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The full moon was almost directly overhead when I arrived at the parade grounds. Otunga stands in front of the Shattered Rock, bathed in the glow of luminous silver from the moon. Most of the tribe is there, chanting and drumming, and asking our ancestors to bless the mating between myself and Laney.
I take my place beside Otunga. She nodded and even sort of smiled at me. It seems I have lost a bet with Rolar since her face did not shatter from the effort of doing so.
Then the drums take up a different cadence, a song from the human world. I’m not even able to pay any attention to the sound because my own heartbeat is too loud in my ears. I’m straining my eyes, looking to find the woman I love more than life itself. The woman who will now be my mate for real, instead of just as a convenient ruse.
The woman who is carrying my child. She has not shown any outward signs of it, but soon she will. Soon the tribe will know her stomach is getting larger by one. No more strife over succession.
But the truth is all I really want is to hold her in my arms again and make sweet, passionate love to her all night long.
Then I see her, a ghostly vision all in white. Her hair flows behind her, stirred by the night breeze in a silken sheen. My breath catches in my throat at how beautiful, how radiant she seems. Her smiling face makes me feel light as a feather.
The white garment she is wearing clings to her body as the wind blows it back. Her face is veiled by a thin, translucent, hazy material that doesn’t diminish the luster of her full red lips or shining blue eyes. In fact, it enhances them.
Laney is walking in front of her carrying a basket of flowers. She’s supposed to be throwing them into the air, but I notice that she’s deliberately pelting some of her friends from school with the petals. Well, I suppose Laney is going to be who she is, no matter the circumstance.
I take Paige’s hands in my own as we stand in front of Otunga.
“For as many years as the orcs have trod this land and many others, the union of two hearts, two souls, has remained our most sacred of ceremonies. Let this union be bound as tightly as the corded muscles in our chief’s arms. Let their children be as wise as their mother, Paige Holdfast, whose courage is legend.”
Otunga lifted her hands into the air.
“Under this moon, I declare these two worthy of each other’s love. Now, look into each other’s eyes, and speak to us all … do you recognize your one true mate?”
Paige and I smile at each other and speak in unison.
“Yes.”
19
PAIGE
“Yes.”
The word echoes in our hearts and minds as well in the ears of the onlookers at our wedding. Jovak squeezed my hands as the gathered tribe gave a great, jubilant shout. The drums start up like mad, matching the rapid beat of my heart.
“Well, we are now officially wed in the human tradition,” Jovak says, his green face stretched with the happiest smile I have ever seen.
“Not quite,” Laney says from nearby. “You haven’t kissed the bride yet. Duh.”
“She’s right, you know,” I reply with a wink.
“What a terrible oversight on my part,” Jovak says with mock severity.
“I know, right? So get over here and kiss me already.”
He grinned and then leaned in and took my lips in the most loving, tender way. Of course, then my body reminded me it’s been seven long days since it’s reared beneath his naked form, and I clasped myself to him. The kiss goes from tender and sweet to torrid in no time flat.
“Save it for after the party,” Laney says. “Sheesh, somebody dump a bucket of cold water on these two.”
I laugh, though Jovak grumbles. We take our place at the seat of honor, a pile of stones covered with thick animal pelts for our comfort. Young orcs bring us food and drink while the drums reach a new level of intensity.
The male members of the orc tribe take center stage on the parade grounds while the onlookers stretch themselves out into a wide circle to accommodate them. The dance is meant to show off their strength and agility. At times, the orcs stand in lines with military precision, clapping and stomping and chanting in unison. At other times, they whoop, holler, and leap around the parade grounds chaotically.
Once the men have had their turn, the women come out and do a sort of spinning dance, holding totems in their hands. I notice that the younger orc and human females seem to be wearing rather suggestive clothing. Many of them even go topless. I see why in a moment when the men return to the dance floor, pairing up with the women.
Their dance turns seductive and sensual, their bodies pressed together in a swirling, molten sea of fiery embraces. I drink from my glass, but it does nothing to cool me off. I turn and meet Jovak’s gaze and see that it’s burning just as hot as my own.
“How long do we have to ...” I begin.
