Page 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jorak

My Kteer had won. I’d completely lost control of myself, my reserve, and my intentions. And let it be known: I had no regrets.

Because Verna was mine . Mine in every way. That first time I’d claimed her, with her spread out on the table like that? Sheer perfection. But as I’d told her, ‘twas not the way things should be done.

‘Twas my job, as her Mate, to fulfill her in every way.

And I spent the night—and the next day, and the next night, and a few days after that—doing so.

I lost count of the number of times I made her scream, but I knew my heart would never get enough of the look of wonder on her face each and every time I did.

I quickly learned that my favorite was the way she’d gasp in delight each time I entered her and her orgasm unexpectedly hit her. So I took great pride in doing that again and again. I would lick her until she found fulfillment, then enter her and watch her come a second time…then withdraw and feed and bathe her, denying my cock its release because of how miraculous Verna thought ‘twas.

And my cock could handle a wait. ‘Twas worth it.

Then came the morning when, to my surprise, she was awake before me. I slowly woke to the most delicious sensation, and it took me only a moment to identify it—Verna’s mouth on my cock.

I was already on the edge of the precipice, my body reacting to hers. But being awake, and seeing her red hair falling across my green skin as her swollen lips struggled to take more and more of my ridges?

I nearly came then and there.

“ Dkaar !” I blurted, reaching for her. “What are ye doing? ‘Tis my responsibility to?—”

My cock popped from her mouth.

“Hush, love,” she commanded. “I am making you feel good.”

Och, aye, she was!

“If ye continue that, I’ll spill in yer mouth,” I warned sternly.

“Aye, and I will lick it all up. Lie down, Jorak, I am very, very good at this.”

She was.

My cock was thick and she could only get a fraction of it down her throat, but that didn’t stop her from bobbing enthusiastically, her palms and fingers spreading her saliva across my ridges, clamping me tightly.

My hand went to her head, my fingers wrapping through her hair in wonder. I had heard that some females did such things for their Mates, but I never imagined… The act felt differently than sex, but I liked it very much. I think ‘twas the involvement of her tongue.

“Verna,” I gasped, unable to hold myself in check. “I’m going to…”

When she hummed, I felt it throughout my body.

I came with a wordless roar, thrusting upward into her mouth. My Mate, despite her best intentions, wasn’t able to take it all. On the first spurt, my seed spilled from her mouth as she opened it. The second spurt hit her forehead and hair, and by then she was laughing too hard to notice when the third spurt coated her red curls.

I found myself chuckling at her joy, which made her laugh harder.

Aye, it made my heart happy—and my Kteer proud—to know I’d brought her such joy. Such satisfaction.

After that, I bundled her into her red cloak and an old gown and took her to the hot springs where I washed her hair and body. Then I laid her out on the little stone ledge to clean her with my tongue then do it all over again until she was languid and sated from the heat and the pleasure.

When we returned to the cottage, we found a full meal waiting for us, which was more satisfying than the dried meats, cheeses, and tarts we’d been making do with so far.

“Where is this all coming from?” Verna asked in surprise as I poured her some ale.

“Our clan members are happy for us. They ken we will be…occupied, and uninterested in providing our own food, so they’ve been dropping off provisions for us. One day ‘twill be our turn to provide for another couple going through their Mating heat.”

Because aye, I would stay here in the village. Vartok had made it clear how much he valued my council and insights, and had already begun to speak of me teaching the kitlings. I admit I wasn’t thrilled at the thought of being surrounded by so much chaos all the time, but I would gladly do it for the sake of my Mate.

The lads Vartok had sent to my byre-cottage by the stones had already returned with the bulk of my scrolls, my personal belongings, both cows, and the chickens. The gods below knew how they’d managed that, but it meant there was no need to hurry back. When the full moon approached, I would return to the cottage to monitor the pathway, and mayhap my Mate would go with me.

I would welcome the opportunity to be alone—with her—once more.

