Page 21 of X’nath (Dark Orcs of Helfallow)

21

Shadows in the Night

GRACIE

T he cool water of the lake had washed the blood from my skin, but the weight of the battle still lingered on my shoulders. I scrubbed at my arms absently, my mind not entirely on the task as I worked to clear away the remnants of the day. The fight, the fear, the adrenaline—it was all still too fresh, a bitter taste I couldn’t shake off. When I finally felt clean enough, I gathered my things, making sure no one was around, and made my way back to the communal home.

As I approached, I noticed the faint glow of the firelight casting long shadows over the sturdy wooden walls. The others had all gone, each one settling in with their chosen mates. I wondered how that felt—having someone to return to, someone to share the quiet with. I didn’t have that. Not anymore.

When I stepped through the door, Erin was sitting at the table, her fingers idly tracing the wood. She looked up as I entered, her expression softening. She must have noticed the exhaustion in my face because she immediately stood up and didn’t hesitate to ask, “Are you alright, Gracie? I heard about what happened, the entire tribe is buzzing about the news. Is the child is back home?”

I sighed, my gaze flickering briefly to the fire that crackled in the center of the room. "I’m fine," I said, brushing it off. "The child’s fine too. He’s with his mother now."

I avoided her eyes as I began to untie my boots, not wanting to dive into it. I could feel the lingering tension in my body, but I didn’t have the energy to talk about it. Not now. Especially not after that unexpected kiss from X’nath, catching me completely off guard.

Erin seemed to sense my mood, so she didn’t press further. "Alright," she said softly, but I could hear the concern in her voice.

It was strange to think how far we’d come from the days in the swamps as strangers who were shackled together on a slave trade ship. We were different now. Stronger. But still fragile in ways we couldn’t always show.

I moved to the side of the room where our beds were lined up. Each one was a sturdy frame made of thick wood, with soft furs draped over them. The furs weren’t what I was used to back in the human settlements, but they were warm and comforting, a small touch of luxury I hadn’t expected to find here. I stripped out of my bloodstained clothes and slid beneath the furs, grateful for the quiet of the room.

I made a mental note to stone wash the clothes tomorrow and hang them on our makeshift retractable clothesline—an idea born from the creativity of a few of the orcs who volunteered after we explained the contraption to them.

Erin didn’t linger either, leaving me to my solitude. I pulled the furs tightly around me, closing my eyes, trying to push away the memories of the battle that still clawed at the edges of my mind.

But sleep, when it came, was restless. The shadows in the room twisted into the shape of the monstrous beast, and I felt the familiar panic flood my chest. I was running again, desperate to protect, but this time, it wasn’t just the child. It was Yargol —my loyal little companion, the one who had stood beside me through the horror of battle. The creature had swiped at him, sending him tumbling. The sound of his screech as he fell echoed in my ears, and I felt a cold, paralyzing dread wash over me. My body froze, helpless.

"No!" I screamed, my voice strangled, but my feet wouldn’t move. My eyes focused on the limp body of my red furry companion, trying to will him to take a breath while I began to lose my own.

How could I let him down? How could I let this happen? What would X’nath say to me?

The monster bore down on me again, its claws slashing through the air, its sharp nails slicing through the flesh of my back sending searing pain down my spine as I fell on hands and knees trying to crawl toward Yargol. The warmth of my spilled blood in stark contrast to the chill I felt.

But then, just as quickly, everything shifted.

The creature was gone, replaced by the unmistakable figure of my former husband, the man who had made my life a living hell. His face twisted into a sneer as he stepped closer, his heavy breath foul as it always had been.

“You think you’re worth anything, Gracie?” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing. Always running, always hiding, trying to be something you’re not. You need to learn your place!”

I tried to step back, to escape, but my butt was glued to the floor, my knees up and my arms outstretched before me in protection of my face. His fists came first, they always did. The ache in my ribs made me want to scream but I bit my lip until it bled, holding the pain in, hoping that my silent retreat would make it end sooner.

But it never did.

His first kick landed me on my side as I gritted my teeth. I clawed the wooden floor of our home, trying to get away, but my limbs felt heavy, my mind lethargic. The next kick landed against my abdomen. Again and again, hot tears streamed down my face as I cried out for mercy, for the heavens above to open up and take me away from this hell.

I didn’t understand what I did to deserve this life. I only wanted to do what was expected of me, to be a good wife.

He fooled me. He fooled us all. His sweet words, his compliments, the way he used to make my heart race with his touches. None of us foresaw this outcome as blood dribbled from the corner of my lips. I covered my head and face, not wanting him to crack my skull. His words cut through me like a blade, deep into the heart of my fear. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I wanted to fight back, but my body wouldn’t obey.

