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Thrain

My parents didn’t just invite me over for lunch for no reason. There was always roasting with the roast or begging with the brisket. Still, I had to go. Orcs took care of their families, sometimes beyond when they should or the parents deserved. Tradition, I supposed.

“Mom,” I called out, opening the wide wooden door to their home. It had been built into the side of a mountain. Carved out hundreds of years ago by my ancestors as our rages began growing so large they overpopulated the land we once owned.

“I’m here, xenoc.” Didn’t matter how old I got, my mom would always call me little monster in our ancient language. Her voice came from the kitchen, along with the savory scent of roasted meats, vegetable stew, and freshly baked sourdough bread.

Oh boy. Her favorite meal. My stomach turned in anticipation of what they had to tell me or ask me or coerce me to get involved with.

I paused in the hallway that led from the front door to the other rooms, wondering if I’d forgotten her birthday. No. I shook my head. Her birthday was a few months before. Dad’s? Nope. That wasn’t it either.

Inside the kitchen area was warmer than the rest of the house. Our cooking area was old school. Woodstove and ovens. A stone fireplace in the corner where the stew pot hung on an iron hook over the fire. Rounds of sourdough covered the island in the middle, all of them with unique cuts and indents in the dough. My mother was the best baker in our rage, when we belonged to one.

I breathed in the scents. “Everything smells delicious.”

“Have a hunk of this bread. It’s rosemary, garlic, and parmesan.” She thought slicing bread was a tragedy. Real orcs ripped bread, she always said.

“It’s great, Mom.”

“Good. I made you three loaves.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, taking a seat.

She moved to the hearth and stirred the stew. “Son, I’m not getting any younger.”

Ah, damn it. I could already tell where this was going.

“Mom, this isn’t the mate spiel, is it?”

“Mate spiel,” she scoffed at my choice of words. “We orcs live for our mates, especially alphas like you, Thrain. Are you not ready to have one? I was talking to Moira just the other day, and her Baruk is still single. He’s a lovely omega. Takes care of his hair and tusks. Very clean, pointy ears.”

Important things to orcs. Hair. Tusks. Ears. There were even times when the shade of green you were, determined social status.

All bullshit as far as I was concerned. Sure, I hoped I was attractive, but not to an orc. There were so few omega orcs, and I’d met all of them. And besides, orcs mated humans. We had to. It had always been.

Down deep, I knew I was destined to mate with a human. Human omegas were cute, and half-human orklings were even cuter. Sure, I could choose to make a life with an orc omega, but it would only be a half love, and both of us deserved better. My father was human. My grandmother human.

We had lunch and after they let the subject go for a few minutes, as the pumpkin custard and carrot cake were doled out, my father cleared his throat. “Thrain, are you actively pursuing a mate? Still waiting on your fated?”

“Yes,” I said, shifting in my seat. “I’m waiting for my fated. I always have been.”

“I get that. We want you to be happy, Son. But he isn’t going to bump into you out of nowhere. Especially if you’re still determined about a human being your mate. Humans have to be courted—dated, as they say. Have you even asked a human out in a while?”

I hadn’t asked anyone out in a while. “No. A lot of them are still afraid of our kind, Papa.”

“Your mate will not be.”

I reached for something to make them stop. Stop pressuring. Stop putting names in front of me, hoping I would crack. “I’ll find a mate by the end of the year. How’s that?” The words came from my mouth, straight from my brain. No filter in between.

My mom put her mug down. She didn’t drink coffee. She preferred the acorn concoction our kind had always drunk. Honey sweetened. “The end of the year? A mate by Christmas? I can deal with that. Arun?”

My father nodded. “I can deal with that as well. We…we want you to be as happy as we are, Thrain. There’s nothing like the love of a mate.” He leaned over and took my mother’s green hand in his human one.

“I want that too.”

After lunch, I drove over to my friend Saka’s place. He was always home. Somewhat of a homebody like I was but way worse.

He opened the door and waved me in. “What’s up, man?”

I handed over a loaf of my mom’s bread because I was about to ask Saka a huge favor. “I need help.”

“With what?”

“How does an orc like me meet a bunch of humans?”

He chuckled and shut the door behind him. “I have no fucking clue. Look at me. I haven’t dated in months.”

“Well, my parents are on my ass, and my big mouth told them I would find a mate by the end of the year.”

“Oh…” he said, chuckling. He grabbed a hunk of cheese from the fridge, along with a bottle of ale. Orc made. He brought it all to his desk while I sat on the desk beside him on the sofa.

We sat for a while, Saka eating his bread and cheese while I tried to think of something.

“How about a meet and greet?” he asked. “A local one. An hour with an orc.”

I scooted to the edge of the couch. “Would anyone come? Humans are afraid.”

“I think they will. But really, you just need that one special someone to come. Right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I have a friend named Brent. He’s human but he’s great at setting up these things. I know he did it for that shifter that was new in town. Remember him? Garrett?”

I lit up. I did remember it. Men and women alike lined up for a chance to meet a shifter. “You and Garrett would help me?”

Saka chuckled. “Of course. Let’s get him on the phone.”