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CHAPTER TEN

Verna

‘Twas possible I loved this cottage even more than Jorak’s home by the stone circle. I loved how comfortable ‘twas. There were several windows—shuttered now against the cold midwinter morning—and when I went out to dump the piss pot I was delighted to find a garden.

A garden!

Overgrown now, aye, but how pleasant it would be to grow things once more, to feel dirt under my nails and the satisfaction of eating a carrot I grew.

Mayhap I stood there for a moment, admiring the barren, snow-covered fenced area, before remembering this wasn’t my garden, this wasn’t my home. I had no right to imagine a future here.

Because I wasn’t going to be here.

I washed my hands and went back inside to prepare a morning meal, only to remember we hadn’t been here long enough to have supplies. Last night, after Jorak returned from stabling the horses, a knock at the door revealed a lean, grinning orc and a very pregnant human.

“Welcome to Bloodfire Village!” she’d declared, thrusting a bundle of food into my arms and pushing past me to stand near the shuttered window. Her dark skin looked flushed and she fanned herself.

“I am Avaleen, this is Mkaalad, my Mate.”

I was staring at her belly. Jorak had told me humans Mated with orcs, but seeing the evidence before me was a little disconcerting.

But, remembering my manners, I blurted, “Verna! I…I have been staying with Jorak.”

Her mate had clasped Jorak’s arm and was pumping it vigorously, disregarding the one-armed male’s scowl.

“Congratulations, cousin! We’re glad to have ye back.”

“I’m no’ back.” Jorak pulled his hand away and propped it on his hip, his brows lowering further. “Just escorting Verna.”

Mkaalad made a noise of understanding and exchanged glances with his wife—his Mate , who merely rolled her eyes and smirked.

“Males can be such idiots, aye Verna?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I asked the first question that came to me.

“You are cousins?”

“Everyone is a cousin, it seems like,” Avaleen laughed. “Mkaalad is Torvolk’s twin, and they are cousins with Vartok and Kragorn. The Keeper is their…” She pursed her lips, deep in thought.

“Second cousin,” growled Jorak. “ At best .”

“Och, just because ye dinnae like us doesnae mean ye dinnae have to claim us!” Mkaalad slapped the other male’s shoulder. “Ye’re family.”

Jorak’s scowl had eased to a look of…I saw confusion in his eyes, which had been green since we’d arrived at the village.

“I never said I dinnae like ye.”

“We ken the truth, though, with ye hiding away.”

“I’m…needed at the stones.” But Jorak didn’t meet anyone’s eyes when he said that. “Things are neater there.”

“And chaotic here,” his cousin agreed. “But ‘tis part of the fun!”

When he extended his arm to his Mate, Avaleen gave me a quick hug—her stomach really was huge—and bustled after him, leaving Jorak and me alone in the cozy cottage with enough bread, cheese, and sausage to feed an army.

Or rather, a Jorak. He’d finished most of it for supper before lying on the bed and rolling away from me. I’d tried not to be hurt by that, telling myself he’d made it clear he was just dropping me off and would be returning to his neatly ordered space.

Now I searched for any of the leftovers, thinking to prepare a simple meal for us…but I was still searching when another knock came at the door. Jorak came out from behind the screen and crossed to the portal, yanking it open with bad grace I hadn’t seen from him since the first day I’d met him.

“What?” he barked, then promptly backed up.

My brows rose when I saw why.

“Jorak, kitling, ye’ve spent too long away from home!” The old woman—a human—was shuffling toward him, her arms open, clearly hoping to embrace him. “’Tis about time ye returned!”

Jorak’s arse bumped into the table before he apparently realized ‘twas ignoble to run from an elderly woman. I saw his eyes roll to the ceiling only slightly as he bent and allowed her to pull his cheek down for a wet kiss, and tried not to giggle.

“Hello, Nan,” he announced with a sigh.

This was Nan? How wonderful to meet her so soon!

