Page 4 of Bewitching the Orc Chief (Silvermist Mates #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

OSEN

D amn Alris and his timing.

I grit my teeth as the shaman strode toward us. His staff tapped against the stone with each step, the sound echoing through my skull like a death knell. His cold eyes fixed on Miranda, and I fought the urge to pull her behind me.

“Who is this?” His voice slithered out of his lips with barely contained disdain.

The question wasn’t really a question—his tone made it clear he knew exactly what Miranda was. Human. Outsider. Threat.

Behind him, Uncle Coth’s weathered face twisted into a sneer worthy of his son. The elders who’d helped raise me, who’d guided my first steps in leadership, now looked at me like I was something rotten.

I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut me off with a sharp gesture.

“We will discuss her being here.” He frowned down his beaklike nose at Miranda. “In private.”

The shaman turned his back and strode toward the sacred cave, not bothering to see if I followed. The gesture burned like acid in my gut. Among orcs, showing your back was the gravest insult—a declaration that you considered someone too weak to be a threat.

Never mind that I now led this clan. Never mind that Miranda was my gods-blessed mate.

Whispers rippled through the gathered crowd. I caught fragments of “human” and “outsider” hissed between tusks. Even those who’d supported my leadership since Father’s death now shifted uneasily, their stares prickling across my skin like thorns.

But challenging the shaman openly would only make things worse. The gods had chosen him as their voice, and even I couldn’t defy that authority without consequences. One wrong move could split the clan, and we’d already lost too much.

Father’s words echoed in my head: A chief serves his people first. Personal desires come second.

I wrapped an arm around Miranda’s shoulders, drawing her close. The rosemary and citrus of her scent calmed the storm brewing inside me, even as I felt her tension. I pressed a quick kiss to her temple, trying to share strength and reassurance I wasn’t entirely sure I felt.

“Go on ahead,” I murmured against her hair, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Tell Thalia to give you some of the special reserve.”

I caught Torain’s eye with a silent command. Keep her safe. Keep her close.

My brother nodded once, subtle but clear. Message received. At least someone on this cursed mountain still had my back.

Miranda’s lips parted, probably to argue, but Torain smoothly inserted himself between us. “Come on. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Osen’s barrel-aged ale. Vanin—do you know Vanin?—will insist he taught us everything he knows, but I’m convinced he moved to Silvermist to avoid the competition.”

She cast one last glance over her shoulder, brows knitting together and lips pursing in that way that made me want to kiss the worry from her face. But she let my brother chatter on as he led her away.

Forcing my spine straight, I marched toward the clan’s sacred cave. That acid continued to burn in my stomach, but I refused to let it show. Showing weakness wasn’t an option—not with vultures circling, waiting for any sign of doubt.

The darkness swallowed me whole before spitting me into the inner chamber. The air hung thick with incense and old magic. Ancient carvings spiraled up toward the ceiling—stories of our people, preserved in eternal stone. Normally, their presence settled something in my soul. Today, they felt like accusers.

Alris stood with his back to the ceremonial fire, hands clasped behind his robes. Uncle Coth lounged against a stone column, lips curled in that familiar mocking smile that made me want to rearrange his teeth.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Alris didn’t bother turning around. “A human? Here?”

“My mate.” The words came out as a growl. “The gods themselves chose her for me.”

“The gods?” Now he did turn, eyes flashing. “You dare invoke them? After bringing that... that creature into our midst without even seeking counsel?”

“I felt the bond snap into place.” I planted my feet wider, refusing to be cowed. “You taught me yourself that mate bonds are sacred gifts.”

“Between proper matches.” He jabbed a finger at my chest. “Between orcs who understand our ways and our traditions. Not some human bitch you found in a tavern.”

Some human b—? Fury coiled hot in my chest, battling against common sense. He would eat those words. He would consume and shit and then consume again every disparaging thought that budded in his decrepit mind.

