Page 20 of Orn and the Real Girl

That finally got to him. He stopped his ministrations and set me down, pouting and looking like a mistreated puppy. I swatted at his arm, refusing to fall for it. “Behave yourself or I’m sending you outside, mister. Am I clear?”

“Aye, dove,” he grumbled. After a moment he seemed to collect himself a bit and hefted his axe onto one shoulder, the thick muscle bulging with the effort in a way that was distinctly delicious. “Shall I free your folk, then?”

“You can’t!” Mother Tonn shouted, shuffling just a little closer and pointing at the bars of their cell.

“They’re spelled. Touching them stills the heart and sends the soul to their foul god.

” I shivered, backing away from the innocent-looking lattice.

I guess that means my lockpicking spell is useless, I thought.

I had to spread the thick paste over the lock in order for it to work.

Orn considered the bars, his free hand stroking over his chin and rasping the stubble there. “How far to one side can you manage to get without touching the bars?” he asked them.

“I’m…not sure…” Mother Tonn said slowly. “But we can try and see?”

Orn nodded. Once everyone was packed tightly on the right side of the cell he examined the empty space critically, his dark eyes darting between the empty side and the full side.

He grabbed my arm and guided us both back a few steps.

“Cover your faces,” he told my coven. They did, too weak and curious to protest. And then he was moving, swinging his huge axe in an arc and sending it flying at the bars in front of the empty section of cell.

Witches squealed and gasped, huddling still closer, but his aim was true.

The bars were no match for that axe, no matter how strong their curse was.

Wood splintered and flew through the air, following the path of the axe and littering the dirty floor.

A high-pitched ringing filled the room, and then more of the evil presence filling the cavern ebbed away, the space immediately brighter and more open.

Orn retrieved the hatchet he’d used to destroy the altar earlier and used it to widen the hole he’d made.

Then he strode in and hefted his axe back up onto his shoulder.

He nodded at the wide eyes and slack faces turned up at him.

“Ladies,” he said, tilting his head in a respectful nod.

“I like him,” Brekka declared, and at my best friend’s words the tension broke, everyone laughing, some until they were crying and having trouble breathing.

ORN STOOD CLOSE behind me, his arms wrapping around me and holding me tight to his feverishly hot body.

My coven slowly trickled out of their cell, joining us in the main cavern chamber.

In the improved lighting of the main cavern I was horrified at the state of them; the dimness of the cage had hidden much of their condition, it turned out.

I pulled away from Orn and jumped into action, ripping into my pack and pulling out the food and water we’d packed and handing it around to my fellow witches.

I tended to the wounded while the others ate, my heart breaking at what they must have been through for the last few days to be left in the condition that I was seeing.

I felt so guilty, knowing I’d been cozy and safe and getting the best sex of my life while awful things were happening to the eleven women who’d become my family in so many ways.

Once everyone had been seen to, Mother Tonn came over and sat beside me.

She’d always been most like a mother to me.

Her pale hand clasped mine, stilling my nervous fingers, which had been mindlessly picking at a loose thread on my sleeve.

“You’ll unravel the whole seam at this rate, my dear heart,” she said softly, her cool fingers closing tighter over my hand, pouring soothing into me.

“You needn’t feel guilty, Sara.”

My throat spasmed, tears rushing to my eyes.

As if he could smell them, Orn’s head snapped up from being bent over his weapons, cleaning and sharpening them.

I gave him a weak smile, nodding at Mother Tonn with my chin.

His eyes narrowed, but he stayed where he was.

It may have been my imagination, but it seemed like the whet stone was rasping against steel louder than it had been.

Once I’d gotten my feelings under control, I cleared my throat. “How’d you know?” I croaked. It was useless denying it.

“Brekka let me know. And I daresay I know you well enough to guess, even if she hadn’t.

” She loosed a hacking cough that immediately made me nervous, and I dug around for the medicinal lozenges that I always carried when I foraged.

