Page 8
EIGHT
Amuleta bit her lip, and a bout of shyness took over her.
She had never brought anyone home before, and now here she was, at the insistence of Magoza.
Amuleta had learned very quickly that Magoza could be bossy—and not just on the battlefield.
The memory of the sounds that had come from her while Magoza’s face had been buried between her legs heated her face.
Or the feeling of her fist inside Magoza’s warm channel.
The strong female orc was a generous lover and wasn’t shy about demanding what she wanted or needed.
Amuleta had never experienced anything like it before.
She’d had her share of orgasms at the result of her own hand, but nothing that had her feeling as if she were flying high amongst the clouds.
She stole another glance over at Magoza.
Her pussy had been well taken care of and was feeling overly sensitive.
“I will be fine. You don’t have to walk me home,” Amuleta murmured.
By the time she had returned to get her clothing, they were well dry.
She had been gone longer than she had expected and needed to return home.
She glanced over at Magoza who ambled alongside her.
They had washed up in the river before getting dressed.
Amuleta eyed the clothes that covered Magoza and knew that she preferred to see the big, strong orc naked.
They walked down a path in the woods that led to her home.
The trees provided much-needed shade on this warm day.
Magoza’s amber eyes swung her way.
Her breath caught in her throat at the expression in Magoza’s eyes.
Her core clenched with the intensity of Magoza’s gaze.
“And why shouldn’t I help you carry these heavy bags? These are too much for you.” She motioned to Amuleta as if to remind her of the difference between them.
Magoza had insisted on helping carry some of the bags for Amuleta.
Having the warrior assist her in foraging had allowed her to collect even more.
She would have had a difficult time trying to lug all of this home by herself.
Magoza carried the bag of laundry on her back while she hefted up the other bag that held the rooted vegetables Amuleta had harvested.
She would have plenty for market day this week.
She smiled thinking of the profit she would bring in.
“I would have made do,” Amuleta grumbled.
She was only carrying the two bags that held herbs and berries in them which were much lighter.
She sighed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
She had to admit she was nervous.
She wasn’t sure how her mother was going to react to a stranger at their home.
They had never really had many visitors over the solars.
“Or is it that you are ashamed of me?”
“What?” Amuleta gasped.
She paused and stared at Magoza.
Had she lost her mind?
Who in their right mind would be ashamed to be with her?
After what she’d just experienced at the hands of Magoza, she still couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.
If anything, it should be the other way around.
She wasn’t a full orc like Magoza and maybe she would be ashamed to tell anyone of their time together.
“Why would you say such a thing?” Amuleta finally bit out.
Her heart raced as she took in the strong female warrior in front of her.
She had been so gentle, but firm, when she had worked Amuleta’s body.
She had made Amuleta feel as if she were the most beautiful female in the world.
Parts of her body still tingled from her touch and bites.
She blushed at the light ache she had on her inner thigh were Magoza had nipped her.
“You appear to be nervous. The way you keep looking around as if expecting someone to jump out of the trees. Are you worried about what your mother will think when we arrive?” Magoza closed the gap between them.
She reached out a hand and cradled Amuleta’s cheek.
Amuleta couldn’t help but settle her face into her palm.
“I’m looking around because maybe this is a trick, or a cruel joke,” she whispered.
That was the only thing she could think of to explain why Magoza had chosen her.
She had said she had punished those warriors, but Amuleta hadn’t witnessed it.
For all she knew, Magoza could be in on their sick little jokes.
She proclaimed that Amuleta was her mate…
but how?
“What did you say?” Magoza asked.
Her hand slipped down to cup Amuleta’s chin in a firm hold.
Her eyes narrowed on her, and the expression that filled them sent a shiver of apprehension down Amuleta’s spine.
Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything.
Maybe she should have basked in the moment of being with the commander then wallowed in her self-pity later.
Maybe it was just a passing fancy for the commander.
Amuleta had heard enough gossip about Magoza and her women.