Aye, although I never thought I would be comfortable among my clan again, I was learning to be. No one faulted me for my mistake which cost me my arm. During sparring, the warriors cheered for me just as much as my opponent, and I was grateful for their suggestions and help. I would never again go to battle, but I would be capable of protecting my Mate and clan if necessary.

‘Twas easy enough to get overwhelmed with so many beings around me when I was used to the solitude of my byre-cottage…but Verna made everything better. I could retreat to her arms and know ‘twas worth it.

She belonged here in Bloodfire Village, and I belonged with her.

Two days before Midwinter Festival, I woke her with my tongue. I licked her gently, my weight supported by the remains of my right arm and my knees resting on the fur on the floor I’d placed there for just that purpose.

Grinning against her wet, pliant cunny, I realized we’d made many changes to this cottage on the outskirts of the village. ‘Twas our home now, and I for one was looking forward to spending the next fifty years here with my Mate.

I knew the moment she woke, because Verna stretched and hummed, her hand dropping to my hair to hold me in place. I loved how she’d become so good at this, so ready to accept pleasure, and give it in return.

Her legs opened wider, allowing my tongue to thrust inside her and curl upward, while my thumb gently rubbed the little nub of her pleasure.

“Jorak!” she gasped as her inner muscles suddenly clamped down hard on my tongue and her climax burst over her.

I could do naught but drink down her spend as she came on my face.

Fooking perfection .

When she released me, I slowly sat back, my aching tongue lapping her dew from my chin and lips.

“Good morning, Mate.”

Verna’s arms stretched languidly to each side.

“Hmmm. Good morning. That was a perfect way to waken.”

“Then I’ll endeavor to wake ye that way each morning. Are ye hungry?”

She sat up and studied me. “Ye seem different— Oh! Your eyes!”

Without thinking, I touched my cheek, below one eye.

“What about them?”

“There is no green.” She peered closer. “Since a few days after you saved me, your eyes have always had a spark of green in them, or sometimes even glowing green. Now they are just black again.”

Grinning slightly, I bent down to claim her lips. When I straightened, I told her matter-of-factly, “’Tis because the Mating Heat has been satisfied. My Kteer and I are in accord once more, and I am in control.”

“Pity,” she sighed as she swung out of bed, holding the blanket around her. “I like when you lose control.”

Snorting, I swatted her arse as she shuffled toward the screen to perform her ablutions, and I began to prepare our morning meal.

When she joined me, dressed in that lovely purple gown again, I had to pull her to me for a kiss. Aye, my Kteer was at peace, finally, and I could take a moment to revel in the harmony of having my Mate at my side.

But when I pulled away, Verna’s eyes looked…sad?

“What is wrong, Dkaar ?” I murmured.

Her smile seemed forced.

“Naught is wrong,” she promised, lifting one hand to cup my jaw gently. “I was just thinking how much I love you, and how happy I am here.”

She did not look happy. I studied her, wanting to fix her troubles.

“Will ye allow me to take care of ye?”

Now her smile turned impish, more like my Verna.

“I would say you have already taken care of me.”

With a scoff, I swatted her arse again and nudged her toward the table. “And now I will feed ye so ye have the strength to bear up under my ministrations.”

With a put-upon sigh, she threw herself into the chair.

“Work, work, work! You are so demanding.”

“Aye,” I growled, waggling my brows lewdly. “And as my Mate, ye must give into my demands!”

She giggled and I slid the honied porridge across the table to her.

“What are yer plans today?”

I will admit the last days had been hazy. Hadn’t she done laundry with the village females the day I went with the warriors to fetch the tree to burn at the Midwinter Festival?

“More time with yer friends?”

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Aye, I told Myra I would help her catalog her herbs. She helped Nan make the spice mixture for the festival’s wine and now needs to know what is left.”

I nodded, marveling at how domestic and natural it felt to be sitting here, breaking my fast with my Mate, discussing our plans for the day. Aye, I was right where I belonged.

So why couldn’t I ignore the nagging feeling that she wasn’t happy?

Verna

Today was…different.