Mother Tonn took it gratefully. “Like I said, you have nothing to feel guilty about. You did what you had to to get us help, and knowing you, that young man had to hold you back bodily to stop you from striking out on your own in that blizzard.”

I grinned sheepishly. She wasn’t too far off from the truth.

“Well, I still—I wasted some time.” With Orn, I almost said, but the words wouldn’t come, because they were a lie.

I never would have been able to free my coven without him, but beyond that…

Well, he felt too important to me, to my life, to call even our most gratuitous sex a waste.

Mother Tonn smiled knowingly, squeezing my hand before releasing it and resting them delicately in her lap. “I must admit, the orc mate did surprise me,” she said softly.

My head whipped around to stare at her full in the face.

But there wasn’t any of the judgment I’d been worried about reflected in her pale blue eyes.

She grinned at me, winking saucily. “Fear not, dear one. No one will begrudge you the mate bond. And especially not when we have him to thank for our freedom and our lives. This coven owes that man a debt, and the least we can do to repay it is to accept you both with open arms.”

“Good,” Orn growled, flopping down on my other side and scooping me up to sit in the cradle of his crossed legs. “Because I have been mightily concerned with how I’d honor my word to Sara to help protect you all if you wound up hurting her.”

I expected Mother Tonn to be offended, but she just chuckled, shaking her snowy head. “Goodness, you orcish folk are so serious about your mates.” She reached over and patted his knee. “You’ve nothing to fear from us…Orn, was it?”

My fierce mate nodded, idly combing through my hair with his clawed fingers, carefully picking the knots that had wound themselves into my hair loose. I sagged back against him, the weight of my dread lifting all at once and leaving me feeling light as air, and a little dizzy.

Mother Frannie and Kelli soon joined us, then Brekka, then Litha, until the entire coven was gathered around us, asking Orn and I questions—about how we’d met, how we’d come to realize we were mates, about Gehyta. But there was only so much they could avoid the most important questions.

“So how bad is the hamlet?” Litha asked, dread creeping into her soft voice. “We were already caged and hooded by the time we heard—we heard crashes. And smelled smoke.”

“There’s not much left,” I said, meeting each devastated pair of eyes in turn. “I’m so sorry. But by the time I returned from foraging—“

No one’s eyes were dry, and some of the younger witchlings began to sob in earnest, but the Mothers managed to keep enough composure to try and get the group calm.

“It’s alright, witchlings,” Mother Frannie soothed, patting shoulders and backs as much as her two arthritic hands could manage.

“We’ve met hardship before, and we’ll do it again, aye? ”

Orn leaned closer, his warm breath tickling my ear. “Would it cause offense if I asked them to stay with us at my cabin?” he murmured.

I stiffened, his question hitting me like a bolt of lightning. “What do you mean?” I asked, wanting to be certain I’d heard him right.

I felt him shrug. “Well, there’s not much space right now, but the cabin itself should be able to fit them all, or at least the ones in worse shape.

” He kissed just under my ear, his lips feather-light on my sensitive skin.

“But there’s also the barn, and Gehyta only needs a wee bit of it.

I’d have to insulate it a bit more, in case there’s another storm before spring comes—“

“What about you?”

“I’ll be wherever you are, sweetness,” he said, kissing me again. “Even if you decide to bunk in the outhouse—“

I swatted his arm. “You don’t even have an outhouse, you mad thing!”

“Hypothetically, then. I’d lie down in the muck and then you could lie on top of me. Keep you out of the filth and I get to rest using your gorgeous body instead of a blanket. Actually, now that I think about it…”

“I am not sleeping in a latrine, Orn!” I hissed. Then I cleared my throat, looking up at my ragged little coven. “We’ve got a plan!” I told them.

Once I had their full attention I explained what Orn and I had just discussed, and to my relief most every thin, dirty face turned toward us looked pleased and hopeful.

It was decided—we’d rescue what we could from the rubble, rest, and then move along to our new lodgings. Once spring came to the mountains we would rebuild.