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“It is second nature to me to disguise my scent,” retorts the orcress. “Do you not also do so when you are hunting? Otherwise, the prey may smell a predator and keep well away.” She glances at me and meets my eyes for a moment before looking back at the wolf leader. “As for why my mate and I do not smell alike, did I not just tell you he has been injured? Close to death. Do you couple with your mate when they are close to dying?” She says the words arrogantly, tossing his arguments back in his face. I almost smile at her belligerence, which closely resembles how she has been treating me recently, although we are outnumbered and it would be unwise to provoke the wolves. She certainly is not low on spirit.
Surprisingly, the man’s smile goes a little more genuine, as if he is enjoying the orcress’ insolence. “So you did,” he replies agreeably. “Be that as it may, you cannot stay here any longer. Resources are scarce and my alpha has commanded that I remove the interlopers. So your choice is to leave or die.”
At this statement, one of the other wolves, a large gray one, growls angrily and suddenly shifts to his human form, also nude. Are we to have a whole semi-circle of nude bodies?
The new man interjects, “The alpha commanded that wekillthe interlopers, not let them go. You cannot go around changing orders like that, Cronin.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” chides the first man, Cronin, “the alphaimpliedthat he wanted me to kill the interlopers. He said,removethem, and I can do that without getting my hands dirty. Besides, these are both skilled warriors, or are you too stupid to tell? We have lost enough wolves to attacking the humans and orcs on the alpha’s orders lately. I do not want to lose more.”
“You have recently attacked humans and orcs? Together?” I ask.
Cronin looks at me curiously. “Yes. Our intelligence says that thehuman kingdom and the orcs have become one. We often see patrols of orcs now on this side of the border.”
So Adrikdidlose the war and became a part of Orik. I always thought that is what would happen, even when the war first started. But to hear it from a source that knows for certain . . . it means that even the smallest hope I had of Adalind being alive is gone.
When I don’t respond to Cronin’s words, he claps his hands together and says, “Well, this has been fun, but I do not wish to waste anymore time on you. I give you until sunrise to be gone from our borders or I will return and with enough wolves that there is no way either of you can survive.”
With that, he leans down and shifts into a giant black wolf, bigger than all the others that are around us. The other man follows suit, turning back to the gray wolf. The black wolf howls and with that they turn and run into the woods, leaving me alone again with the orcress.
We both stand, side by side, our backs to the cave for a while longer. Though neither of us says a thing, it is easy to tell that we both do not trust Cronin’s words and are waiting to see if they come back. After such an ultimatum, it wouldn’t be out of the question for them to try a sneak attack. When minutes pass and nothing happens, we both relax at the same time, rising from our crouched and ready positions.
The orcress turns to me and holds out her hand, “Give me back my knife.”
I consider her hand for a moment, each green finger tipped with a black claw, and then step back a few steps.
“I don’t think I will.”
Her eyes narrow, her face contorting into a mask of rage. “Betrayer! You gave me your oath!”
Still stepping back, I put down my hand, holding the knife loosely at my side and say, “I swore to fight beside you in the conflict with the wolves. The wolves are gone. And I am not going to just letyou tie me up again.” I keep the knife down so that it is not threatening. I don’t want to goad her into a fight; in fact, I don’t want to hurt her. She saved my life and even though she has been my captor, she has taken care of me, healed me, not tormented me. But I cannot stay with her forever and this is the first chance I’ve had in weeks to escape.
She growls in annoyance. She would almost be cute in her frustration if she weren’t so dangerous. “Human double-talk! This is why you can never trust a human!”
“Then why do you want me as your mate?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“I don’t want you!” she explodes. “I never did!”
Something about her words bothers me, though I do not care to examine what. Instead, I say back calmly, “That can’t be true, or you would have let me die at the fort.”
That brings her up short. Her knife dips slightly and she no longer holding it at me threateningly. Then she lets her hand drop to her side like mine and stands up straight. “Fine,” she says, her voice slightly dull, “I have wanted anAsh’kaall my life and when all I knew about you was that you were a skilled warrior of honor, I let myself believe I wanted you and didn’t want you to die. But now that I know you are only filled with vengeance and spite, with dubious honor at best, I know that fate didn’t reward me with anAsh’ka. It punished me for some crime I have yet to understand!”
I have never been told that my honor was dubious.At best. All my life I have been told I am too serious, too honorable, not good at playing the games of court. I required lessons as a child to even learn how to lie. This is what she thinks of me? I shouldn’t care. She is my enemy and my jailer. But somehow I do. I owe her my life and though she has never spoken of it, I know at least some of what she gave up when she deserted to save me. It was great indeed. And I suppose though we must be enemies, I want her to. . . I don’t know, respect me? See me as a foe worthy of her esteem?
My feelings make no sense and while I struggle with them, she continues, “I have thought many times of just letting you go. I have no need for anAsh’kathat I must convince to be with me. But if I do, you will go after my king, an orc I respect and admire like no other. And if there is a human alive that could kill Rognar, it is you.”
Rognar? She addresses her king without honorifics? Sherespectsandadmireshim? Was he her lover in the past? Jealousy, almost out of nowhere, cuts through me, deep as a knife, confusing my feelings further. But I cannot afford to untangle them. I am actually almost afraid of what I may find.
So instead, I change the subject. “You cannot be thinking of tying me up again. The wolf said that we needed to be out of their territory by sunrise. He did not specify what that territory was. If it is the whole Deep Wood, then we will have to set a grueling pace to be clear of it by then. I cannot do so hobbled.”
The orcress shoots me another annoyed look, but then her eyes go considering. “I will not tie you, then. But I will have my knife back, whether you aim to give it to me or not.”
With those words, she darts forward, and I can barely keep her from grabbing the knife. I jump back and hold it high above my head, though she is only a couple of inches smaller than me. She lunges for it and her lithe body comes into contact with mine, every inch of her pushed up against me. She seems to realize this at the same time I do and stops reaching for the knife, locking eyes with me. Her eyes are unreadable and then, without warning, she kisses me.
I have been kissed before. Soft, loving touches, accompanied by soft, loving words. But the orcress is not soft, and she is not loving. She kisses me hard, like she is punishing me or conquering me with her lips alone. I am in shock, but in a moment I am kissing her back. What am I doing? I must be succumbing to some sort of madness,but gods help me, I cannot stop.
We kiss like we are sparring with lips and teeth and tongue. One of her fangs nicks my lip, hard enough to draw blood. This should be enough to dissuade me, but no, the madness in my veins pushes higher. It is as if all of my pain and frustration and losses from the past months are bleeding out of me into this kiss and hers are bleeding out of her in return. My manhood hardens in my trousers and my arms come down to drag the vexing orcress closer.
Then in a moment she is gone, pulled away from me through some mighty effort. We are both panting and looking at each other. Her eyes are dilated with desire and I am sure mine are much the same. Then she smiles at me, a genuine expression I have never seen on her face before. I saw her bloodthirsty smile in the heat of battle, of course, but it was nothing like this. This lights up her every feature. It is full of pleasure and triumph and when she holds up her hands, both her knives are in them. When did she take mine? I was so distracted that I didn't even notice.