Mayhap I made a sound, because the old woman turned to me, her arms spread again. “And ye brought a Mate! Lovely Verna, welcome to the village!” she announced, taking me in her arms with a gentle squeeze.

I’d never had a grandmother, and I didn’t remember my mother. If she’d been alive after Da’s death, mayhap Jerome wouldn’t have sold me to cover his debts. But this hug? The way Nan’s breath ruffled my hair? I closed my eyes, wondering if this was what a mother’s embrace felt like.

After too short a time, she straightened and clapped her hands together.

“I’m so happy ye’re here. We have much to discuss.”

Jorak, who’d been watching me with a gentleness I hadn’t expected, now shook his head as if to clear it, and barked.

“Discuss what?”

Nan waved dismissively. “Och, no’ ye, ye silly lad. Ye go have a nice chat with Vartok and Mkaalad. I’m stealing Verna away to ken her better. Och, here!” Almost as an afterthought, she dug into her satchel and pulled out a bundle wrapped in a towel. “I made ye a sausage roll, laddie, I ken they’re yer favorites.”

The look on Jorak’s face as he unwrapped the treat was…well, I suppose the closest I could call it was awe .

“I havenae tasted one in…” he began, but trailed off as he turned the large roll in his hands.

“Since ye left us, aye.” Nan’s tone was as gentle as her pat on his forearm. “I’ve missed ye—and the way ye enjoy my baking—as much as the rest of the village has. Run along now, that’s a good laddie.”

It was almost funny to see the bemusement on Jorak’s face as she pushed him out the door. But she didn’t close it. Instead, she gestured to me.

“Come along, lassie, we’re going to my home where I have some treats for ye.”

I didn’t ask what they were—another sausage roll?—but gathered up the apple spread and the deed and followed her through the village.

“Bloodfire Village is a lovely place to live.” The old woman sent me a knowing smile. “All of us here have found so much happiness with our Mates.”

“Aye,” I agreed softly, looking around. “I can see that.”

‘Twas too bad I could not stay.

“Here we are, Verna,” Nan announced, sweeping me toward a well-kept cottage that shared a garden with another. “Let us see what I have for ye…”

‘Twas not the cakes and tea laid out on the table that made me gasp with delight, but…

“Isadora!” I cried, hurrying to hug the other woman. “Ye are safe? Ye are well?”

Laughing, she embraced me. “I am ! Torvolk saved me!” She pulled back to hold me at arm’s length. “Verna, I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me.”

I scoffed, but fingered her butchered hair.

“I did naught. Not enough.” Although what I could have done to protect her from Alred’s cruelty, I didn’t know. “I am sorry.”

Isadora merely smiled and pulled me into a hug.

“You comforted me when I needed comfort. But how are you here? I have only been here for a sennight, so you must have crossed through the veil the same time I did? Oh, I am sorry, where are my manners? This is Myra.”

Her words and questions had come at me quickly, and I wasn’t sure which I was supposed to respond to, until that last one. Isadora turned me to face the hearth, where a pretty dark-skinned woman nodded solemnly.

“Myra, this is Verna, who—she was at the tavern that night. She protected me.”

“I did not.” I wasn’t going to allow her to paint me as a hero. “I merely gave you a hug.”

“A hug I needed .” Isadora’s arm was still around me, as if she could offer comfort in return. “I have hoped I would have the chance to thank you.”

I knew I was blushing.

“What were you doing there?” Myra asked quietly, her expression carefully neutral.

I lifted my chin.

“Whoring. I was doing what Alred wanted Isadora to do, and when Torvolk bought her, I saw my chance to run.”

Myra’s expression softened just slightly, and something like regret flickered in her dark eyes.

“If you have aught to discuss, aught I can do to help…”

Nan stepped up the table, interrupting our reunion.

“Myra is a midwife,” she announced matter-of-factly. “She’s here for her sister Avaleen’s confinement, but she’s been helping me with all manner of healings.”

Och, now I was definitely blushing, unable to meet their eyes.

“Nay, I…I am…” I swallowed. “I am clean. I have no need of your services.”