The words that Magoza had uttered in the midst of passion could have just been her caught up in the heat of the moment.
Amuleta had allowed this female to do what she wanted to her—and it was worth the cost.
Her gaze clashed with Magoza’s.
She swallowed hard. The fury that blazed in her eyes gave Amuleta the sense that maybe she was wrong.
Could what had happened between them be real?
Was she truly destined to be with Magoza?
As a half-human, she didn’t have any of the feelings or the sense of knowing that an orc would have when it came to mates.
Not that her mother did.
Gelisha had fallen in love with Xagok.
She hesitated for a few seconds, carefully choosing her words because her self-doubt was taking over her.
Not only that, but she had to protect herself.
The world could certainly be cruel.
Why would the gods see fit to give Magoza a half-breed as a mate?
“Am I a trophy for you?” she whispered.
She’d heard plenty of people wanting to get a taste of her because she was a half-breed.
It was like she was just something they could check off on a list of things to do or be able to boast about.
“When I said I will claim you, I meant every single word of that,” Magoza bit out around her tusks.
Her grip tightened on Amuleta’s face.
It wasn’t a crushing feeling, nor was it painful.
If anything, it was arousing her.
She sent up a prayer to every goddess that she could think of and prayed that Magoza wouldn’t be able to scent her.
“Do you not know how important the word of a warrior is?”
“And do you not know how much I will not be accepted as your?—”
Amuleta couldn’t even say the word.
Mate .
Magoza had murmured the word in her ear right before she had reached her peak the second time they had been intimate.
It could truly never be.
Magoza was the great warrior, daughter of the chieftain, the future chiefess.
There would be a revolt if she took a half-breed mate.
Had the word caused Amuleta to start dreaming immediately of things she knew she couldn’t have?
Of course it had. What she wouldn’t give to be able to live amongst her father’s people without feeling ashamed.
To hold her head high and walk into the main hall of the stronghold clutching Magoza’s hand.
To be a voice for others like her who would be cast out for just existing.
But alas, that would never come to be.
The most Amuleta probably could be was a passing fancy for Magoza, or maybe her…
concubine .
“Anyone who dares speak ill of you will answer to me,” Magoza snarled.
“Even if it’s your own father?” Amuleta whispered.
Magoza’s eyes widened slightly at her retort.
She released Amuleta’s face, her hand falling away.
Amuleta took a step back from her and sighed.
She lifted the one bag and tossed the strap over her shoulder.
Her father, a warrior who’d fought for Tulak Cydassi—Magoza’s father—didn’t even know that his finest warrior had hid his family away in the woods.
There was a reason for that.
“My father, your chieftain, is a reasonable male, and he is my father and will listen to me.” Magoza stood to her full height and motioned for them to continue.
Amuleta brushed past her.
Magoza may have confidence in her father, but Amuleta didn’t.
“ Banhas ?” Amuleta called out softly.
She held the front door of the cottage and stood in the entrance.
Gelisha’s singing drifted through the air from the back room.
Amuleta smiled at the simple fact her mother was singing.
She probably hadn’t realized Amuleta had been gone so long.
“Amuleta? Are you home?” Gelisha replied.
The door to her sewing room opened, and she rushed out with a wide grin.
She made her way to Amuleta, still with her measuring tape draped over her shoulders.
“Oh, danhas . Wait until you see the new dress. I am almost done with it. Come inside. Why are you standing in the doorway?”
She came over to Amuleta and brought her in for a tight hug.
“Um, Banhas . There is someone with me,” Amuleta murmured softly.
Gelisha drew away from her and motioned to the bags Amuleta was holding.
“You picked all of that today?” she exclaimed and clapped her hands together.
Her dark hair was pulled back away from her face in a messy bun on top of her head.
Her skin was slightly flushed from being secluded in her sewing room.
It was quite warm inside, and on days like today when it was extremely warm, they usually spent time out in the back.
“Did you hear me, Banhas ?” Amuleta placed her bags on the table by the door and motioned behind her.
