Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Xnaurl

Per my last email, you will see where I have included instructions regarding this process...

I glare at my laptop screen, feeling my blood pressure rise with each word. My fingers hover over the keyboard as I resist the urge to smash it to bits. This CJ, our so-called data tech, has some nerve, talking to me like I'm some simpleton who can't follow basic instructions.

"Urul," I bark, swiveling my chair to face my cousin. "Am I being insulted here, or have I finally lost my grip on the human language?"

Urul unfolds his hulking frame from the leather sofa he was lounging in and saunters over to my desk, his easy-going demeanor a stark contrast to my simmering rage. He leans in, squinting at the email, then lets out a low whistle.

"Oh yeah, cousin. You're being insulted alright. This," he taps the screen, "is what humans call their corporate way of calling you ignorant."

I growl low in my throat. "Wonderful. Just what I needed today."

My fingers twitch, itching to type out a scathing reply. But I know better. Gran would have my hide if I caused an interdepartmental war over an email especially one bearing the Vormugh Enterprises logo. Still, the temptation lingers.

"You know," I mutter, more to myself than Urul, "there was a time when such disrespect would've earned this CJ a one-way ticket over the Rift. Now, I have to play nice and pretend I don't want to cleave their head from their bodies."

Urul chuckles, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the modern world, X. Where the battles are fought with passive-aggressive emails and emoji warfare."

I roll my eyes, but can't help the small smirk tugging at my lips. Sometimes, I wonder if I was born in the wrong era. Give me a good old-fashioned duel any day over this corporate nonsense.

I shake my head, my emerald skin flushing a deeper shade of green with frustration. "Do humans not have home training? Where I come from, even our fiercest warriors show more tact than this... this data tech."

Urul laughs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I find that some have more than others. And those who don't, well, sometimes it's even more fun to teach them a thing or two."

I groan inwardly, knowing exactly what - or rather, who - he's referring to. Poppy, his lovely mate. The lucky bastard. While I'm stuck dealing with passive-aggressive emails, Urul gets to go home to a warm smile and an even warmer embrace.

"Your Poppy's different," I mutter, trying not to let the envy seep into my voice. "She actually wanted to learn our ways. This CJ person? All they'd care about is making sure the tabs are correctly color-coded, as if that is somehow a world-ending event."

Urul's grin widens, and I can practically see the fond memories dancing behind his eyes. "True. Watching Poppy get used to our customs is satisfying, but it's a two-way street, as it were. Learning her customs and being with her family reminds me that we are more alike than we are different."

I turn back to my laptop, hoping Urul doesn't catch the longing in my expression. Sometimes, being the perpetual bachelor in a family of happily mated couples feels like a special kind of torture.

Urul claps a hand on my shoulder. "Give it a rest, X, and clock out for the night. We still have to prep for the sales meeting. Who knows? There might be a bevy of eligible maidens just waiting to be conquered by your surly charms. Forget about this CJ person for now."

I can't help but let out a snort. "Maidens? They'd be the end of me." I shake my head, memories of my last disastrous attempt at romance flooding back. "You remember the betrothal our sires arranged when I was born? Yeah, I dissolved that faster than a sugar cube in hot tea."

Urul raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by my dramatic proclamation. "And how's your would-have-been bride faring these days?"

"Oh, just peachy," I grumble, shutting my laptop with perhaps more force than necessary. "She's found her own slice of happily-ever-after with a dryad and a centaur. Can you believe she still sends me an anniversary gift each year? As if I need a reminder of my spectacularly single status."

I stand up, all six feet nine inches of green, muscular disappointment. "Trust me, I'll be steering clear of any maiden, eligible or otherwise. I'm only there for face time with the C-suite. Gotta keep them happy so they'll let me continue expanding our real estate empire in peace."

Urul's golden eyes gleam with mischief as he leans against my desk. "Come on, X. There are other ways to ensure the company's longevity and profits. Networking, fundraising... you know, actually talking to people?"

