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“If this is indeed your woman, then what is her name?”
Verrin still gives that fake smile when he looks down at me, his head seemingly as empty as the open skies.
SEVEN
VERRIN
“Shit.”
I hear Jenna’s voice, elevated and clearly unnatural, as I jump up and out of the bed. The floor rattles against my size, shaking various objects around the room. I search frantically, but the top of my head is nearly touching the ceiling. It isn’t likely that there would be any place I could hide successfully.
I know that orcs aren’t the smartest of creatures, but they are thorough and reliably violent. If they make it inside, they are sure to lash their way through the room, possibly injuring Jenna in the process.
Or worse.
I cringe at the thought of any harm coming to this human woman, and because I don’t have any time to assess why, I cast it away and scurry over to what looks like a long mirror.
The idea of cutting off a few orc heads excites me and would simply feel like any normal day back home. But there is someone else to consider, plus the possible humdrum of fighting that my presence would likely trigger.
I grumble in front of the mirror, the allure of violence as flavorful as the sight of Jenna’s shapely form beneath her clothing. I bring my hands to my face, trying to ignore the rise of rousing thoughts and press my fingers against my temples without thinking twice.
“Invisibillis,” I whisper.
When nothing happens, that unfamiliar surge of panic rises in my throat. I press my fingers harder, creating indents in my skull, staring into the depths of my own vibrantly red eyes.
I whisper the incantation again, but once more, nothing occurs. I gaze over my body, the dark glossy skin shining but in no way fading into the atmosphere the way it was intended to.
“That fucking statue,” I seethe to myself.
It is the only educated guess I can make in a flash of urgency, basing it upon both my lack of energy and inability to perform simple magical tasks. If I was invisible, I could climb out the window, watch the woman, investigate her intentions, and figure out why I am in this place … then get myself the fuck back home.
I hear the orcs push their way in, despite Jenna’s attempt at philandering them with her appealing ways. They are already destroying her homestead, which fills me with unrestrained rage.
“Those vile bastards,” I say through gritted teeth in front of the mirror.
Their footsteps are moving closer, as is Jenna, who continues to flaunt herself in a reasonable attempt at distraction. I’m sure it has worked before. She is rather enchanting. Orcs aren’t men exactly, but they do possess the same fatal flaw. Their maleness renders the majority of them hopeless in the presence of a bountiful and capable woman. Both of which Jenna seems to be in spades.
As she begins to move closer to the bedroom, my heart races in my chest, a strange sensation when not accompanied by excitement. But my fingers tingle, which means some of my faculties are returning to me.
There is no time to waste. I bring my fingers together in a triangle shape and mutter another previously simple chant.
The edges of my fingers spark a bright yellow, and with desperation, I press them harder together, gritting my teeth and hardening my jaw into stone. It takes everything I have left within me to cast the spell, allowing it to wash over me like a blanket of stars, stinging as every inch of my flesh changes in texture and aesthetic. Once the spell gets to my eyes, I feel them burn but suppress my grunts of agony until the transformation is complete.
The orcs have trampled into the hallway. I only have a moment to gaze down, breathless at my form, thinking that as long as I can hold this together, the orcs will surely depart.
I emerge from the bedroom, painting my gaze in that of a triumphant lover. When I wrap an arm around Jenna, I realize how small her stature is compared to mine. Her scent also returns to me, a flurry of comfort floating into my skin and settling in my chest.
For the time being, the orcs are convinced, even after I use a horrible excuse for my name. My muscles relax with relief, along with Jenna’s, which makes me want to place my hands all over her even more.
“What is your woman’s name?”
For a fleeting moment, her name escapes me. I start to panic a bit, then, when it rises on my tongue, she decides to complete the picture for the amusement of the orcs in front of us.
She uses her free hand to fire her hand backward, then launches a powerful slap onto my awaiting cheek.
“You, asshole!” she howls. “You don’t even know my name after all this time.”
The performance reviews are in instantly, with the deep chortles of the orcs’ laughter filling the dwelling. I rub my face, not just for the theatre of it all, but because she put some fucking power behind that slap, and itstung.
