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“Aye,” he murmured, sinking back against his anvil, his hand reaching behind him for my blade. “Then I will fix it well, pretty little human.”

There it was again, that name. Half mocking, half…fond? Did he call the other women in the village such things?

Gulping down my confused response, and hating the way my heart had not stopped pounding fiercely in his presence, I gripped my cloak and whirled.

And ran away.

Mayhap Vartok was right.

Mayhap I did lack courage.

By the time I reached the little cottage I shared with Avaleen and Mkaalad, my heartbeat had returned to normal, at least, and I hoped my distress wasn’t obvious to my sister and her husband. I didn’t want to have to explain what had happened, and how Vartok made me feel.

Especially since I wasn’t certain myself.

“There you are,” Avaleen breathed in relief, her hands planted on the arms of the comfortable chair in front of the hearth.

I immediately surged toward her. “What is it? Are you in pain? Is aught amiss?” My gaze skimmed her face, looking for signs of early labor.

“Everything is fine,” she said, laughter in her voice. “I am just stuck. Help me out of here, will you? I need to start supper.”

Clucking my tongue, I reached for her to help hoist her bulk from the chair, even as I suggested the opposite. “Or you can stay right there and rest and watch me cook supper.”

“Mkaalad threatened to kick you out if I allowed you to cook biscuits. He likes mine,” she said proudly, as she wobbled on her feet and cupped both hands under her stomach. “Mayhap I could teach you.”

I snorted and smacked her shoulder as I crossed behind her to fetch the mixing bowl.

“ I taught you , little sister. But ‘tis good your Mate likes your cooking. Mayhap I should let him kick me out.”

I loved Avaleen, of course I did—I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And I adored her husband, the enthusiastic and sometimes foolish Mkaalad. His grandmother had been the clan’s only healer, and now I worked closely with her. Aye, I loved them all, but sometimes…I wished for my own space.

Since I hadn’t crossed the veil until after Avaleen was pregnant, Mkaalad had insisted I move in with them, in order to care for his Mate. Since that was the reason I was here, to ensure my niece or nephew had a healthy entrance into the world, I had been grateful.

But do you know how awkward it can be to sit at the breakfast table and know what the couple enthusiastically slurping their porridge across from you had been doing until the wee hours of the morning ?

Orcs didn’t think of sex as taboo, and neither was speaking of it. And it seemed that there was an unwritten rule in the village that all Mated women would laugh and joke about the pleasure they received from their Mates.

But hearing about that pleasure was different from actually listening to it, and the cottage was small.

When I turned back, the ingredients for the biscuits piled in the bowl, my sister looked hurt. Of course, these days, her emotions flipped from one extreme to another, and I had to remind myself she still had another fortnight before the bairn came.

“Myra, you want to leave?”

“Oh, love,” I murmured, finding space on the cluttered table and opening my arms to her. “Soon your son or daughter will need the space where my bed is. Once you give birth, I will move in with Nan. You know that has been the plan.”

They needed their privacy to bond with their child, and I told myself I shouldn’t be looking forward to the chance to leave. I would still be living in someone else’s space, Nan’s spare bed. I wouldn’t have my own space.

I never had.

“I do not want you to leave,” sniffed Avaleen against my shoulder, and I stifled my sigh as I rubbed her back, knowing this was just part of the last days of pregnancy.

“Aye, you do. Or you will, once you and Mkaalad are settled.” I gently extracted myself and nudged her toward the kitchen table. “Sit down, I will pour you a wee dram of ale, and we can start on those biscuits your Mate hates. ”

“He likes my biscuits,” my sister muttered, following my directions.

I did allow her to work on the biscuits as I chopped more vegetables to add to the constantly simmering pottage.

And I’ll admit that I gave her a bit more than a dram of the ale.

My mother had seen naught wrong with a pregnant woman having ale or wine toward the end of the pregnancy, and I could admit that it seemed to calm mothers-to-be a bit.

In fact, Avaleen was laughing and joking when Mkaalad returned home, his hair damp from bathing. I assumed he’d been sparring with the other warriors, and for a moment wondered if Vartok had gone with the men to the hot springs as well.

