Page 10 of Loved By The Orc (Monster Orc Brides #4)

Negan :

TOGETHER WE MAKE our way back to the table where the others sit, and I swear everyone watches our approach.

“Play a game with us,” Tok says. “We need one more couple to complete our table.”

Varguk looks surprised that he’d be asked, which makes me sad. It makes me wonder what it’s like in his clan, or with his family. Doesn’t he ever play games with siblings or even friends?

I hold on to his hand, pulling him toward the empty side of the table where the other couples sit.

“We’ll have to modify the game a bit,” Shally says. “Usually, we play an answer and question about your partner. Couples win. But since you and Negan just met, you’re not going to know much about each other. So, we’ll do more of a random questionnaire.”

“Ooh, good idea,” Hisa says. “We normally don’t get to play this way because we get irritated if our males don’t answer correctly.”

“Which will still happen,” Tok reminds her, elbowing Bakog on his other side. “And we might end up sleeping outside tonight.” He scowls.

Shalia giggles. “Hey, we’re newly mated! I promise. You can answer wrong and we won’t shun you.”

“Promise?” Bakog whispers throatily, kissing her neck.

She blushes and I smile at Varguk. It’s sweet to see new love.

I can’t wait until he and I are at that point.

Mayhap once my father returns from Mont Grove, where I’m sure Grandmother Aga will prepare him, the way she does each time I have one of my milestones.

“Now, males against females. Males will write their answers down, then the females will answer one by one. If the one you’re paired with matches your answer, five points for your couple.

Anyone can win. Okay, first question. If your parents couldn’t stand the person you wanted to make your mate, would it give you pause to consider that person?

Males start writing.” When they are done, she gives us the nod for our answer.

She waits until we all fold over our paper.

“Now, females get to answer. Shally, go first.”

“Nay,” Shalia says. “My mother is enamored with Bakog.”

Bakog tosses his note into the center of the table and Hisa pulls it, then adds it into the money pile.

“Now your turn,” Shalia says to Hisa.

“Nay,” Hisa says. “My mother told me to look at the size of Tok’s head and reconsider my choices. I still chose to not heed her advice.”

“Aww. Really? With all the brats your mother turned out, I’d have thought for sure…” He rips up his note. “Still, you chose the size of my cock over the size of my future brats’ heads.”

The males all snicker and one tosses a grape at Tok, who’s grinning ear to ear. “I still win,” he snickers. “In bed tonight, if not in points.”

Bakog groans and slams his head to the table when Hisa waggles her eyebrows, making the tiny hoop pierced there jump.

“Negan’s turn. Let’s hear from a full orc female who doesn’t have human influence,” Hisa says.

“Not sure if I’m going to be much different, considering your mothers all gave me the talk from the time I could walk. But nay. If I loved someone my father didn’t approve of, I’d still mate him. My father taught me to grab love where I could. ”

Varguk is eyeing me with a calculating look on his face. He doesn’t toss his note into the middle of the table, nor does he rip it up. Mayhap he’ll wait until the end of the game to tally his winnings.

Ooh, I like that. Cunning male, leaving everyone to wonder how close we are to winning.

“Question for the males,” Hisa says. “If your clan was desperate for birthings, and your chosen mate didn’t want any brats, would you… one, consider another mate, or two, accept punishment for going against clan ordinance? Varguk, you go first.”

“In my clan, a female is forced to carry if she doesn’t want to. So, I would probably try to talk my mate into having at least one brat to avoid that, or take the punishment for her if that’s offered.”

“What would the punishment be?” Bakog asks, brows knotting as he leans forward. Aye, ‘tis truly interesting to find how things are run in the Southpeak clan.

He shrugs. “Depends upon each family’s king. We have several branches throughout our territory. In my father’s line, he’d ask to have the male maimed in some way. A finger. An ear. An eye. Nothing that would affect the clan overall, but something small.”

Hisa stares at him, aghast. “Something small? You’d lose an eye for your mate?”

Varguk looks confused as to why they find that baffling. I’m sure their males would too.

“Yes. It’s a political maneuver, guaranteeing that there’s one less male who would overthrow his crown.

But like I said, our punishment would be greater for her, so I’d rather talk her into having one so she doesn’t get bred with an undesirable orc who doesn’t have a mate just to bear his line of brats. ”

So females are forced to breed and anything goes? If they don’t choose, the bottom of the barrel is given to them?

“What would you offer her?” I ask softly .

“Whatever she wants. Some females don’t want to rear one so I would take the responsibility.”

Considering they haven’t much choice as to bearing one, I can imagine some draw the line at rearing. Who knows how much responsibility they are forced to endure for the brats they never wanted in the first place.

“My mother didn’t want brats. It was okay.

I had more than enough moms at the West Mountain clan.

‘Twas my father I felt bad for. Sometimes he seemed so sad when he looked at me and later someone mentioned how much like my mother I look. I realized he had a daily reminder of that my entire life. Of the mate who left him.”

