Chapter 3

Lux

Yeah, okay, maybe I was walking with a little bounce to my step the morning after Zoe and I—you know. Maybe I was whistling, maybe I was smiling more than usual.

But Giza took one look at me and burst into laughter.

"Congratulations, T'mak !" he chortled, slapping me on my shoulder. "You look like a quallah who has found a cache of honey!"

Oh good, now I could add blushing to my list of tells.

Yes, orcs blush. We turn a darker green, in case you care.

I hadn't intended to visit Giza today, but I had to walk down Main Street, and his new shop was there. He was renting the apartment across the street, above the bakery where Cairo's mate Meli used to live, because the one above the tattoo parlor wasn't available yet. But today, when I stuck my head into his shop, he was there.

And he apparently could tell, just by looking at me, what had happened.

The older male was in the middle of hanging some of Karnak's art on the wall but had apparently taken a break in order to tease me. "So who is she, T'mak ? That cute waitress who moved in with you?"

T'mak meant younger brother in the language of our people. The language most of us had tried to forget. But it was Giza's job to remember. That's one of the reasons he'd turned his shop into an orc haven, decorated with Karnak's art and willing to sell pieces shipped from other non-humans around the country.

Giza wasn't my brother.

But I'd never minded when he called me T'mak . It made me feel…I swallowed, considering. It made me feel like there was someone watching out for me all these years. Someone who hadn't thrown me away. Someone who cared what happened to me, you know?

So, shrugging, I shoved my hands in my pockets and grinned sheepishly. "Zoe, yeah," I mumbled. "She's…great."

The older male snorted. "I can tell. Come help me."

As he lifted the large wooden slab, carved with intricate depictions of things I barely remembered, I hurried across the room to stabilize the other side.

"You've got a nail up?" I grunted, maneuvering it to the wall.

"Have you seen this thing? I have four nails—yeah, there. Hold it. Hold it…"

"Sure," I panted, straining to support it as Giza craned his head to check the placement. "No problem. I'll just keep holding it here. Take your— oof , take your time."

Giza snorted at my melodrama. "Okay, there's good."

Together, we eased it into place, then stepped back with sighs of relief.

"What the hell is that?"

Giza shot me a grin. "It's the essence of a birthing lodge."

I lurched back. " What ?"

"The imagery." He jerked a thumb at the artwork, still smiling beneath his tattoos. "You see the wind and water? The dots? That's breath and heart, and the colors represent the mother's blood and life force."

I shook my head, suddenly completely uninterested in peering closer. "Karnak's gotten weird as shit."

Giza chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Happens to us all when we find our Mates. Karnak's thinking of progeny."

"Progeny? Like…little kits?" I liked Sakkara's Emmy well enough, but it was strange to imagine Karnak as a father.

"Perhaps, T'mak ." Giza glanced over at the artwork, his expression sort of sad. No, not sad…rueful.

I figured he was thinking of his lost Mate, which sucked. He hadn't spoken of her often over the years, but when he did, it was always with a sort of wistful regret. I didn't blame him. Hearing the other guys talk about Mating, or maybe even finding their Mates…well, it sounded pretty damn good to me.

Karnak had found his Mate Jess when he'd moved here to Eastshore Isle, although it had taken a while to work up the balls to talk to her. Cairo, on the other hand, hadn't realized Meli was his Mate until he actually had the chance to kiss her.

And I was pretty sure it was hearing all their stories about how great it was, how amazing the sex was, et cetera, et cetera , which had made me as godsdamned horny as I'd been for the last month.

Having Zoe in my space hadn't helped, though.

"So, you want to tell me about her, T'mak ?" Giza rumbled, using a wicked-looking ceremonial dagger to open a shipping box. "Any questions?"

Like I was going to ask him how sex worked? "Yeah." I grinned as I leaned my hip against his front counter. "Where in Eastshore can I find XXXXL condoms?"

He didn't rise to the bait. "You shouldn't need them. You're not fertile, not until you're Mated. Even then, human-orc pairings rarely result in offspring."

Huh. Well that was good to know.

Guess the next time you two fuck, you can come in her—

Whoa. I was already thinking about the next time?

No shit.

Honestly, I'd been thinking about the next time since I tucked Zoe in and kissed her goodnight before heading back to my room to collapse, smiling, into my own bed. I was thinking about it right now.

I was thinking about the way her pussy tasted. The way she screamed my name when she came. The way she smiled at me as she stroked me.

So, uh, yeah . My erection was becoming a bit uncomfortable.

Giza was still talking, offering obscure bits of wisdom from the grandfathers. That world meant nothing to me now, but over the years, I'd learned to let him ramble. It was important to Geez to feel like he was passing on the old knowledge, and I was happy to smile and nod.

My back pocket vibrated.

Giza stopped mid-sentence. "Your pants just binged."