As I hurried through the village, the hood of my cloak pulled tightly around my cheeks so I wouldn’t feel compelled to stop and chat with any of the humans and orcs who had become my friends, my chest felt heavy and tight.

I was mourning.

I was mourning something which hadn’t even happened yet.

I was mourning the loss of this support, these friendships…and Jorak.

Because now that his Heat was finished and his basic needs were satisfied, I knew ‘twas time for me to move on. I loved him, more than I thought possible, and I could not bring danger to him or his clan.

Now that I knew he was safe and settled and happy in his new home and could see how supportive those around him were, I could be satisfied to leave him.

Well, nay, I could not, but…at least I would know he was where he was supposed to be.

I knocked on Nan’s door and let myself in before she could answer. There were candles lit to combat the closed shutters, more than usual, and Myra bustled about, weighing and hanging herbs.

“Good morrow,” I called, focusing on my cloak, pretending all was well. “Where is Nan?”

“She is sitting with Avaleen.” Myra huffed out a breath as she stretched up to tie a bundle of rosemary to a line across the back of the cottage. “She says Leenie is likely to go into labor any day. ‘Tis frustrating, not knowing what to expect.”

But Myra had been in Bloodfire Village for half a year now, had she not?

“Have you helped with any other births?”

“Aye, three—one here in Bloodfire, and two for the Breakshield clan, our allies. But…this one…”

“Avaleen is your sister,” I agreed quietly. “I can understand why you would be nervous.”

Myra blew a raspberry in frustration and rolled her shoulders. “I do not like not knowing what to expect.”

My lips twitched. She was so like Jorak, with his rigid control and expectations.

Jorak has changed .

Aye, and so might Myra, one day.

“Tell me how I can help.”

“Not until you tell me everything.”

I raised my brow at the other woman, who now stood with her arms crossed expectantly.

“I—about what?”

Myra rolled her eyes. “You are here , looking conflicted, aye, but here . Which means the Mating Heat is complete? You are both sated?”

I felt myself flushing, and I concentrated on settling myself at the table.

“Well…aye? Mostly.”

“ Mostly ,” Myra huffed in what might have been a laugh. “The village has been making wagers on our Keeper and our Ranger, which one would break first.”

“This morning…” I kept my attention on my hands as I murmured, “Jorak told me the Heat was satisfied.”

Myra slid into the seat across from me. “And how was it?”

My gaze jerked up in shock. “The Heat?”

Her dark eyes were serious. “ All of it. My sister and Nan tease Isadora with talk of boundless pleasure, and the ways her Mate will bring her to climax. But…” She shrugged in that no-nonsense way of hers. “I thought mayhap ye could tell me specifics.”

Because I wasn’t related to her? Or because I’d been with so many males?

I took a deep breath. “’Twas…special. Magnificent . Jorak was…” How to explain? “He cared about me, about my pleasure, more than he cared for his own. ‘Tis a heady feeling.”

“His tongue…” Myra began, then locked her gaze over my shoulder as her voice dropped. “’Tis really ridged? Vartok likes to tease me, telling me ‘tis, but…”

Vartok? Interesting . I eyed the other woman. I’d only ever heard her complain about the male as being overbearing, annoying and too controlling. But now adding teasing to the mix?

The other woman took a deep breath. “I am a midwife who knows naught of pleasure. Naught of how pregnant mothers came to be in that state. Avaleen cannot tell me without giggling, so I thought…”

She thought she’d ask me. Well, if ‘twas one thing I knew, ‘twas males.

“Why not tell me how to help you, and we can talk as we work?”

A good idea, it turned out, because ‘twas easier to answer her questions about males and pleasure and orc cocks—and their abilities—when we weren’t actually looking at one another.

Myra had me sit and weigh the bundles and stems as she stripped and peeled the stems. The rosemary was one of the few herbs still growing in the garden, so the rest of the dried herbs we carefully collected into linen bags.

Through it all, Myra asked thoughtful and educated questions and I answered the best I could, although my cheeks burned. I told myself that sharing the intimate parts of my last sennight with Jorak would help Myra become a better midwife. I hoped.

