Page 19 of The False Shaman (Claimed by the Red Hand #2)
DROKO
Archie.
His sweet human scent was rubbing off all over me, but I just couldn’t stop myself. The taste of his breath scudding over my palate, the sweep of that agile tongue—
The memory of it sliding across the sensitive tip of my cock….
I shoved him against the wall. He was so light I could pin him there with hardly a thought, yet so limber that even through my rigid leathers, the feel of his thighs wrapping around my waist was enough to drive the breath right out of me.
If I’d been worried for him, maybe I could have stopped myself. But Archie had found a way out—he would soon be free—so it didn’t matter if he was covered in my scent. Maybe it would even help him get away, masking his exotic musk beneath the more common smell of orc. A thin excuse. But I was desperate to believe it.
I shoved our mouths together, needing to smell him, taste him—to bathe in the human otherness of Archie’s scent. Orcs don’t kiss, not on the mouth. Too many clashing tusks. But Archie’s mouth fit against with mine as though they were made for one another.
He gasped. It landed like water on parched earth. I slid my hands beneath his shirt to make him do it again. The feel of his hot, smooth skin—so soft—the dip of his spine, the rippling of his muscles as he shivered beneath my touch.…
I’d thought to wring some choice sounds out of him, but now I was the one biting back a moan.
I wanted more. Wanted to wrap my arms around him. To taste every inch, to explore the delicious depths of his humanness. To let his scent sink into me, to force it into my pores until I was so full of him that even once he was gone, he would still be a part of me.
I worked my hands lower and cupped his sweet, rounded arse in two firm handfuls. He arched his back, pushing his hips against mine as his breathing shifted into something ragged and unsteady. The scent of human arousal filled my senses as I shifted his body to grind his crotch against my lower belly.
“Droko…please,” he breathed against my mouth, and I rolled my hips so the friction found him right between his spread legs. The scent of arousal intensified. And then he threw back his head and bared his pale, slender neck.
Whatever scant control I might’ve still possessed immediately shattered as my cock strained hard against my breeches.
I’d hooked a thumb into his waistband and was nigh ready to tear his clothes from his body when he said, “Please…come with me. I can’t lose you.”
The reality of what we were doing reared its head—the danger, the futility—and I couldn’t go on. My hands dropped to my sides, numb…and Archie slid down until his feet touched the floor.
Voice rough, I said, “You don’t know what you’re asking—”
“The hell I don’t. How long will you play this crazy game, constantly worrying you’ll be found out? The odds are against you, and eventually, you’re gonna lose.”
“But my clan—”
“I don’t give the even the slightest damn about your clan. They sacrificed you to save their own hides. And as far as I’m concerned, they can find some other scapegoat to take your place.”
He was right, of course. But I couldn’t go. I might not have chosen this burden, but it was still mine. Walking away from it was…unthinkable.
“Take a chance,” he said softly. “You’re more than your clan, Droko. Be your own person.”
When Archie reached up to cup my jaw, I flinched. Not because I was worried about his scent—I was covered in it already—but because I wasn’t strong enough to do what he asked. I took a step back and his face fell.
“This is who I am,” I said regretfully. “And I could no sooner set aside this responsibility than cut off my own—”
“Shh!” Archie jabbed a finger toward something just over my left shoulder and whispered, “Look at the tapestry. It’s moving.”
I figured I had jostled the old thing, but I turned and saw I was still a solid pace away. And the central figure, the tattered green orc, swayed like he was dodging a thrown spear. I remembered Gorgul discouraging me from looking at it too closely…and him telling me not to touch it.
I whisked the tapestry aside. Behind it, an eye-level hole the size of my fist had been hewn into the rock. Wind from the storm I’d “predicted” whistled through the tunnel beyond, and if I focused, I could hear the sound of distant rain.
The meditation room was supposed to be my sanctuary, or so I had believed—the only place in the caves where I had any sort of privacy. But instead, it was just a way for Gorgul to learn things to use against me. When I’d pried the teeth from the skull…when I’d taken pleasure with Archie…. None of my secrets had ever been secret at all.
“You know what this means,” Archie said—and of course I did. It meant I was a fool. But that wasn’t what Archie was trying to say. “It’s especially satisfying to bend an enemy over a barrel when he thinks he’s plugging you .”
He peered through the hole, got his bearings, then let the tapestry fall back into place. His voice was low, but brimming with excitement, when he said, “Maybe you can’t kill Gargle, but you can do one better. We’ll feed him a fake plan so outrageous, he can’t help but ‘unveil’ in front of everyone. Make him out to be a dumbass, and not only do you gain the upper hand—you discredit his word. Once his credibility is ruined, whatever he thinks he has on you is useless.”
I wasn’t convinced—and Archie wasn’t done convincing me—but he held up a finger and pressed an ear to the tattered green orc. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
I took a measured breath and let the air play across my palate. Mostly, I smelled the room. Burning coals. Rotting wool. A lingering trace of incense. And, of course…I smelled Archie.
But underneath all of that, if I really reached, I picked up the scent of an orc.
Of Gorgul.
My arm ached with the need to thrust itself through the hole behind the crumbling tapestry, grab the traitor by the throat, and slam his head into the cave wall—and keep on slamming until the sound turned wet and sloppy. Killing him might only make things worse. Yet it would feel so damned good.
But I didn’t move.
From the edge of my vision, I saw Archie’s teeth glitter by the brazier’s dim light, and I knew he was smiling. “Follow my lead,” he said, barely a breath. Then, at a conversational level, he said, “Of course I can find Deathshade. There’s enough of it in Taruut’s apothecary to wipe out half the clan. All it takes is a few grains of the stuff, and poof . No more Ul-Rott.”
Archie looked at me meaningfully, making a “go ahead” gesture he shielded from the spy hole with his body.
I’d never been any good at improvising. Too busy training to follow orders.
Archie gestured harder. I blanched.
“I can see you’re hesitant,” he said loudly, picking up the thread I couldn’t seem to find. “Do you think a delayed reaction would be better? I could use Nightroot instead, and when the chieftain goes to sleep tonight, he won’t wake up.”
I was about to agree just to sound like I was calling the shots when I saw Archie give his head a subtle shake. “No,” I blurted out.
He gave the “go on” motion again.
“Poison may be a coward’s weapon,” I said. The words felt wooden, halting…but I pushed ahead. “But I need to be there when it happens if I’m to seize power.”
Archie’s eyes sparkled with approval. “My Droko is sage, indeed. Deathshade it is. But how do we get him to swallow it?”
Well, that was easy. “The chieftain always takes the choicest offering. Lay out a plate of grubs for the ceremony and make sure you taint them just before you serve them so they’re still wriggling. See that you feed Deathshade only to the fattest one. That’s the grub Ul-Rott will pick.”
“It almost sounds like you’ve done this before,” Archie said playfully.
No. Thanks to my father, I simply knew how a leader would act. But since I was finally getting the hang of the lie, I said, “How do you think I got this far?” and was rewarded with an even broader smile. “Now, go, human. Prepare the meal. It will be the last one you ever make in this dark, stinking cave. Before the day is out, we’ll paint the streets with the blood of any who oppose me and take our rightful place in the chieftain’s hall.”