Chapter 4

Korvak

I slept alone.

For certes, I'd always slept alone, but usually I did so in the large bed in the cottage. That first night—after I'd ensured the fire was ready and Effie would have plenty of hot water for washing and a helping of soft porridge—I slept propped against a tree, keeping watch.

Not that I thought there was any real danger. I just didn't trust myself to be in the same house as my new…human.

Despite the way my cock jumped whenever she called me master , I didn't think she was my property. I'd merely collected on that wager because I saw the way my cousin was hurting her and wanted to get her out of his hands.

Right.

She wasn't special .

Right.

After an uncomfortable night on the hard ground, I almost had myself convinced of that.

Then she met me on the doorstep with a bowl of warm porridge and soft smile, and something deep in my chest clenched. How often had I dreamed of a homecoming such as this? A welcoming female who was happy to see me?

"I thought you might like to break your fast, Master."

And just like that, my stomach turned. She didn't care for me; she couldn't care for me. To Effie, I was just the ugly orc who'd won her. Who owned her. She wasn't doing this for me …she was doing this because she thought she was somehow indebted to me.

Just as she'd been offering herself last night.

Palton's Spear, just the memory of those pretty lips parted so beguilingly sent a surge of lust to my cock. Effie was so small I could pick her up and bend her any way I desired her. I could take her, and last night had proven she'd allow it.

She' d no' even fight me .

But mayhap I was delusional for wanting a female who actually enjoyed my touch. If the best she could say is that she will not scream when I fook her, then I am not interested.

Scowling, I took the porridge from her, splashed across the stream, and stomped back into the safety of the forest.

Better to hide until my cockstand diminished.

Good luck with that .

Because despite her words, despite her insistence she would allow me access to her body only because she thought I owned her…I couldn't forget the faint—oh so faint—scent of Effie's arousal.

And that scent had been sweeter than the honey she'd used to flavor the porridge. She'd made herself at home in my home, had she not? Discovering my stores, cooking over my fire?

I didn't hate it. Not at all. And that worried me.

Soon enough, we'd be back at the village. I could drop her with Drakolt and his new Mate, and Effie would be their problem. I could get back to my solitary life.

But I suspected I'd never forget the trusting look in those big blue eyes. Or the way she smelled.

Fook .

I'd planned to avoid her. For certes, I couldn't ignore her for the full fortnight we'd be here together, but at least that first day, I assumed ‘twould be easier to find my equilibrium if I focused on weeding the garden and cleaning out the stables and fixing the roof and the hundred other small tasks which always needed attending when I'd been away for a while.

I was on my hands and knees in the garden when that sweet scent hit me again.

And there she was, kneeling beside me, unasked…her innocent face set in a grimace of determination as she reached for an overgrown pea plant strangling my kale.

I liked that she knew what to do.

I liked that she threw herself into the task without being asked.

She's only doing it because she thinks of herself as some sort of slave .

But I could pretend ‘twas because she wanted to help me turn the cottage back into a comfortable home.

When the vegetables were sufficiently cleared and picked, we washed off in the stream and had a simple meal of oat cakes and some of the cheese I'd stored in wax in the larder. We'd eaten in silence, but as she jumped up from the table to collect the plates, Effie grinned at me.

"What shall we work on this afternoon?"

I was taken aback. "I need to muck out the stable."

Her wee nose wrinkled. "I have never held a shovel, but there is a first time for everything."

Surprised, I led her around the back of the croft.

I didn't ask her to actually wield the shovel, but I gave her small tasks…and watched her tackle each one with silent determination. ‘Twas as if she wanted to be useful.

And although I said naught, I was impressed by the way she spoke to the horses. Considering she had ridden so infrequently, it showed bravery.

"What are their names?" she asked me, petting the mare's nose.

"Mags." I nodded to the one she was pampering. "And Kelty. I dinnae call them such anymore, but ‘tis useful to give them names during the training process."

"Mags," she whispered, pressing her cheek to the mare's neck, showing no fear of the large teeth or heavy hooves. "I shall have to find you some apples, pretty girl. "

I felt my lips twitch, so I bent over my shovel to hide it. "There's an orchard an hour's ride away. I barter with the crofter for fruit and dairy."

From the corner of my eye, I watched her face light with excitement. "Did you hear that, Mags? Your master will have apples for you aplenty soon."

Master .

As if the horse and Effie both viewed me the same.

The reminder soured my mood.

The next several days were the same. Hard work, simple meals, bad sleep. And Effie was at my side through it all. Well, except for the sleeping. I continued to bed down out-of-doors, while she slept in the big bed inside. I didn't trust my Kteer's response to her—or what she'd made clear she was offering, otherwise.

But the rest?

She was at my side. Learning and occasionally laughing.

We cut thatch, we fixed the leaks, we reapplied mud to the cracks between the logs of the croft. We spent an hour with the horses each day so she could learn to ride as I did. We tended the garden and fished in the stream, and she even learned to butcher the bkarn I took down while hunting, although she turned a bit green during the attempt.

I couldn't help but be proud of everything she was learning. From me.

But at the same time, I was frustrated.

Frustrated at my body's response to her, aye, for certes…and frustrated at her insistence on acting as if she were somehow lesser than me.

But mainly frustrated by how fooking surprised she was any time I helped her or was polite or tried to care for her.

The extra plaid I pulled out to rest around her shoulders when she was cold? She blubbered in confusion. The second servings I heaped on her plate? She insisted she didn't need them, before tackling them with the wooden spoon I'd carved her.

‘Twas as if…she didn't expect kindness and didn't know what to do with it.

But it made me curious about her past.

She'd shared so little with me. What had her life been like in the Tarbert keep? Had it been pleasant, and she only reacted this way to me because she couldn't believe an orc could show kindness? Or had no males shown her kindness?