"They did indeed," I agreed, reaching for my phone. I swiped to the texts. "It's Mrs. Albee from the shelter." I frowned slightly as I read. "She says they need more of those sturdy dog houses I made. She's worried about…the old ones collapsing?"

Giza hummed. "In the hurricane, likely." When I glanced at him in confusion, he clarified. "The Category Two storm heading this way? Hurricane Ursula. If it hits us, it won't be until late next week, and the Town Council is calling a special meeting on Thursday to discuss options."

"Huh." I glanced down at the phone in my hands. "I'm glad you pay attention to this shit."

"I'm sure you are." He was carefully scooping packing peanuts from the box into a large plastic bag. Presumably so he could re-use them? "Eastshore has come through many hurricanes, and the residents are used to them. I'll do whatever the council suggests, but reports are saying the storm will likely weaken by the time it gets to us."

My fingers were already swiping across the phone's screen. "I'll stop by the kennels and talk with Mrs. Albee. I don't want her to worry, and it shouldn't be a problem to build some sturdier homes for all the dogs. There's plenty of space since that land was donated."

Giza hummed. "And how about stopping by early next week to help hang hurricane shutters? I have to do this place, and I offered to help Cairo do Meli's bakery. And how about asking Mrs. Albee if she needs help boarding up the library? It's close enough to the beach that it likely gets battered during storms. I'm sure she could use some help."

"Sure," I murmured, still texting. "No problem." I glanced up. "I'd hate for those books to be ruined."

"Or the cupcakes. Or all my stuff," Giza said drily.

I made a show of glancing around at all the non-human merchandise and Giza's expensive tattooing equipment, then hummed noncommittally.

Unflappable as always, he just snorted and turned away. "If you're going to need the lumber for the dog houses, I suggest stopping by the hardware store today. Claire told me there's usually a run on it when it becomes clear people need to board up their windows."

I straighten away from the counter. "What would I do without you, Geez?"

"Likely starve and then drown when this place floods," he muttered back to me.

I laughed, because he was expecting it, and glanced at the time on my phone. Zoe's shift would be ending in about an hour. I was going to stop by the market to pick up ingredients for the pasta dinner I was planning, but afterwards, I could swing by the hardware store. It was right down the block from The Waterfront, where she worked.

Maybe I could walk her home.

Grinning, I slid my phone into my pocket again. "You want any linguine with clam sauce?" I asked my friend.

His head whipped around, and I saw the pleasure in his eyes moments before he sighed and shook his head. "And interrupt a chance for you to show your roommate one of your rare talents? I wouldn't dare."

Another laugh, because such an insult deserves it. I know Giza meant it as a joke, because he's complimented me many times on what I've learned since joining this world. But I have to admit, my cooking skills are one of my best tricks.

So I smacked his shoulder on the way past. "I'll bring you some tomorrow."

"I'll look forward to it." A pause, and then, "Thank you."

Giza sometimes forgot to eat when he was busy transcribing the old legends. In the house we'd shared in Newport News up until we moved to Eastshore, I often ended up taking care of him .

Which was a cool feeling, frankly.

Especially after being told I was worthless and broken for so long.

At the door, I glanced over my shoulder. Giza was moving an inventory sheet farther away from his face, then closer again, likely forgetting his reading glasses were perched atop his head. I smiled.

"Bye, Geez," I call.

Without looking up, he murmured, "Blessings, T'mak ."

I slipped from his storefront silently, still grinning.

Blessings .

It's what Giza always said instead of goodbye , like a normal person. We all spoke English—at least, those of us first ones who came to this world together—but Geez clung to the old ways at times.

It was why the chosen name Giza fit him so well. Sounds a bit like geezer , doesn't it?

But blessings . I figured, no matter that I didn't believe in the old ways or the old gods, I could always use blessings. Puckering my lips in a cheerful whistle, I strolled down Main Street, waving to people I knew. The market was only two blocks over.

And then after…

Zoe .

I could argue I'd been blessed already.

Last night had been a blessing, alright.

I shook my head at myself, then turned it into a smile when Mr. Wilson waved to me. Blessing? I was turning as poetic as Giza. Because yeah, the sex had been nice—let's be honest, it'd been everything I'd hoped it would be—but that wasn't the real blessing.

No, Zoe had been the real blessing.

She'd taught me. She'd held me. She'd offered her body and allowed me to study her the same way she studied her books. When she'd been spread before me like a feast, she hadn't minded me taking my time, examining everything I could.

And I had to admit; I was fascinated by her. By her smooth, warm-colored skin. By her habit of chewing on a pencil when she was thinking—not the eraser, but the middle of the wood. I was fascinated by her rare laugh, and the lotions she wore, and by her scent.

When I'd advertised for a roommate here on Eastshore, deciding it was likely time I climb out from under Giza's wing, I hadn't expected Zoe. Hadn't expected to be so attracted to my roommate.

Yeah, I was blessed alright, and I hoped I could return that blessing.