Chapter 3

Therewas an orc. Here. InLouisa'sbedroom.

Hewas sprawled sideways on the chair beside her writing desk, and his tall, scarred body was leaning back against the wall, his booted foot propped on the desk's edge. And he was — half-dressed, wearing only a ratty-looking pair of grey trousers, with a gleaming steel scimitar hanging from his belt. And his hair was bound up in a messy knot on his head, and there were two daggers stabbed through the knot, and…

Andhe'd been… waiting for Louisa. Waiting, and watching her, with cool, assessing black eyes. Eyes that gazed out of a lean, grey, sharp-looking face, framed with tall, pointed ears. And his supple quirking mouth was smirking at her, and what — what —

"What the hell," Louisa croaked, as she fumbled for her abandoned clothes, and somehow found the knife again, its hilt mercifully solid in her fingers. "This is — this is a private bedroom, orc!"

Shebrandished the knife toward him, and found — to her ever-increasing alarm — that he didn't seem even slightly disconcerted. Instead, his smirk only twitched higher, as his glittering eyes flicked down her form, and then back up again.

Andwait, curse it, Louisa was now wearing only a thin, skimpy shift, and her chagrined glance downwards found it also stained, with multiple holes, as well. And it stretched far too tight across her hips and breasts, showing every lump and scar, every single imperfection, for this invading orc's perusal.

Andthe orc was perusing, damn him. His glinting eyes slowly, leisurely sweeping down Louisa's body, and back up again. Lingering on her groin, her hips, her breasts, her neck, before flicking down to — the knife, now visibly shaking in her outstretched hand.

"Ought not to hold your blade out thus, woman," he said, in a husky, accented voice, as his own hand — with its long black claws — rose to his hair, and snapped out one of the daggers from his topknot. "Ought to keep it tight and close. Better meets any attack from the side, ach? And guards your front, also."

Heeven demonstrated as he spoke, first holding out his own dagger just the way Louisa had, and then drawing it in closer to his bare chest. And she could easily see his point, curse him, and she instinctively drew back her own knife, matching his pose, which did feel better, and —

Shewhipped her head back and forth, and thrust the knife down to her side. What the hell. What the hell.

"I did not invite you here, orc," she snapped, as steadily as she could. "This is my bedroom!"

Theorc gave a smooth, rolling shrug of his shoulder, and flipped his dagger in his fingers. "No, is it?" he said coolly. "I have become lost, then, for I thought this was a kitchen. Or mayhap a root cellar."

Louisa'sdisbelief surged, together with a sudden, sharp dislike. This trespassing orc was mocking her? Taunting her, here, in her own damned bedroom?

And— wait. Wait. If he was trespassing here, sneaking into her bedroom with such surprising ease, was it — was it possible that the orcs really had been trespassing on Rikard's land all this time, too? HadRikard been… right?

"ThenI suggest you start paying better attention where you wander off to, orc," Louisa shot back, too late. "Especially when it comes to my vile neighbour's property!"

Butthe orc just kept gazing at her, again with a faint smirk on his face. "We ken where your neighbour's property is, woman," he said blandly. "And we have no wish to tread upon it. What we wish for is here."

Here. It flashed more fear up Louisa's spine, and suddenly all those old, tired tales about orcs were jostling, screeching into her pounding skull. Orcs want women. Orcs need women to bear their sons. They swive into their screaming victims with their huge orc-pricks, fill them with their spawn, and leave them bloody and broken afterwards…

Andwait, wait — what if this orc was here for — for Elise? She was so young and soft and sweet, already so terrified of orcs, this orc could not, he could not —

Louisachoked and lurched to stand before the door, gripping her knife close against her body, just as the smug bastard had said. "You will not even look at any of my staff," she hissed at him. "You will tell me what the hell you want, and then you'll get the fuck out of my house!"

Butthe orc didn't reply, let alone move. And as Louisa stared back at him, her breaths heaving, she felt her mouth crumpling, her throat choking on something much like a sob.

Gods, what the hell was she supposed to do? She had nothing to bribe the orc with, she had no food or coin to offer, and she would be no match for him physically whatsoever. And curse it, she'd been such a stupid, pathetic fool to allow these orcs on her property, to believe they wouldn't bring any harm, and…

"Ach, settle yourself, woman," the orc's drawling voice cut in, together with a dismissive wave of his clawed hand. "I have only come here to speak with you."

Hewanted to — speak? Louisa blinked, and her trembling hand slightly lowered the knife, even as the visions of Rikard swarmed again, too. Because that rank little roach had also trespassed on her property tonight, invaded her own private space, for the exact same infuriating reason.

"Then get the hell on with it, orc," Louisa growled. "I've already dealt with enough unwarranted harassment today from rude, entitled, trespassing males who only want to take from me!"

Therewas an instant's stillness, something held, arrested, in the orc's eyes — but it vanished just as quickly, his expression back to smooth, careless nonchalance. And he lazily settled back against the wall, his hand still fidgeting with his sharp, gleaming dagger.

"I wish to make you an offer, woman," he finally said, very steady. "A fair offer. For both our gain."

Louisa'sbrows snapped up, but she held herself still, waiting. Watching as the orc kept fiddling with the dagger, his eyes dropping to study it, almost as if he were… nervous?

"I shall pay your debts," he said, even slower. "Grant you these lands, for all the rest of your days."

Wait. Louisa's breath caught, her eyes widening, because — no. He couldn't mean that. An orc couldn't pay her debts. Her mortgages. He couldn't possibly afford it. Could he?

Buthis eyes lifted again, meeting hers with calm, collected certainty, and Louisa gulped down air, fought to think. If he would pay that much, surely he wanted something major in exchange. Something monumental. Something utterly appalling, no doubt, something even worse than Rikard, something she'd never be able to countenance…

"And?" she asked, though her voice hitched. "What would you want from me in return?"

Andat that, the orc… smiled. Smiled, swift and surprisingly stunning, showing her a mouthful of sharp, wolflike teeth. As if he truly was a stealthy, waiting, pacing predator, about to leap for the kill…

"First, you shall allow my kin to keep living on these lands," he said, still so smooth, so easy, so deadly. "For as long as we might wish. And second…"

Louisawaited, breath bated, her eyes fixed to his face. To where he was still smiling, or perhaps grimacing, as his dagger turned, and its sharp, shining tip pointed toward her…

"And for ten nights," he continued, a chilly whispered caress, "you shall welcome my fallen kin-brother into your bed, and your heart."