Magoza stood outside the cottage waiting patiently.
“We have a guest.”
Gelisha’s eyes widened.
She glanced around Amuleta and froze.
Her gaze flicked back to Amuleta.
“What have you done, danhas ?” She took Amuleta’s hands in hers.
Gelisha’s smile faded, and a look of fear entered her eyes.
“We are going to have to leave here,” she whispered fiercely.
She tugged Amuleta to her and tried to push her behind her.
Amuleta stumbled for a moment from the surprising strength her mother had displayed.
Gelisha stood tall in the doorway as she faced Magoza.
“It is okay.” Amuleta rested her hands on Gelisha’s shoulders and gave a squeeze.
Gelisha’s muscles were taut underneath her touch.
She didn’t know what was going on.
She had never seen her react this way before.
Even in town she was fine amongst the orcs.
She always ignored their stares just as she’d taught Amuleta.
“Come. Allow me to introduce you.”
Gelisha hesitated for a moment before being coaxed outside.
Amuleta stood next to her and offered Magoza an apologetic smile.
Magoza’s intense eyes didn’t miss anything.
She arched an eyebrow at Amuleta who just shrugged.
“ Banhas , this is Magoza?—”
“Cydassi. Yes, I know who she is,” Gelisha replied dryly.
She held her head high.
She glanced over at Amuleta.
“She is the daughter of Tulak.”
“You know my father, ma’am?” Magoza replied.
“No, of course not. I’ve only heard about him,” Gelisha said.
“But I know who you are, but I don’t know why you would be here with my daughter.”
“ Banhas , we met in the woods today, and she helped me with the foraging. You see how much I was able to bring home with her help.” Amuleta tried to steer the conversation away from why Magoza was there.
She wasn’t sure why her mother appeared to be angry at the fact that Magoza was there or who she was.
“I learned a lot today with your daughter, Ms.—” Magoza stopped.
Amuleta hadn’t had a chance to finish the introductions.
“My name is Gelisha,” her mother filled in for her.
They never revealed their last name.
It was an ode to her late father.
He had gone through so much to keep them safe and hidden away that there was no telling who would recognize his name.
“Ms. Gelisha,” Magoza continued.
She nodded to the cottage and held up the heavier bags she had carried for Amuleta.
“Would you like for me to bring these inside for you?”
“That would be nice of you.” Amuleta took Gelisha’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.
“Wasn’t that nice of her to help me today?”
“I’m sure the commander had better things to do than frolicking around in the woods collecting herbs and berries,” Gelisha said.
“It was my pleasure to spend time with your daughter today.” Magoza turned her amber eyes to Amuleta whose face grew warm at the meaning behind her words.
“But I shall not stay too much longer. I don’t want to intrude on your privacy.”
That appeared to satisfy Gelisha who went back inside the cottage.
Something was definitely different about her, and she was sure they would have a discussion about it once Magoza had left.
“I do appreciate you carrying those bags for me.” Amuleta motioned for her to follow Gelisha inside.
Magoza brushed past Amuleta as she went inside before her.
Her breath caught in her chest at the closeness of the orc.
How could she act normal in front of Gelisha after what they had done?
She motioned to the table in front of the sofa.
Most of their furniture had been handmade by her father.
He had been a talented craftsman.
When not training as a warrior, he’d liked to use his hands and create beautiful woodwork.
Had he been alive, she was sure he would be able to sell his work.
“You can put them down on the table,” Amuleta said.
Gelisha had taken a seat in her favorite chair by the fireplace.
Magoza placed the bags down and faced her.
“You have a beautiful home, my lady,” Magoza said.
She froze in place, her eyes locked in on the mantel above the hearth.
Her mouth dropped open slightly as she edged toward the hearth.
“How do you have this?”
She arrived in front of it and paused.
On the wall was her father’s war axe.
It was Gelisha’s prized possession.
The one last piece of him that they cherished aside from his memory.
Her father had loved that axe, and the stories he’d told at night were never meant for a young girl like Amuleta.
