Chapter 3

3

F or the next few weeks, Eben followed Gareth’s good guidance, and just… observed.

It was his natural state, borne of many years of shyness, self-consciousness, and solitary, scholarly pursuits. And though he only caught a few brief glimpses of the tall, smiling orc from the corridor, he instead focused his attention on the Skai orcs he did encounter, most of whom had ended up in the sickroom with various illnesses or injuries.

And the more Eben observed, the more he found himself… surprised. Many of the Skai bore harsh faces and curt, dismissive demeanours, which — together with all the tales and warnings — had always been enough to keep him at a safe, careful distance. But upon further inspection, even when a wounded Skai snapped sharply at the sickroom staff, or glowered viciously toward any other patients who came too close, he would frequently soften when offered any kind of unexpected generosity, or when loved ones came to visit. A huge, horribly injured orc named Ulfarr had nearly wept when his friend Killik had shown up with a basket of snacks, and Simon , the massive and terrifying Enforcer of Orc Mountain , had fully ignored his painful cracked femur in favour of doting upon his mate and son from his bed.

And when Eben had gathered his courage one afternoon, and collected some sweet treats from the kitchen to distribute to a handful of wounded Skai , they’d been surprised, and grateful, and even kind — at least, until one big, blood-covered warrior had blatantly looked Eben up and down, and invited him into his bed. An invitation that had instantly sent Eben fleeing back for the safety of his workbench, while Efterar had snapped a sharp reprimand across the room. And in return, the orc — much to Eben’s surprise — had blushed, and winced, and apologized .

But the most enlightening situation of all happened perhaps a half-moon later, with the unexpected arrival of a new patient — a blonde, grievously injured human woman named Alma . Her pale, weakened body had been covered with contusions and lacerations, and she’d inhaled smoke and particulates at length, before almost drowning in a river. She had only survived thanks to a daring rescue by a prominent Grisk orc named Baldr , who served as the Left Hand to Orc Mountain’s captain — but during the rescue, Alma and Baldr had formed a deep, irrevocable scent-bond. Which wasn’t surprising, perhaps, given the high emotions and close physical proximity inherent in such an event — except for the fact that Baldr was already mated to the mountain’s Right Hand , a tall, glowering Skai named Drafli .

Eben had always found Drafli highly alarming, for he seemed the epitome of the cold, vicious, dangerous Skai . He prowled instead of walked, he reeked of human blood and death, and he only spoke with sharp, furious gestures, due to having had his throat cut by humans, whom he had then gone and killed with his bare hands. Drafli was widely acclaimed as the best, most terrifying fighter in the mountain, and Eben had often heard hushed, awed whispers of his many exploits in the Skai arena — along with his many conquests in pleasure, none of whom he had ever appeared to notice, let alone favour.

But at some point the year before, Drafli had strongly endorsed that change to the Skai mating customs, and had immediately sworn vows to this Baldr . Drafli had been the first Skai in living history to take an orc mate… and now, not even a full year later, his new mate had turned about and formed a permanent, unbreakable scent-bond with a human woman.

It was a situation that would have been highly trying for any orc, especially a Skai as notorious as Drafli — but to Eben’s genuine astonishment, Drafli hadn’t shown even the slightest hint of anger toward his wayward mate. Each night, once most of the sickroom’s inhabitants were asleep, Drafli and Baldr would come and sit beside the unconscious Alma’s bed, and Drafli would firmly caress Baldr , and kiss his hair. And even across the room, Eben could easily trace their fresh strong scents upon one another, untainted by any others. Meaning that Drafli had continued to bed his mate, and favour him, despite the betrayal of the scent-bond with the woman.

“ You should leave me, Draf ,” Eben heard Baldr whisper into Drafli’s neck, on the third night of this. “ Go find someone else. Someone stronger. Better .”