Myra merely nodded, but Isadora squeezed me.

“But how are you here ?”

Before I could answer, Nan clucked her tongue.

“Tea! Cakes! I baked all last night so we could have this treat, and ye can catch up as we break our fast!”

“Nan is passionate about sweets,” Myra whispered as an aside as we took our places, and I saw mischief sparkling in her dark eyes. “And being in charge of the conversation.”

Rather than deny the accusations, the older woman just cackled and demanded Isadora pour the tea.

My stomach was too tight to eat, but I bit into the seedcake to be polite. My eyes widened.

“Oh my !” I mumbled. It was delicious !

Isadora chuckled in agreement, and while Nan preened, even Myra’s stern facade eased.

“I told you,” she murmured, serving herself. “Nan takes her sweets seriously.”

My stomach might still be knotted, but I wasn’t going to miss the chance to eat something this good—honey and tartness burst over my tongue.

“Jorak would love this.”

It wasn’t until Nan chuckled that I realized what I’d revealed. Aye, so I knew his likes…I’d been living with him for a sennight.

More than living with him .

Well, aye.

“Lassie, drink yer tea and get comfortable.” Nan nudged my mug closer. “I think Isadora will burst if ye dinnae explain how ye came to be in our world, and with our Keeper nae less.”

Our world . The woman was as human as the rest of us, but she spoke like an orc. I glanced around the table. Isadora was Mated to Torvolk, although I guessed there was a story there. What about Myra? There were so many human women here in Bloodfire Village, and it seemed so ideal.

I wished I could stay.

But to protect them, I would need to go far away.

Still, I took a deep breath and began my story.

I told of my brother’s bargain with Alred, and the contract, and how Jorak had discovered Alred’s deceit. I told of Isadora’s escape providing the distraction I needed, and how I’d stolen all of his scrolls and followed her. She took my hand and squeezed when I spoke of the terror of crossing into the mist, and how Alred hadn’t followed me through the stones. And when I spoke of following her and Torvolk, Myra made a clucking noise.

“’Twas foolish, Verna. The village is hours’ ride from the stones. You could not walk it.”

I shrugged. “I did not know that. All I knew was that Jorak did not want company, and he sounded…”

“Grumpy as a sick bear,” supplied Nan. “And not half as cute.”

“Jorak is a fine male.” I bristled. “And quite handsome.”

“I ken it, lassie,” Nan said with a teasing wink. “I’m glad ye see it as well.”

Myra was glancing between us. “I came to this village at midsummer, aye? I thought I knew everyone here by now, and most of the traveling traders. So…” She gestured with her mug. “Who in the hell is Jorak?”

“Och, lassie, dinnae be daft,” Nan cackled. “’Tis the Keeper!”

Myra’s eyes had widened. “The Keeper has a name?”

When Isadora giggled, Myra realized how foolish that had sounded, and scoffed to herself, “Oh, for fook’s sake, Myra, of course the Keeper has a name.” Shaking her head in disgust, Myra lifted her mug to her lips. “Sorry. I have only ever heard him called Keeper .”

“That was how Torvolk introduced me to him as well,” Isadora offered shyly. “Is his name well-known?”

Nan munched happily on her cake. “He’s related to half the clan, so they’ll recall his name soon enough when he returns to us. He’s been hiding at the stones for years, punishing himself, telling himself ‘tis the best for everyone, including himself.” She winked at me. “Verna here is teaching him differently.”

Was I?

I admit, my heart leapt at the old woman’s certainty of Jorak’s return to his clan, but at the same time, I was sad to know I wouldn’t be here to see it.

“So you trotted out after Isadora and Torvolk on foot?” Myra prompted me to return to my tale. “But you did not make it to the village.”

“Nay.” I winced in embarrassment and tried to hide behind my tea. “About the time the snow started, I realized how foolish I had been. I…” I closed my eyes as I remembered the terror. “I thought I would die there. Jorak saved me.”