Gelisha would scold him plenty of times that his war tales were too graphic and gory for Amuleta’s young ears.
But Amuleta had loved every second of it.
She would smile and lean forward as her father became animated with the tales of fighting great battles.
“That is none of your business,” Gelisha exclaimed.
She pushed up from her chair and moved in front of Magoza.
Gelisha tilted her head back to meet Magoza’s eyes.
“Don’t touch it.”
“What do you mean it’s none of my business? I know exactly who this axe belonged to and I want to know why it’s here,” Magoza demanded.
“Again, none of your business. Amuleta, it’s time for your guest to leave,” Gelisha snapped.
Amuleta flew across the room to her mother’s side.
This was not how she’d imagined the day going.
She honestly didn’t know what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it.
“ Banhas ,” she started, but Gelisha shook her head.
“I said she needs to leave. Now.” The determined tilt in Gelisha’s chin was a clear sign that Amuleta shouldn’t go against her.
Amuleta stepped forward and snagged Magoza’s wrist. She gave a gentle pull to guide her toward the door.
“Come. I think it’s time for you to go,” she said softly.
Magoza jerked her head in a nod, allowing Amuleta to lead her out of the cottage.
It wasn’t until they were outside with the door shut that Amuleta let out a deep breath.
Magoza walked a few steps away from her and paused with her hands on her waist.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into my mother. She’s normally very nice and welcoming to strangers, even though they aren’t very nice to us?—”
“Xagok Sesh was your father.” Magoza’s statement stunned Amuleta.
She stood frozen, staring at her back.
Her father had died with the secret of having a mate and child hidden away.
She inhaled sharply and lowered her gaze.
This was why Gelisha acted the way she did.
Even with her husband long gone, she was still trying to protect him.
Amuleta took a few steps away from the house.
She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced at the beautiful blue sky.
The twin suns weren’t as high as they had been earlier.
It was late afternoon, and soon she would need to help put supper on.
Just hearing someone utter her father’s name brought a smile to her lips.
She closed her eyes and tried to conjure the last image she had of him.
It had been the final time he’d left them.
He was off to do the chieftain’s bidding.
He’d had a wide grin for her as he’d hugged her goodbye.
The two of them had a tradition.
He lifted her in his arms and demanded a big hug from her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed as tight as she could.
He shouted that she was too strong for him, and she fell into a fit of giggles.
“Come back to me, Ranhos,” Amuleta whispered.
“Always, my love.”
Her vision blurred with unshed tears.
Life wasn’t fair. Why did it have to be her father who was killed in battle?
He had always promised her that he would return to her no matter what.
“Was Xagok Sesh your father?” Magoza asked again.
She spun around and faced Amuleta.
The Magoza that Amuleta had come to know in the woods was gone.
Here stood the battle-hardened warrior, and her intense eyes were locked on Amuleta.
“My father was a great man. He is no longer here but is in the afterlife serving Nogora,” Amuleta said proudly.
Every orc knew of the legend of the great goddess.
It was told to little orcs when they were mere babes as bedtime stories.
Her father ensured she knew why they prayed to Nogora every night before bedtime.
Nogora was once a warrior with unmatched fury.
She was known to be a shield to her kin and a blade against all who sought to break them.
This was during the time when orcs wandered as nomads and hunted to survive.
War had broken out, and even though orcs had won, the land had turned against them.
The soil withered, the rivers ran dry, and famine was amongst them.
Nogora decided to sacrifice herself to keep her people from dying out.
Nogora offered her own heart to the heavens in the name of her people.
The gods, so moved by her gift, decided to not let her die.
Instead, they remade her into something greater—a goddess of war and bounty, a guardian of the orcish future.
Her father should no longer be punished for the love of his family.
He had given his all for not only her and her mother, but for their people as well.
There was no other place he would be after death than serving their goddess.
Amuleta stood to her full height and met Magoza’s stare head-on.
“My father was the great warrior, Xagok Sesh.”