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There is safety in numbers. The Blighten will not come here, at least not in the near future. Ashe punished them a year ago when they dared to come with war in mind. I do not want to live with the threat of the Blighten again, nor risk my child growing up under an orc warlord’s tyrannical rule. But nor do I like the increasing malevolence that permeates every level of the pack. Yet how could a simple village life ever be for us?
“But where?” I feel myself choke up. “You’re an orc and a shifter, and I’m a human. Where could we ever go?”
His sudden stillness pricks at my misery, and I lift my head to look down at him. I feel tears sting the back of my eyes as I see how he does not meet my eyes.
“You’ll be better off without me,”he says.
I shake my head, “No, Doug, no. Never believe that, never. They were foolish words spoken hastily.”
“You spoke the truth.”
I feel sick as a sense of coldness grows between us. “Please say you will never leave me, Doug. Please, I cannot be without you. Our babe cannot be without you. I love you.”
“I will not leave you,”he says fiercely, drawing me down again and wrapping me up in his arms. But I sense his reserve, how he is now thinking himself unworthy in the way he used to when we first met.
I have broken down his walls over time. But now, with a few careless words, I have erected them again. “I’m just scared for the future,” I say. “A part of me wants to flee, but a part of me is also afraid to flee. I don’t know why Ashe doesn’t challenge Travis. I wish he would, and I feel wicked to seek the death of a man.”
“We cannot know his reasons,”Doug agrees.“But Ashe is his own man. Perhaps he will never challenge Travis. And perhaps, if he does, he will fall, for a battle is won as much in the mind as it is in the physical world.”
Only it is a different battle taking place in the mind of the white orc I love, and I have unwittingly armed the other side with my careless words.
As we hold each other, I lie awake. I don’t know how to fix this, only that I must.
ChapterFour
Jasmine
The next day, I wake up early, my eyes puffy, only to find that Doug has already left. There is no warm place beside me, which tells me he has been gone for a while. I rise, turn up the lamp, and pad over to the stone shelf where an old, chipped pitcher and basin rest. Here, I wash my hands and face and then slip on my simple dress.
If I could take those words back, I would. I don’t know how to bridge this gap. The trouble is my words were the brutal truth. It is difficult for us to make our way outside of Blighten lands when I am mated to an orc, but that does not mean I wish to give him up. He saved me. He is my Doug.
My hand settles on my belly, which as yet shows no hint of the babe inside. I wonder what our little one will look like, thinking that it would be easier for them if they looked human, and how sad that is when I consider all the abuse Doug suffered because he never fitted in with the Blighten, the cruelty as a direct consequence of his own mother’s orders. There is no way to fix the past, but I can do better for our child, and I know I shall love them unconditionally and however they might look.
I wish there was a place where we could go and just be ourselves, where we would be accepted.
We are not the only ones who suffer prejudice. Even the lesser shifters and the humans do not fare well in this pack. At least they have other options, although leaving is not easy when you have neither coin nor food. We are all trapped here, in one way or another. I am perhaps more fortunate to have a strong mate to protect me and our babe.
Doug and I will get through this so long as we have each other.
But I have a strong sense that a tumultuous time lies before us.
As I turn toward the door, I notice that the sack Doug uses to hold his few possessions has fallen from the hook. I crouch down and pick it up. As I do, a thin strip of leather falls out.
My hand stills before I slowly pick it up, noticing the intricate markings carved into the leather, a pattern that is not quite complete all the way around.
I have seen such items before. They are collars. Not the hideous iron collars given to bondservants, but the kind that orcs give to their cherished mates or pets.
Doug is making this for me.
My body softens with tenderness, and I sink to my knees and cry.
I do not cry often, but it is like the breaking of a dam as all my fears collide into a potent cocktail of misery.
Doug is making this forme, taking what little time he can between his duties.
But will he still give it to me now?
I cry twice as hard.
