Page 84 of Wed to the Orc Captive

Someone gave a whoop ahead of us, and other voices joined hollering, chanting. I didn’t know the words, but Vrathgar let out a breath next to me. Dawn edged the sky above the trees in red.

“We won’t travel far today,” Tyralk called, and I knew he used Common for my benefit alone. “An hour towards the kael, and we rest.”

Vrathgar spoke. “No one will see now.” He still didn’t look at me. “May I carry you?”

You already have the pack, I wanted to say. You already do too much. But maybe this was for him. Maybe this would assuage his guilt; maybe carrying me could convince him there was something he was good for other than killing. I could let myself be baggage for him. “Yes,” I answered. But as he cradled me up into his chest again, I knew I lied to myself. I was selfish. I wanted to be against him. To feel safe. To hurt less.

“We'll get through this,” he muttered. “I've got you.”

I didn't tell him that I dreaded every future where I had to let go of him. I just closed my eyes against his chest and dreamed.

RESTING PLACE

The rhythm of the hunt was simple. They slept in shifts during the day, moved in the early morning, and hunted at night. Tyralk wanted to be far away from the settlement before they let me try calling the monsters. And it was the wrong time of year, as we had been told. Day after day, we saw nothing.

Larrakh hung on the fringes, looking like she’d approach, responding to Vrathgar’s glares with silence.

“You know she saved my life,” I muttered to him, the seventh morning by the fire.

“She doesn’t get free-kidnapping chits to redeem with the quartermaster.” He handed me the water skin. “She is not flinching from unfairness. She knows what she’s done.”

Some of the tension was gone from his shoulders, his face. He did better out here than in the enclave, better in the open air.

“I thought she was like a little sister to you.”

“If you had a little sister, would you let her murder your wife?”

Tyralk was speaking to Nara across the clearing, tired. This expedition had been heavy on him. He expressed no regret for snatching Vrathgar away, but there was something hanging in the balance, some valor or position that he was giving up with each slow and gameless day we crept forward.

“You could talk to him,” I said.

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because you’re hovering over me like a mother hen. And because Larrakh wants to apologize, and she won’t while you’re here to bite her head off.” I shrugged one shoulder. I could do that much. “Because he needs to know that you forgive him, too.”

“That kid,” he muttered.

I fed a twig into the fire. “You are taking on disadvantages being married to me right now. You should take the benefits.”

“Which benefit is this?” There was no ire in his voice.

“I’m kin-keeping.”

He sighed. But he didn’t move. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he muttered. “With Larrakh.”

“She can’t drop me down another hole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His eyes bored into me.

“I won’t…I won’t bite her?” I tried for humor, but his demeanor didn’t break.

“I don’t want you to put yourself in positions where you’re afraid.”

Oh. “I think…I’ll be fine,” I said. It was strange, that something that had hurt me so badly didn’t seem like one of the things that had left me with extra fear. It was strange that I had echoes in my body every time I rolled over or had to relieve myself in the woods, but I was still more afraid of Todderick than of Khal’s much stronger baby cousin.

“I’ll let her speak to you,” he said. “But if she upsets you, start coughing or something, alright? I’ll come back.” He stood up before I could find the words to answer. I watched Tyralk’s eyes open with surprise as he approached and Vrathgar slap him on the shoulder, and then heard the younger one laugh, a better, less aching sound.

I felt Larrakh approach before I saw her. “May I sit?” she said, quiet.