“She is my mate.” I forced the words past gritted teeth. “I seek your blessing for our handfasting.”

Alris barked a laugh. “You’ll have no blessing from me for such a union. Besides,” his thin lips curled into a smug smirk, “I’ve already arranged an alliance with the Storm Peak clan. Their chief’s daughter will make a proper mate. One I would gladly bless.”

Rage fought shock in my system. So that was the emergency that called Alris away? The sheer disrespect… To make secretive alliances without my knowledge? With someone I’d never shared a meal or a word?

“I do not want their chief’s daughter.” I bit the words off sharply. “I want Miranda.”

“Think of the clan.” Uncle Coth finally spoke up, pushing off the column. “We need strong blood. Pure blood. Can your little human even bear proper orc children? Or will she bleed out if she tries?”

The question hit like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t even considered... The image of Miranda round with my child flashed through my mind, followed quickly by doubt. Could a human carry an orc child to term? Would such a pregnancy even be possible?

It didn’t matter. We would be blessed, or we wouldn’t. Either way, I refused to walk this path without her.

“I don’t need an heir.” I lifted my chin. “I have a brother.”

Coth’s laugh held no humor. “The gentle one? He can barely stomach a proper hunt, much less lead a clan. Face facts, nephew.” He stepped closer, voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “Your father’s death should have taught you the price of defying tradition.”

Red clouded my vision. My fist connected with stone before I realized I’d moved, sending chips flying. Pain lanced up my arm, but I welcomed it. Better than the rage threatening to tear me apart.

“My father,” I snarled at my uncle, “was twice the orc you’ll ever be.”

“Your father was a fool!” Alris spat. “A fool to let the human authorities take one of our own for judgment. Now you allow their kind within our borders? Where does it end?”

The old argument rose like bile in my throat. “That warrior murdered an innocent man!”

“He defended our territory!” Coth roared. “As we have done for generations!”

“From a hiker with a map and a walking stick?” I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building in my chest.

My words still hung in the air when footsteps echoed from the cave entrance.

Soft footsteps, the brush of fabric, and that intoxicating scent of rosemary and citrus. Followed by Torain’s panicked whisper, “You can’t go in there!”

Miranda.

Her chin lifted as she strode into the firelight. “If you’re going to talk about me, you can talk to me.”

My brother shot me an apologetic look, but I barely noticed. All my attention focused on Miranda—the set of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders, the way her fists clenched at her sides. Gorgeous and furious and mine .

“How dare you enter this sacred space!” Alris’s outrage bounced off the stone walls.

Miranda didn’t flinch. She planted her feet and crossed her arms, meeting his glare with one of her own.

Then Alris inhaled sharply through his nose, and his face twisted with recognition. “ Witch. ”

The word reverberated through the room. Coth glowered. Behind her, Torain visibly paled and stepped back as though burned. But Miranda stayed where she was, still glaring daggers at the shaman.

“Dark magic taints her very blood.” Alris’s grip on his staff whitened his knuckles, the wood creaking under his fury. “I can smell the corruption on her!”

“You’re wrong.” The words burst from my throat before I could stop them. My mate wasn’t... couldn’t be... “Miranda would never?—”

“It’s true.”

Miranda’s quiet voice cut through the chaos like a blade. An angry red flush spread across her cheeks as every eye in the room snapped to her.

“I practiced dark magic.” Her voice stayed steady, but I saw the tremor in her hands. “I left that life behind.”

The ground lurched beneath my feet. Dark magic. My mate... a dark witch? The kind who trafficked with demons and stole souls? Who twisted and destroyed everything they touched?

No. I refused to believe it. There had to be more to the story.

“You see?” Uncle Coth’s smugness grated against my nerves. “She’s already lying to you.”

“I never lied.” Miranda’s eyes found mine, pleading for understanding. “I just... didn’t tell the whole truth.”

