Chapter 12

When Jar’kel returns, his face is drawn and his eyebrows are pressed tight together. Even his blue skin looks pale.

“We need to leave as soon as possible,” he says, fastening the tentflap closed behind him. He sits down next to me at the fire, so close I can smell him again, and it’s that full, familiar smell I’m already growing so accustomed to. “This place isn’t safe, not for either of us.” He chews his bottom lip. “I’ve already put us in danger by accident. Gorren has a weapon. A dangerous weapon.” As abruptly as he arrived, he gets up and relocates to the bed a few feet away from me. “Fuck. I might not be safe for you anymore, either.”

I frown at the stream of nonsense coming out of his mouth. I’ve never seen him flustered before. “What are you going on about?”

Taking a deep breath, Jar’kel explains everything. The jar under the table. The magic he saw and touched with his own hands. The threat it poses to everyone in these mountains.

“So that’s what Vavi meant,” I say. “She sees herself as a guardian of magic. She thinks it’s the reason the wild orcs brought her here, why she mated with Gorren. To protect it.”

She also said that’s why Jar’kel and I are here—to be protectors, too. But I know she’s wrong. We aren’t mates. We can’t be what Gorren wants us to be.

“She’s bought into it, too,” Jar’kel says, his shoulders drawing up tight around his neck. “We need to get out of here, before something bad happens.”

I think about what Vavi told me. Maybe she isn’t so delusional after all, if there really is a threat as big as this hiding in the Blue Crags. “But what if they’re right?” I ask. “What if the trollkin really are the biggest threat? If they discover this magic, it could be a disaster for?—”

“I don’t care!” Jar’kel’s never raised his voice before, not like this, and I shrink back from it. “What becomes of them is of no concern to me. But I will not let myself fall to madness. And I won’t let it happen to you, either!”

He’s worried about me? A little bud of hope blooms in my chest thinking that perhaps, he feels some of the same pull that I feel.

“Did you find out about his next attack?” I ask. “If we’re going to get out of here, we need to know when, so we can prepare.”

“Not yet. I’m not in the inner circle.” Jar’kel worries his broken tusk. “I need to give them something, or else they won’t let me in.”

I know he doesn’t want to hand over the city guard’s secrets, but he might not have a choice if we’re going to get out of here. And if what Gorren’s saying is true, there may be much more riding on our freedom than we thought.

We both look into the fire, neither of us speaking. If it were anyone else telling me this story, I wouldn’t have believed it. But Jar’kel is clearly disturbed by what he’s seen, and I have to believe him.

* * *

That night, during dinner, he stays close to me. Like the night before, he puts his arm around me as we eat, but he doesn’t attempt to touch me again—not like that.

I’m almost disappointed, because I liked how his hand felt on me, how warm his touch had been.

After the meal is over, though, and the other orcs start to retire to bed, my stomach does a flip. I know what Vavi and the others expect from us.

Back in our tent, Jar’kel secures the flap behind us. I put more logs on the fire, then make my way to the pile of furs in the back and sink into it. Jar’kel removes his coat and hangs it up, but leaves on his undershirt and pants. Then he gets into the bed next to me.

“You’ll have to make a lot of noise,” he says, and I don’t think he likes this any more than I do. “Plenty of noise.”

I nod. I heard the sounds my sister made at the celebration the other night. I think I can copy them.

“All right.” I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and then let out a cry. Jar’kel jerks back, surprised.

“How was that?” I ask.

He groans and rubs his forehead. “Too sudden. More… pleased, less terrified.”

“Oh.” I try again, making a quieter noise, more like an animal. It comes out a strangled moan.

Jar’kel covers his ears. “Fuck,” he grumbles. “Not like that, either. Surely you know what it should sound like?”

I block my face with my hands because I can’t look at him. If he saw me right now, he’d know the truth.

Slowly, Jar’kel’s four fingers wrap around mine, and he pulls them away from my face. “Simka.” His expression is stern. “You have gotten under the blankets with someone before, haven’t you?”

“Yes?” I squeak out. It doesn’t look like he believes me, though. My shoulders sag as I finally say, “No.”

He drops my hand like it’s soiled. “Never?”

I shake my head. The opportunity just didn’t arise. I was Vavi’s little sister, the pest who was always getting in the way of more adult games. None of the village boys were interested me. No, they were all absorbed in learning their trades and swooning over prettier girls like Vavi. I was always too busy riding Fio and learning how to hunt.

Jar’kel lets out the deepest, most miserable sigh of them all, and he’s a troll who sighs a lot. “You can’t be serious.”

“Should I try again?” I ask hopefully.

He groans. “I don’t want them to think I’ve been beating you.”

“I’ll do it better this time,” I say, resolute. I fall back on the bed, thinking hard about the orcs in front of the fire, a thick, wet cock sliding in and out of his mate’s body. I remember the stream of white flowing down, how it made me feel warm, and strangely, hungry for Jar’kel.

I think of how I wanted to touch him. To see him. To kiss him.

Then I throw back my head and let out a moan.

* * *