Page 50 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

brOVDIR

B rovdir found Sythcol where he usually was, within Ergoth’s study with scrolls surrounding him and dim candlelight casting deep shadows around his slender frame.

“Leave me.” His voice wavered as he buried his head in his hands.

“No,” Brovdir said. He could not. Should not have in the past either.

Sythcol looked up at him with a sneer. “You already won this, Brovdir. I’ve lost. I can’t change your mind despite all logic, and I accept that.”

“Don’t want to win.”

“Oh, you don’t?” He sat up, crossed his arms over his chest.

“I want to be partners.”

Sythcol’s eyes widened and then he let out a dry laugh that did not meet his eyes. “Partners? You really think that’s possible now?”

Brovdir’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t give me that. You know you’ve betrayed me in this,” Sythcol snapped. “You know how hard I’ve been working. Slaving. And now you’re going to undo it just like that .” He snapped his fingers. “All because some woman wants you to?—”

“Don’t speak of her.” Brovdir growled so low it felt like embers sparking in his guts.

Sythcol gritted his teeth and straightened his back, but said nothing.

“You know it’s not her.” Brovdir worked around the agony in his throat to get the words out. “She showed me, but that’s all. I’ve made my own mind.”

“And with it, you’ve betrayed me. Your partner in this.

The one person you are supposed to rely on in this clan.

You think she knows the situation better than I do?

You think her words hold more weight than mine?

I’ve been the lead conjurer for this clan since I was a mere sixteen summers .

I’ve been making the bulk of your healing tinctures since I was barely eighteen.

You see your scars. Half of those were healed by my magic. ”

Fades, had this male really been forced to toil for so long? Sythcol may not have gone to battle, but he had just as many scars as Brovdir and wore them in the blackness of his hands, the wrinkles in his brow, the resignment in his eyes.

All caused by the pressure Ergoth had forced upon him. Pressure that was still building now.

“I’ve worked so hard for my whole life to keep our kind safe. And now you want to just undo all of it ?”

“Not undoing the safety ,” Brovdir said slowly. “Undoing Ergoth’s lies .”

Sythcol’s jaw tightened.

“Undoing that vile male’s control . He wanted the divide,” Brovdir said. “ He wanted you fearful. To control you. To keep you.”

Sythcol’s eyes went huge at that.

“We are the same, Sythcol. We’ve only ever lived in fear and taken orders. It’s time to release that fear and do what is right .”

Sythcol trembled, swallowed. His eyes went shimmery and wet as he whispered, “I don’t know how.”

And as if on cue, a bird swooped into the room and dropped onto Sythcol’s shoulder. The conjurer snatched the note tied to its leg so fast that the bird squawked and a few feathers escaped as it darted away.

“What?” Brovdir grated as Sythcol’s eyes widened in distress. The male was frozen to the spot. Unblinking and pale.

“What!” Brovdir demanded and Sythcol finally jerked his gaze up.

“It’s a sinkhole at the edge of Oakwall.”