Finally, though, the herbs were sorted and hung up, and her questions were answered. She was quiet as she bustled about, making tea for us, and I was grateful for the reprieve.

However, when she settled across from me with our mugs and a plate of oat cakes, she had a speculative look in her eyes.

Grateful for the soothing tea, I cocked my brow over the edge of the mug.

She sighed. “I was anxious to ask my questions, but that does not mean I did not see there was something wrong with you . I should have asked, but I found myself desperate to understand, so I could help Avaleen…”

I shook my head, wanting to put her at ease. “There is naught…” Naught you can help me with .

But Myra wasn’t believing it. “Are you worried about the festival? Assuming Midwinter Festival is like the midsummer one, ‘twill be chaotic and hectic, but fun. It begins in a few days at sunset and lasts a full day until the following sunset. Our days will start getting longer by then.”

My smile was weak and I focused on my tea.

“Something to look forward to, at least.”

“My friend, you are not acting as a woman who has been tupped and pleasured and sated for days and days. What is wrong ?”

Could I confide in her? This other woman was an outsider too; not Mated, living with her sister, without a real place of her own. Could she understand my dilemma?

Sighing, I placed my mug down and stared into the dark depths.

“I do not think I should be here by the festival. I need…I need to leave.”

To my surprise, my friend didn’t try to convince me I was wrong. She merely hummed.

“Why?”

“Nan’s deed,” I said simply. “And the contracts.”

Of course she was bright enough to understand.

“Ah. What was your old master’s name? The one who thinks he is the owner of the tavern, but the deed belongs to Nan?”

I should have remembered that she’d been the one to connect the two the first time I’d sat at this table with my new friends. I should have known she’d guess.

“Alred,” I whispered.

“You think he will try to get the deed back?”

“I know he will.” I turned anguished eyes to my friend. “He will need that deed and those contracts if he wants to continue the lifestyle he has created. He will come through the stones after me, on that next full moon.”

“And you think that if you run, he will follow you?” Myra’s tone was skeptical, but I nodded.

“He must . He has no idea I brought the deed here. He will expect me to run as far from him as possible, and I must do that, to keep him away from Bloodfire Village.”

She was studying me. “He might not come through.”

Nay. “If he does not come this month, then the next, or the next. I cannot put Nan in harm’s way. I cannot put any of you in harm’s way.”

I thought of Jorak, and how ashamed he was of his missing arm, lost in battle against another orc. I could not put him in a situation where he could be harmed again.

“How will he know where you went?” Myra was asking. “Why would he not just come here looking for you?”

I frowned. A good point.

“What if…what if instead of running…” My mind whirled. “What if I met him at the stones? What if I confronted him?”

“And tell him what?”

Tell him… Tell him… Inspiration struck.

“And tell him I have destroyed the deed! And the scrolls! He can go back to his tavern—his life—and believe all is well. If no one else in his world knows about the contracts and the deed, then all will be well. I will assure him no one here wants aught to do with them, and send him on his way.”

Myra was frowning as she shook her head. “I do not think that will work.”

“It must work!” In my desperation, I leaned forward to hold her gaze. “I cannot risk him being stuck here in the orcs’ world, being a danger , for a month until he can return! If I meet him when he comes through the veil, I can speak to him, then turn him right around and send him back.”

The other woman watched me with a mixture of pity and concern.

“And what about Jorak?” she asked quietly. “Your Mate might object to your plan.”

I shook my head. “Do you not see? I am doing this for him, to keep him safe! He is happy here! He can see how much his clan needs him, trusts him, and he finally has his place. He is…”

I swallowed and sat back to stare down at my tea. “He is happy here,” I repeated. “Better off without the trouble Alred will bring by following me. Better off without me.”

“Oh, Verna,” Myra whispered sadly in the distance. “I do not think either of us truly understands the Mating bond. ‘Tis no’ like marriage.”

No, ‘twas not. I took a deep breath.

“I do not want Jorak to be hurt. Alred would never understand. ‘Tis…’tis better this way.”

And I had to believe that.