I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't pop out of my skull. "Oh, please. If it only took pretty parties to get humans under our control, we'd have won this game a long time ago. What's next? Hors d'oeuvres and small talk as a path to world domination?"

"Hey now," Urul chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "The fae had their revels and the vampires their thralls…and they both found out the hard way that humans are tougher nuts to crack than all that. Besides," he adds, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "these are civilized times, cousin. Kidnapping and enslavement don't exactly scream ‘long-term solutions' anymore."

"How enlightened of us," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. The idea of schmoozing with a bunch of humans makes my skin crawl, but Urul's not entirely wrong. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud. "Fine," I mutter, "but if anyone tries to rope me into karaoke, or worse, one of those group dance numbers, I'm out. There's only so much civilization this orc can take in one night."

Urul grins, gesturing towards the door with an exaggerated flourish. "After you, your grumpiness."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't need a babysitter, Urul. I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself and finding my way to a ridiculous party without an escort."

"Oh, I'm sure you are," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But if you're late or decide to pull a no-show, it's my ass on the line. And let me tell you something, cousin." He steps closer, his expression suddenly serious. "If that happens, you'll be the one explaining to my beautiful mate why you ignored her very good idea of hosting this national sales meeting."

I feel my shoulders slump involuntarily. Damn him. He knows exactly which buttons to push. The thought of disappointing Poppy, with her infectious smile and boundless enthusiasm, makes my stomach churn. I may be a curmudgeon, but I'm not a monster. Well, not that kind of monster, anyway.

"Fine," I growl, stomping towards the door. "Lead the way, cousin. Let's go make nice with the humans and pretend we're all just one big happy corporate family."

Urul doesn't even try to hide his smirk. "I knew you'd see reason," he says, clapping me on the shoulder. I resist the urge to shrug him off, knowing it would only fuel his amusement.

"Reason has nothing to do with it," I grumble, following him out of the office. "It's pure self-preservation. Your mate is terrifying when she's disappointed."

"That she is," Urul agrees, a hint of pride in his voice. "Now, off to the stylist. Can't have you showing up looking like you've been living in a cave."

I glance down at my perfectly acceptable attire. "What's wrong with how I look?"

"Nothing, if you're aiming for ‘disgruntled troll under a bridge,'" Urul quips.

"At least trolls don't have to suffer through corporate schmoozing." I snort, falling into step beside him. "But I'm not wearing a tie."

I trudge down the hallway, Urul's cheerful whistling behind me grating on my last nerve. As we approach the stylist's room, I can't help but feel like I'm marching to my own execution.

"You know," Urul pipes up, "this wouldn't be so bad if you'd just loosen up a bit. Maybe even smile once in a while."

I snort, my tusks jutting out as I scowl. "I'll smile when there's something to smile about. Like when this whole ordeal is over and I'm back in my office, alone."

We reach the stylist's door, and I hesitate, my hand hovering over the knob. Urul claps me on the shoulder, nearly sending me stumbling forward. Sometimes I forget how strong he is.

"Come on, X. It's just a bit of primping. You might even enjoy it."

I turn to him, my expression deadpan. "The day I enjoy being fancied up, is the day I give up being an orc and take up residence with the vampires."

Despite my protests, I know I'm fighting a losing battle. With a deep, resigned sigh that rumbles through my chest, I push open the door and step inside. The overpowering scent of various grooming products assaults my sensitive nose, and I wrinkle it in distaste.

A petite human woman with rainbow-colored hair bounces towards us, her smile so bright it's almost blinding. "Mr. Sonagh! We've been expecting you. Are you ready for your transformation?"

I glance back at Urul, silently pleading for a last-minute reprieve. He just grins and gives me a thumbs up.

Traitor.

I turn back to the woman whose startlingly white teeth make me think of demons. I suppress a groan. This is going to be a long day.