There were no other orcs awake in the room to hear this — Efterar and his ever-present mate Kesst had gone out together on a call — and Eben held his breath as he listened, his body quiet and unmoving behind his workbench. Waiting , watching, as Drafli wordlessly hissed back at his mate, his clawed hands snapping out movements between them — speaking something in the Skai clan’s sign language, something Baldr answered with a choked sob, and a shake of his head.

But Drafli said it again, and again — and when Baldr kept weeping, Drafli whirled up, grasped him by the neck, and… attacked . Shoving Baldr down hard to the bed, so he could straddle over him, and… kiss him.

Oh . Ohhhh . Eben startled, his breath choking in his throat — but if they’d noticed him, neither of them seemed to care. Instead , Baldr’s eyes had fluttered with palpable longing, his body pressing into the scrape of Drafli’s claws, the deep, dragging bite of his kiss. And when Drafli drew away, and then shoved Baldr over onto his front, Baldr only moaned and arched for him, even when Drafli’s clawed hand yanked down his trousers, exposing Baldr’s muscled, trembling arse to the room.

For a breath, Drafli only gazed down at that bared arse with hooded eyes, his hand curving slow and proprietary over its smooth green skin — and then he shoved at his own trousers, too. Releasing his own long, bobbing, leaking prick, with vivid scars laddered all the way up its grey length.

Eben shivered all over, his vision briefly blurring, and suddenly it was as though he was back in the corridor, watching that tall, laughing Skai . Because Drafli’s prick looked far too much the same, jutting hard and hungry from above sagging trousers, seeking its way between quivering arse-cheeks… and then slamming deep with a sharp slap of skin, while his helpless lover gasped and writhed beneath it.

Fuck . And though a distant part of Eben pointed out that this was certainly against the rules, he couldn’t seem to move, let alone speak, caught in the vision before his eyes. Baldr flinching and writhing and moaning beneath his Skai mate’s onslaught, the look on his face pulling low and familiar in Eben’s belly, whispering of that perfect mingled pleasure and pain…

Drafli even kept speaking in their sign language as he drove inside, one hand swiftly moving before Baldr’s fluttering eyes, while his mouth kissed and scraped at Baldr’s shoulder. As his hips kept snapping him in deeper, faster, flooding all his mate’s senses at once — and Eben nearly staggered beneath the scent of Baldr’s lurching, shattering release, sweeping across the room, while Drafli’s thrusts slowed into sweet, steady circles, his lips gently kissing at his trembling mate’s neck.

It was a dazzling display of skill and force and tenderness, the kind of attention that would have had Eben blatantly spreading and begging in the dyflissa . And before he could compromise himself any further, he belatedly rushed for the sickroom’s back latrine, yanked down his trousers, and took his own straining prick in hand. And as he stroked, the visions swarming his scattering thoughts were again all that tall, laughing Skai in the corridor, touching his own bent-over lover with that same heady blend of skill, tenderness, and command. Sliding his fat, scarred length in and out, again and again, while the orc moaned and shuddered beneath his sharp claws, that firm slap of his hand…

Eben gasped as his release sprayed out, shooting down the latrine in furious arcs of spurting seed and sweet, shattering pleasure. You like that? More , sweet thing. I can show you the way…

But once it was done, Eben’s body felt shaky and weak, his heartbeat pounding far too loud against his ribs, his skull. And he sank heavily back to the nearest wall, gulping down deep breaths, and rubbing at his eyes.

Fuck , what had come over him? He was only meant to be observing, learning, not drowning in lust over a random Skai in the corridor. And not longing for what he’d just witnessed, either, aching all over at the thought of a deadly, capable mate who would offer such loyalty, such unflinching care and kindness, even amidst his own loss and pain…

It took far too long for Eben to collect himself, to walk on shaky legs back out toward the sickroom. Where he instantly caught sight of Baldr , now sprawled in the bed with his eyes closed, his scent speaking of quiet, steady sleep. While Drafli was… he was…

Drafli was standing tall and silent over the sleeping woman’s bed, and holding a sharpened dagger over her throat.