc’s eyes flashed with palpable awareness. “Or,” he added, even flatter now, “mayhap my mountain or my kin bring you fear or anger, and you then seek vengeance. MayhapIfurther harm you, and thus spark this. Ach?”
Oh, so again it was abouthim, the asshole, and howhecouldn’t be trusted. And again, Gwyn certainly should have tried to argue that — but now the abrupt, incongruous vision of that incident in the garden was flooding her thoughts. How he’d been fully about to leave, before that whole stupid situation with her hair. How he hadn’t wanted to keep going, but he’d then been caught in it, perhaps, just as she had, and he…
“I nowishedto take your throat,” he said, his voice lowering, as if he’d precisely followed her thoughts. “I nowishedto know the truth of this, or what more you might welcome from me. Ach?”
His black gaze had briefly settled on Gwyn’s hair, and then dropped to her mouth, lingering there with unnerving intensity. Enough that she couldn’t seem to hide her shiver, or stop her tongue from flicking to wet her lips. An action which drew a brief, betraying hiss from the orc, before he purposefully looked away, his eyes frowning toward the trees beyond her.
It suddenly felt hard to breathe, to think, especially with that rich musky sweetness still flooding Gwyn’s lungs. Smelling perhaps even more delectable than it had before, and perhaps that was because sheknewhow it tasted, and…
“Very well, then,” she said, far too loudly. “We’ve established that you don’t trust me, and thatneitherof us can trust you. I’m glad that’s settled. Now” — she narrowed her eyes on his still-distant face — “are you going to take your offer back, or not?”
The orc’s eyes flicked back toward hers, and for an instant, they might have looked almost amused — but then they darkened again, his mouth thinning. “No,” he replied. “I shall not.”
There was a sensation much like relief in Gwyn’s gut, and she jerked a firm nod, raising her chin. “Well, then I’m not turning back either,” she said flatly. “So lead on, orc.”
The orc accordingly shrugged, and then spun and strode off again. While Gwyn quietly followed, her gaze oddly fixed to his still-stiff shoulders, his clenched-tight fists at his sides. The long, powerful-looking muscles in his back, shifting beneath his skin with every smooth, purposeful step.
He was — keeping his word to her. Helping her save her garden. Even if he didn’t trust her, even if she was public proof of his failure. Even if she would never touch him again — which she most assuredly wouldnot, because he was a devious lying asshole, he’d manipulated her, he’d been trying to ruin herlife, and…
“Are there,” she heard herself say, into the taut silence, “any other women at your mountain, presently? I’m quite sure I’ve heard tales…?”