But the signs were there. Had always been there. The herbs hanging in her kitchen and the books in her living room. Were the beauty products she created truly natural, or did she add magic to the potions? And that unnaturally deep slumber, as if her soul had departed her body…

“Dark magic isn’t something you simply walk away from, girl. It marks you. Changes you.” Alris circled her like a predator sizing up wounded prey. “Tell me, witch, what brought you to our territory? What evil do you plot?”

“You know nothing about my soul. Or what I’ve survived to get here.” Steely words stabbed for the shaman, but her eyes never left mine. “I came here to start over. That’s all.”

The raw honesty in her voice twisted something in my chest. Could I have misunderstood her intentions so badly? But if she meant no harm, why conceal her identity? Why hide what she was?

“And bewitch our chief in the process?” Coth’s lip curled into a sneer. “How convenient.”

“Bewitch him?” Miranda scoffed, finally breaking eye contact. “Are you kidding me? I’m not even here willingly!”

“What else explains this madness?” The shaman’s eyes blazed with a zealot’s fervor as he addressed me, “You vanish into town and return with this creature, claiming mate bonds and divine blessing?”

Coth snickered. “Too busy thinking with his?—”

“Enough!” Power thrummed through my voice, making both men start. “You will show respect to your chief.”

“Our chief cannot allow dark magic within our borders.” Alris’s cold eyes fixed on me. “Surely you see that?”

My hands curled into fists. The urge to break his jaw warred with the cold dread pooling in my gut. Dark magic. The most forbidden of arts. The stories of corruption and destruction were carved into these very walls. Even regular witchcraft was viewed with suspicion, but this...

“Don’t worry,” Miranda snapped. “I promise not to overstay my welcome in your precious village.”

She spun toward the entrance, but Uncle Coth moved faster. He planted himself between her and escape, lips curling cruelly around his tusks.

“Shaman.” He didn’t even look at me as he addressed Alris. “Surely you won’t allow an admitted witch to wander freely among our people?”

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth creaked. I was chief, damn it. Not Alris. Not my uncle. Me . But they’d maneuvered the situation perfectly. If I defended Miranda too strongly now, I’d look bewitched. If I failed to contain the “threat,” I’d look weak.

And beneath the politics, my chest ached. Because whatever else she might be, Miranda was mine . My mate. The other half of my soul. Who snort-laughed at my terrible jokes and traced my scars with gentle fingers. And they’d forced me to choose between protecting her and protecting my clan.

“Miranda won’t be a problem.” The words tasted like ash. “She’ll keep her magic hidden while she’s here.”

Her head whipped toward me, hurt flashing across her face before anger swallowed it whole. “As the Chief requests,” she spat my title like a curse. “I’ll be gone as soon as I can walk back to Silvermist.”

“She must be contained.” Coth’s triumphant satisfaction made me want to ram Alris’s staff somewhere unholy. “Under guard and in chains. No dark magic will corrupt Grimstone while I have breath in my lungs.”

“I will take full responsibility for her actions.” The words burned, knowing how they must wound Miranda. But better wounded pride than whatever my uncle had planned. “She stays under my protection until arrangements can be made for her return to Silvermist.”

So, for always, and never.

Miranda’s bitter laugh cut through the tension. “Your protection ? Don’t strain yourself, Chief. I managed just fine before you dragged me here.”

I caught Miranda’s elbow, guiding her toward the entrance before anyone could add to their objections. She jerked away from my touch the moment we cleared the sacred cave.

“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Just... don’t.”

She strode ahead of me down the path, spine rigid. I watched her go, torn between following and giving her space. Between duty and desire. Between what was right and what was necessary.

Father would have known what to do. Would have found some diplomatic solution that satisfied everyone without compromising his principles.

But Father was dead. And I was chief of a fractured clan, bound to a witch who probably hated me, with no idea how to fix any of it.

The sacred fire crackled behind me, and I swore I heard my ancestors laughing.