It seemed such a simple phrase. Jorak saved me . He had saved me, in so many ways. He’s saved my life. He’d given me a place. And…he’d shown me caring. Gentleness I hadn’t imagined. And pleasure.

Dear God, the pleasure!

“Ah.” Myra hummed knowingly. “And I suspect that look is meaningful as well.”

Before I could sputter a denial—although should I?—Isadora changed the topic.

“The snow came the day after the full moon. You were likely trapped in his cottage?” She patted my arm consolingly. “The Keeper did not strike me as an easy man to live with.”

I found myself bristling again. “He is gruff, aye, but kind and gentle. He was worried—” Nay, that wasn’t the right way to say it. “He knew I would disrupt his order, but he allowed me to stay.”

And he did not ask for my body in return. He thinks I am worth plenty as I am!

“He seems to like my cooking, and…and he is teaching me to read!”

The other women made impressed noises at that announcement, and I nodded, relieved to have turned the topic.

“Jorak read Alred’s contracts, and we learned how he had cheated so many women. And…” I scrambled for the scroll I brought and laid it beside Nan. “And I learned that his tavern actually belongs to Lars Weaver.”

Isadora and Myra didn’t seem to understand, but I was watching Nan. The older woman’s fingers shook just slightly as she opened the scroll.

“Really?” she whispered. “I…havenae thought of my father in years.”

“Jorak says you are his only child,” I murmured. “So the deed should go to you.”

The old woman frowned down at the letters, letters I could only now recognize thanks to Jorak’s hours of patient teaching.

“I dinnae need it or want it.”

“Alred’s tavern belongs to you, Nan?” Isadora asked. “’Tis a fine building.”

“That just means he will want the deed back,” warned Myra in that blunt way of hers.

I stared bleakly down at my cake and whispered, “I know.”

I did know. The veil might only open once a month, but at the next full moon, after the Midwinter Festival…he would be waiting. I knew it.

“Nan,” Isadora interrupted my dread. “Will you tell us about your life before your Mate stole you away? Did you live on a farm like Myra?”

The older woman’s fingers wrapped around the scroll, but her expression slowly softened into a smile.

“My grandfather had a farm, but my mother’s family kept sheep, and she and my father made wool?—”

“Oh, Weaver .” The blonde woman pulled her hand from my arm and scooped up her cake. “I should have realized.”

“I still dinnae like the smell of wet sheep,” Nan confessed, and Myra grunted an agreement. “Nasty creatures. Sorry if you like them, Verna.”

Drawn back into the conversation, I shook my head, forcing myself to focus on the here and now, not the fear of the future.

“I was raised on a farm, and I never liked them…but I like them better than goats.”

Myra’s breath burst from her in what might have been a laugh. “Aye, definitely. Chickens or ducks?”

Nan shared a story about a friend of hers whose ducks laid the most delicious eggs, and I found myself telling my new friends about Jorak’s brown hen, and all our names for her.

The morning grew late, and we helped prepare a meal, then we tackled chores Nan needed help with, and I felt… welcomed . Never in my life had I had true friends. At the farm ‘twas just Da and my brothers, then later, Alred’s other whores. I had kept my own council.

But Isadora had changed that. I’d comforted her, had felt her pain…and when she’d escaped, it had made me brave enough to try. Because in that moment in the tavern, she’d become my friend. And now?

And now I had more friends. Nan. Isadora. Myra. Avaleen. The other women whose names I heard. They were welcoming me, glad to have me here in Bloodfire Village. A place where one family wasn’t above another because of greed. A place where women were not only valued, but cherished . Protected. A place where children…

Well, Myra explained that orcish children were only conceived between Mated pairs. So sex wasn’t considered taboo; ‘twas actually encouraged as “practice” before young people found their Mates. So when children were born, they were born to strong, loving partnerships, and were never unwanted.

‘Twas a beautiful place, one that seemed almost magically impossible after the horrors of the last five years.

I wanted to stay here.

But I couldn’t bring danger down on their heads.