He’d been hot and sweaty from the forge…

Stop that. You do not like him, remember? He treats you coldly, then has the ballocks to call you icy! It should not matter that he was overworked and underappreciated…

“Sit, sit,” Avaleen ordered with a chuckle, pouring two more mugs of ale and putting them at our spots. “Myra, you will have to drink with Mkaalad, so the poor dear does not have to drink alone.”

I swung my gaze to her Mate, who had lifted his mug and was giving me a look that reminded me of my uncle’s young pup when he wanted something.

Fine. Well, I suppose I could have a serving or two, if it kept both of them happy.

God knew Mkaalad was more nervous about his Mate’s coming ordeal than Avaleen herself.

This was, perhaps, a bad idea.

Because Mkaalad became bawdy when he drank .

“An orc’s cock was made for pleasure.” His words were too concise, proving four mugs of ale were beginning to affect him. “Tell her, Avaleen.”

“Oh, I have told her, Mate,” my sister giggled, winking at me. “We have all told her.”

“An orc’s cock will make his partner climax as soon as he enters her,” her Mate explained earnestly, as if I hadn’t heard it before. “’Tis intended to ease his way and prepare her for birthing his bairns.”

“That is why we practice so often,” Avaleen laughed, and Mkaalad followed.

I hastily gulped my own ale, hoping they wouldn’t notice my dark skin flushing even more. As the midwife who’d lived here in Bloodfire Village since last summer, I’d heard it all . The Mated women not only joked with one another, but assumed I should know about it all as well.

Or mayhap they assumed I did know it already.

After all, I was educated in the ways of healing, in women’s woes, and in childbirth. Surely they expected me to have personal experience with how the bairn got into his mother’s womb in the first place.

Oh Lord.

“Ye see, Myra—” Mkaalad began, but I interrupted him.

“I know!” I blurted, then took a deep draught of the ale to calm my nerves. “I mean to say, I have heard it all before.”

“Aye, but until ye choose a lover and actually understand?—”

I swung on my sister. “Avie, stop giggling, ‘tis not so funny! ”

“It is,” she laughed, her weight on her elbows as she smirked at me. “You have put up with our teasing and descriptions, and you sit there and pretend you are worldly and experienced?—”

“How do you know I am not?” I shot back in irritation.

“Because, lass,” her Mate answered, his own goofy grin in place, “orcs have a brilliant sense of smell. Ye’re embarrassed by this conversation.”

“I am not,” I ground out, sipping as haughtily as I could from the ale. “I know plenty about pleasure.”

All of it learned in my bed. Under the blankets. With my own fingers.

Mkaalad snorted and toasted me with his ale. “There are plenty of unMated males in this village who would thank the gods for the chance to teach a female like ye about pleasure, Myra. Choose one. We dinnae think of pleasure as something shameful, ye ken that.”

“I—I know,” I managed. And I did know. I’d seen my fair share of couples making love out in the fresh air to understand that. But…the idea of taking a casual lover…

Avaleen sat forward, a wicked sparkle in her dark eyes. “Do it, sister. You will not regret it. Orcs are very talented with their tongues.”

I knew I was blushing darkly at the thought of a male with his face between my legs…

Nay, not just a male . In that moment, when Avaleen had said that and I conjured a picture of it happening…the male wore beads in his braids and his lips were curled in a wicked grin .

Vartok .

He was rumored to know more about pleasure than any male in the village. ‘Twas said he was a caring and generous lover, and a woman could do worse than learn about desire from him.

I hastily gulped my ale, hoping my sister couldn’t guess my thoughts.

But Mkaalad’s grin made me wonder if he had.

I swallowed more of the sweet liquid, already feeling my head swirling.

Orcs are very talented with their tongues .

I wanted that.

I deserved that.

I was a midwife who knew naught of pleasure.

Staring down into the depths of my ale, I took a deep breath and admitted the truth. I wanted to learn about pleasure and desire and the things a generous orc lover could do with his tongue.

I gulped more of the ale to bolster my courage.

I knew just the male I wanted to ask.