I was small again, weak, nothing more than a shadow in his eyes. A worthless woman who could not bear him any children.

The suffocating feeling of helplessness swept over me, and I gasped for air. Each breath I took through broken ribs felt like a new type of hell in itself as I desperately tried to wake from this nightmare.

The beatings stopped, leaving me with the scent of blood all around me. So much so, it became intoxicating. Through the tears, I reached down between my legs and came back with nothing but crimson stains from my hands to my forearms.

Then, suddenly, I heard a roar— X’nath’s roar. It was the battle cry of a warrior bent on retribution and vengeance. My body stiffened, the sound grounding me. I wasn’t trapped anymore. I wasn’t weak.

I cried out to him but he couldn’t hear me. He couldn’t hear me through his roars and my voice began to fade with my strength. “The baby. I lost the baby…”

I snapped awake, sitting up in bed with a sharp breath, my face wet with hot tears. Pulling my knees up, my body trembled, my heart pounding in my chest. Clutching the furs tightly around me, I tried to pull myself back from the remnants of the nightmare. My former husband’s rage filled eyes still haunt me as he sold me to slave traders to pay off the debt he said I owed to him for being a worthless barren woman.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting faint light across the room, and Erin was asleep in her bed, undisturbed. The silence of the night seemed to press down on me as I tried to steady my breath.

But the shadows from my dream still lingered, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they were creeping closer again, threatening to consume me alive.

Erin began to stir and I schooled my features, relaxing my limbs to hide my distress. She turned to look at me over her shoulder. “You okay, Gracie? I thought I heard you moan in your sleep.”

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day,” I sighed, brushing off her concern. How could I even begin to talk about everything that was running through my mind when I was still trying to push it all away? After a long pause, I finally asked, my voice still thick with sleep, “Erin… why aren’t you with Karg?”

She stretched her arms before sitting up in her bed. There was a hint of a frown on her face, one that made my curiosity spike. She sighed heavily, her voice laced with frustration and exhaustion.

“We had a fight,” she said, clearly annoyed. “He’s so dense sometimes, doesn’t get it. I’ve been trying to get through to him, but he just doesn’t understand. He’s… too thick-headed when it comes to anything beyond the obvious.”

I raised an eyebrow, more than willing to talk about anything but myself. “What do you mean?”

Erin ran a hand through her hair, her frustration evident. “I’ve been making hints, you know? I like him. I do. But I’m tired of always having to spell it out for him. He acts like he’s never had a woman look his way before—like I’m some kind of puzzle that needs to be solved. And every time I drop a hint, it goes right over his head.”

I chuckled, though it was soft. “He’s a bit... young , don’t you think? Maybe he just doesn’t know how to handle it yet.”

Her gaze flickered to me, and she let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe, but I’m not going to sit around and wait for him to figure it out. If he’s serious about me, he’ll have to work for it. I don’t do well with being ignored.”

I nodded, understanding her frustration. It wasn’t easy to navigate the delicate balance of wanting someone but feeling like they weren’t quite seeing what was in front of them.

“I get it,” I said softly. “You deserve someone who can see you for what you are, to understand your love language.”

Erin smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to keep wasting my time. I’ve got enough to deal with without wondering if I’m really what he thinks he wants.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackle of our dying fire. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Relationships are never easy, especially when the other person doesn’t seem to notice the signals you were putting out. Communication between male and female was hard enough as it was.

“You know,” I said, shifting under the furs, getting comfortable again, “I don’t think it’s that he’s not interested. I think Karg’s just… still figuring things out. But I hope he gets his head straight soon. You deserve someone who knows exactly what they want.”

Erin met my gaze, and for the first time, the frustration seemed to fade from her face. “Thanks, Gracie. I appreciate it.”

“Maybe you need to put aside some of your own pride and, I don’t know, spell it out for him and make the first move,” I suggested.

There was an uncomfortable silence that settled between us, and I could feel the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. I didn’t know what Erin was going to do about Karg, but it was clear she was at her Witt’s ends.

I let out a quiet sigh. "Get some rest," I said gently. "We'll deal with this in the morning."

Erin nodded, sinking back into her bed. But the room felt quieter somehow, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the unresolved tension in her words would linger for a long while. The sounds of the night brought the hum of insects and the gentle breeze as I tried to settle back into sleep, but the shadows of the nightmare still loomed over me, mixing with the weight of our unspoken thoughts.