“He was in love with her then?”

“Aye. And we all know that when an orc falls, they fall hard. Once-in-a-lifetime love.”

“She didn’t want to stick around, even if it was just to see him?”

“Nay, we were a package deal. He made that clear. She didn’t intend to get pregnant.

Always made him pull out, but sometimes it happens.

He begged her to stay with the clan, but it proved to be too much when she decided she wanted to be unpaired.

Wanted to be unmated and without brats. So he was forced to watch the one he loved frolic with other males.

It caused a lot of fighting. Then she began to withhold milk.

She never wanted to breastfeed but agreed to pump milk for a while.

Probably figured withholding would teach him a lesson about fighting with her chosen males.

That was when he began traveling to Solaya and visiting with his friend, Joanna.

” I give a nod to Shally. “By then, Grunalda was nursing her young, so she fed me also. He spent more and more time with the clan and eventually, with all the fighting at home, they were relieved. Glad to have the break. By the time my mom left, everyone was used to how much time we spent in Solaya.”

“I’m surprised your king allowed it.”

“Our king, Jacovi, realized it was beneficial to have the tie to West Mountain, so he never demanded we stay put. ”

“Wise of him.”

“’Twas. In fact, I sometimes wonder if he asked my mother to leave. At least, he gave his permission.”

“Do you ever miss her?” he asks quietly.

“Nay, orc.” I can’t help but wink at the sexy male. “You cannot miss what you don’t have. I had plenty of motherly influence and my father more than made up for a lack of parent.”

“Sounds like you had a great childhood.”

“It was. If you could ignore these two.” I angle my head at Bakog and Tok, who cluck their tongues. “Now tell me about yours.”

No one seems interested in the game any longer.

“Males in my clan find it beneficial to take more than one female so they don’t fall in love. However, my father was king and already had a mate. Queen Nisha. She made my life a living hell. Naturally she wanted her own two sons to supersede in case something happened to the king.”

“Where was your mom?”

“She was around during my early years. She passed when I was a teen.”

“So, since your males take more than one female, I guess they’re not friends? Like sister wives?”

As they would be in the West Mountain clan.

“Nay. Most females hate each other. Each wants their own sons to succeed. My mother never bore any other brats but me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “’Twas a long time ago.”

“If I have brats, I’d want them to be loved by both parents. But I know that a child can be loved by one.”

“I’d love a wee girl who looks like you.”

If my heart could have exploded, it would have right then and there .

“And I would love a male who looked like you,” I say softly. “One who grew tall and brave no matter what life threw at him.”

“Our little sister is addled in the head,” Tok mutters, proving they listen in, and Bakog guffaws.

“As are you,” Shalia says, using the glare she learned during her brief stint as a Blackheart.

“And you,” Hisa says, eyes narrowed on her brother.

Both males immediately go quiet.

No one notices that my father and King Brachard have slipped away, as if angling for a quieter night.

No one notices that King Jacovi parties with our Blackhearts, as if distracting them from the missing two.

Denruk and his friends are nowhere around, probably given a duty to watch the outskirts of the village.

Just as I think of the fool, he enters the pub and heads straight for our table.

“Guard,” he snaps at Varguk, as if using his name is beneath him. “A message from your king.”

He thrusts a sealed, folded note onto the table in front of Var and stands there glaring at him.

We all stare at the note on the table.

“Well? Read it,” Denruk sneers.

“I’ll read it later,” Varguk says, his eyes narrowed on Denruk.

“Read it now. Or do you have something to hide that concerns our clansmate?”

“He’s already been entrusted as her guard,” Bakog snaps. “Do you doubt the permission given by West Mountain?”

“If a message was sent by the king of Southpeaks, don’t you think it has to do with her? Or even him, who killed the king’s son?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Varguk says. “It might be a message from the king. Or it might be a message from father to son. How would you know? ”

But I know. Varguk has already told me the relationship between him and his father, and him and his siblings. He’s not claimed in the capacity of his father’s son, and no one would reach out the way family might.

Denruk leans in, a challenge clear when he says again, “Read it. Or have you something to hide, Southpeak scum?”

“Talk to our guard like that again and we’ll have a problem,” Bakog warns.

But Varguk is calm as he unravels the note, his eyes skimming across the page. Like a petty child, Denruk rips it from his hand. It flutters to the table, face up.

Written in a language that’s definitely not Orcish.

“What is this? Some sort of code?” Denruk snaps.

Varguk picks up the note and holds it over the candle flame in the center of the table, letting the edge catch fire. He blows it gently, allowing the words to smolder before they turn to ash.

“Our clans sometime speak their native tongues among them. My father, even though he’s king, is no exception.”

“So you’ll pretend it’s a note from father to son?” Denruk asks.

“Forgiving me, his son, for killing his other.” Varguk’s grin is chilling.