Page 49 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

“Oh... uh. Yes, because it is hers.” Or at least it was . It was Ronhold’s now.

“Shouldn’t it be yours?”

What?

“It was your grandmother’s. Then your mother’s. Now yours.”

Oh. That’s what he meant. “Well, that’s only because . . . because . . .”

Because why?

Her throat tightened with confusion. Her heart quailed against a truth that she did not want to name. She wasn’t ready. She’d lost so much already. She didn’t want to give up yet.

Brovdir came back and settled back down at her feet. He had a healing tincture in one hand and held it out to her. “Found this. Drink.”

His voice sounded rough. She reached out and gently touched the scar at his throat. “Is it hurting?”

His lips quirked in a half smile. “Too much groaning.”

Her cheeks heated. They had been loud. She wondered if everyone in the hall heard them. “You should drink it then.”

He shook his head. “Won’t help.”

“Why?”

“Too old. Nothing left to heal.” He pushed the tincture into her hand. “Drink, and the bite will be gone. Like it never happened.”

Like it never happened. Her heart squeezed in her chest. “No.”

He tipped his head, eyes wide. “No?”

Biscuits, he was so cute. “I want to keep it. I don’t want to forget this. Being with you. Not that I ever would , I just... I’ve lost so much in the last few days but gained much too. This included.”

His face lit up with delight, so vibrant it lit up the whole room. It bloomed her own happiness so high she felt like she was floating. She leaned forward to kiss him.

“brOVDIR!”

The rage-laced shout cracked like a whip around them, and Trinia jumped. Brovdir gripped her shoulder and looked toward the door with narrowed eyes.

“What was that?” Trinia asked.

“Sythcol,” Brovdir said.

“Where the fuck is he? I can scent him here!”

Footsteps stormed toward the storeroom and the door would have burst off its hinges had the barrel not been in the way.

“Brovdir! I can scent you in there! Come out now!”

Brovdir flinched but said, “One moment.” He began to dress while she straightened her clothes.

Then they exited the room and every scrap of tenderness disappeared.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Sythcol’s booming voice thundered off the walls of the tree, vibrating all around them like a storm of fury. He charged toward them, eyes wild, vibrant purple robes billowing in his haste.

Brovdir gripped her tight around the middle and pulled her behind his back.

“How dare you!” Sythcol’s bellow dripped with venom.

Behind him, she could see the other orcs watching with wide, shocked eyes.

“How dare you schedule to meet with the human headman without discussing it with me first! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re going to speak on!

You’re going to tell him I’m not fit to lead, aren’t you? ”

Not fit to lead? What?

“No.” Brovdir’s voice was tinged with confusion. “I will tell him about the sinkholes.”

“The sinkholes?” Sythcol blinked his damp eyes and shook his head as if trying to clear it. “That’s not... You aren’t allowed to do that either .”

“I must.” Brovdir’s voice was solid, but his posture was slightly hunched. “Things have changed.”

“Changed so fast you couldn’t even bother to tell me? Changed so fast you couldn’t consult me at all? Changed so fast you forgot that I am your partner in this? How dare you treat me like I’m beneath you!”

“Meant no disrespect.” Brovdir bowed his head.

“You’ve done far worse than disrespect me! You’ve betrayed me!” Sythcol’s eyes were wild and reflecting the flames from the cooking fires. “Now the humans will use this as leverage against us!”

“Leverage?” Trinia stepped around Brovdir so she could get a better look at Sythcol. “What do you mean?”

“For more boons! More services! More magic !” Sythcol roared into her face. His breath smelled of rot. His skin was a glassy grayish green, and his cheeks were hollow. “Magic I do not have the energy to provide?—”

Boom!

Trinia jumped and the floor beneath her feet rumbled. It took a moment for her to realize that Brovdir had slammed his heel into the solid wood floor. It was a wonder it hadn’t cracked the tree open.

“Are you going to challenge me, Brovdir?” Sythcol’s posture was tight, and his arms came up as if poised to protect himself should Brovdir lunge.

Trinia gripped the back of Brovdir’s shirt and tugged. “I’m all right, Brovdir. Please. Don’t.”

He snapped his gaze to her, and she could see the anger there. She wasn’t too pleased that Sythcol had yelled at her either, but attacking him wasn’t the answer. Especially because there was clearly something wrong.

“This isn’t like him,” Trinia whispered to Brovdir. “Sythcol isn’t like this.”

“Don’t speak like I can’t fucking hear you.” Sythcol’s voice was shrill. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

The inflection in his tone was so odd and unnerving that it made her blink.

“I’m going to tell Oakwall.” Brovdir let the words echo in the hall, strong and certain. “Sinkholes, prophecy, warriors. All of it.”

Her chest swelled with pride.

Sythcol looked ready to combust from the rage simmering behind his eyes. “You will not.”

“I will,” Brovdir insisted. “You can come or not, but I will.”

Sythcol’s face contorted. “You will obey my orders! I am the reason you thrive. This clan would be nothing without my rule.”

A deadly quiet settled on everyone and everything in the hall. Even the fire hesitated to crackle as the venomous weight of Sythcol’s words rocked every one of them to their core.

Including Sythcol.

His whole body went slack. His eyes widened. A fine sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Brovdir exhaled slowly. “Orders do not suit between us, fellow chief. We work in tandem. Together. I am not yours to command.”

She expected Sythcol to continue arguing. To clench his teeth. To shout. To whirl around in a dramatic huff and storm out of the room with a veiled threat.

Instead, the male’s expression twisted as if he were about to weep. He shrank back, curled in on himself.

And then he fled the room.

Trinia was awash with confusion at the odd reaction. Brovdir’s tension told her he was just as befuddled. Even the males on the opposite end of the hall seemed speechless. The tension was so tangible it was like breathing through stone.

A light touch fluttered at the small of her back and she looked up at Brovdir. His expression had fallen into one of exhaustion. “I need to speak with him.”

“Take your time,” Trinia assured. “I’ll wait here for you.”