I’d been bluffing, of course. But the bluff paid off. The young orc blew into his curled fist one more time, then motioned for me to follow him.
The caves were a warren of twisting tunnels. The walls were ridged with fantastical texture, only partially shaped by hammer and chisel, with some spots left just as nature had carved them, while the floors were worn smooth. And the stone itself was surprisingly warm under the soles of my bare feet.
When we turned the final corner, I caught sight of Kof in his chamber. Daylight knifed in from a hole in the cave ceiling, but the rest of the cavern was in deep shadow. The divan was empty, and Kof was lying on a thin mat on the floor. His spear waswithin reach and his blind side was to the wall, in that pervasive orcish vigilance they practice. I broke into a sprint, startling my guard, and I was lucky I didn’t end up skewered. Even if I had been, I might not have noticed, not with Kof so close.
He was about to launch into a defensive position, but then his nostrils flared. He smelled me.
He knew me.
“Leave us,” he said to the young guard as he stood, deliberate and slow, to tower over us both. Though he didn’t raise his voice, it was low and filled with grit, and something else…something deep and melancholy.
The young orc was eager enough to go. Soon his presence was nothing more than a tromp of hasty footfalls echoing down the corridor.
And then I was alone with Kof.
Time stretched as we stood there, staring at each other, until finally I had the courage to blurt out, “I want to stay. Here. With you.”
He smiled faintly, a sad smile. “If only that could happen.”
“Archie lives here, with the shaman. And you’re the captain—surely you could demand a human of your own—”
“That’s not how it is, Eli. I don’t make demands of the shaman. I serve him.”
“Fine,demandisn’t the right word. But you could ask—”
“Eli,” he said. I would never tire of the way he spoke my name. “You shouldn’t hope for more than tonight.” That stoppedme cold. He hadn’t said it with cruelty. If anything, it sounded like regret. “If I could give you more, I would.”
A silence settled between us, thick with all the things he wouldn’t say.
There was a bundle of cloth on the floor. “This was sent along before you, and now I see why.” He picked up the bundle and gestured toward the trunk. “Sit. Let me see to your arm.”
As he approached, he unwound a long strip of clean linen—and caught a tiny glass vial that tumbled from the folds.
“Medicine?” I asked.
He chuffed humorlessly. “No. Just one of Archie’s strange human notions.” He turned the vial in his massive hand. “The truth always comes to light eventually—and people tend to know more than you realize.” He held up the bottle for inspection. “Like this. Archie not only knew you wouldn’t bind your arm as you were told—but that you’d end up here.”
Given that Archie had practically led me there by the nose with his innocent questions about freedom, I wasn’t surprised.
Kof uncorked the vial, dipped a finger in the oil, and worked it gently across the muscle of my shoulder.
I winced as his thumb traced the injured joint. The heat of his skin and the sting of my injury blurred together.
“I should’ve tended this sooner,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. And then, in the wake of the burn, rose a blessed numbness.
Kof’s huge hands were surprisingly gentle as he bound my arm to my side to brace my shoulder. The stiff linen was rough against my skin, but the care he took warmed me more thanany hot spring ever could. As Kof tucked in the tail of the linen, I caught him by the wrist. He stiffened, but didn’t pull away. Slowly, reverently, I reached up to touch his face. My fingers traced the lines of his jaw, ridiculously broad and sharp, nothing at all like the sea captain’s thick beard. A muscle worked in Koff’s cheek, but he endured the caress. I moved my hand up, brushing over his cheekbone and then, with infinite care, I let my fingers trail over the scarred eye socket.
His breath hitched, and I thought I’d gone too far. But then he closed his eye—the one that still saw—and leaned into my touch. It was a small surrender, but it felt monumental.
“Telling me not to get my hopes up,” I said softly as my thumb gently stroked the rough skin around his scar. “If you’re trying to scare me off, you’re gonna have to do better.”
He opened his eye and looked at me then, really looked at me. The vulnerability there was almost too much to bear.
I pressed my lips to his in a tentative kiss, pouring all the reassurance and tenderness I could muster into that simple contact.
Orcs don’t kiss each other—not because the gesture was taboo, but because the two sets of tusks won’t allow it. Kof was willing to let me lead, though he responded slowly at first. Cautiously, even, like someone testing the edge of a wound. And then... something changed. The kiss deepened—not just in hunger, but in weight. He’d chosen something in that moment. I just didn’t know what.
His tongue plundered my mouth. It tasted of stone and moss, like green forest and wilderness. As it prodded into me, big and strong and most definitely not human, a fierce wave of desire washed over me. I was grateful for the loose fabric of thebreeches they’d given me, which concealed my body’s response. But Kof’s breath blew over my cheek as he scented me, and I realized that my arousal was no secret to him.