In the first hour ye kenned her, one male tried to kill her, and another struck her for her fear. Obviously, she has reasons to fear males .

Aye, truth.

Still, I wanted to know.

My opportunity came sooner than I expected.

The fifth day at the cottage, I woke to the gentle patter of rain on the branches above me, and I was pleased we'd plugged the leaks in the thatch over the cottage. Still, I'd planned to ride the mare to the neighboring croft to exchange some of the bkarn meat for fruit and dairy, and a wee drizzle wouldn't stop me. I loaded the gelding, ensured that Effie knew where my dagger was in case of danger, and reassured her that naught would bother her.

At the door, I hesitated, surprised by how natural it would feel to reach for Effie, to embrace her, to tell her I'd be home soon.

Instead, I dug my claws into my palms and resisted the urge.

By the time I returned to the croft, ‘twas late in the day and the rain was much heavier. I was soaked, the chill leeching into my bones, but the trip had been successful. I wanted to hurry through the horse's care in order to show my treasures to Effie, but I forced myself to take my time.

When I did enter the house, she sprung from the chair by the small fire with a welcoming smile, and when I saw she'd been mending one of my winter shirts, a pang of something like homesickness swept through me.

What would it be like to return home each day to a female like this? A female delighted to see me, who cared for me as I cared for her?

"Did you get apples for Mags?" she asked, pressing both palms to the table and leaning forward eagerly.

My voice was gruff when I answered. "I did. Also cheese, eggs and…"

I triumphantly unwrapped the last bundle, and she finished the sentence.

"Bread!" Her whisper was almost reverent. "Oh, Korvak, thank you!"

Gods below, I loved it when she used my name instead of Master.

Supper that night was delicious and, I had to admit, almost fun . I told her of the journey and the crofter—a normally cheerful male who had been plagued today by a boil at the end of his nose—and his wife. She asked questions and hid her giggles behind her palm, which I found charming.

Slicing another piece of cheese, I pressed it atop the bread and passed it to her. "Eat, Effie," I urged gently. "We'll get some meat on yer bones yet. "

She flushed and dropped her gaze to the table but took the offering. "Thank you. Korvak. You are…very kind."

My Kteer leapt at the sound of my name on her lips, but at the same time, I wished she hadn't seemed so surprised at the simple nicety.

By this time, the rain was pounding on the thatch, and I had to admit I wasn't looking forward to wrapping myself in my kilt and huddling outside in it. Especially with the cheery fire Effie had built up in the hearth and the drowsy feeling in my veins from my full stomach.

So, when she turned to me—hands clasped in front of herself and her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat—and blurted, "Why not sleep inside tonight?" I was severely tempted.

Mayhap she saw that, because she took a stuttering step toward me.

"I will do naught you find uncomfortable, Korvak. I will not push myself on you, or offer you my body, if you do not want it. But…" She glanced toward the shuttered windows. "It is nasty out there tonight and the bed is big. I can sleep here by the hearth."

I slowly stood. "Ye think I dinnae want yer body?"

That hadn't been the response she was expecting, judging from the way her eyes widened. "I assumed…That first night, you left." She swallowed, ga ze dropping to my chin. "Since then, you have not…"

Time to be honest, I suppose. I took a step closer to her until I could smell the scent of her skin, the underlying scent of her faint arousal. Until I could reach out and touch her.

I reached for her hand, cradling it softly in my larger palm. Her breath caught at the contact, but when I moved her hand to press against my kilt, to cup the thick erection throbbing incessantly against the wool, all that breath whooshed out of her in surprise.

Her fingers squeezed, although I wasn't sure if ‘twas instinct or on purpose.

"Effie, I've spent every night—every hour—fighting myself to keep from touching ye."

Slowly her head tilted back until she met my eyes, her hand still cupping my cock.

"Why?" she asked simply. "I am yours."

Och, nay . My hand lifted, resting against her neck the way it did that first night. I cupped the back of her head, my hand large enough for my thumb to brush against her cheekbone.

The touch was soft, simple. But I could feel her tremble beneath it .

"I dinnae want ye the way ye were offering, Effie," I said gently, shifting my hips so her hand fell away. "I am used to being reviled, used to females only offering…" I trailed off, shaking my head. Such topics were too painful. "Ye are no' my slave, and I wasnae going to fook ye because I own ye."

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound emerged.

Mayhap she didn't understand. The goddess knew, I didn't fully understand my response to this tiny female.

Shaking my head again, I turned away and moved behind the screen to prepare for bed. ‘Twas my preference to sleep in the nude, and despite my assurances to Effie that I wasn't going to take what she'd offered, I decided not to alter my habits for the simple reason that I liked the feel of the blankets on my skin.

Without another word, I climbed into the bed and rolled to face the wall. Beneath my right arse cheek I could feel the lump of the scroll I'd found the other day. Clearly Effie had brought it into the cottage, but I didn't know why or what the meaning was.

But from the moment I pulled it out and saw the wicked illustrations, the delicious acts portrayed on the scroll, my Kteer had insisted on imagining her in those positions .

My wee human hadn't flinched away when I'd put her hand on my cock. But she'd only offered herself to me because she felt obligated, aye?

So why does she have a collection of illustrated sexual positions? Why has she hidden it from ye ?

Mayhap she was interested in such things.

The possibility was remarkably appealing.

I needed to ask her about it. But not now.

‘Twas only thanks to my keen hearing that I was aware of her puttering about the cottage, preparing for bed. I wondered if she'd curl up by the hearth as she'd threatened.

After a while, I felt the mattress dip, and managed to resist the urge to crow.

Effie was sleeping with me.

When she curled up, her back brushed against mine and I sucked in a breath at how cold her skin was.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

Then her bare feet brushed the backs of my thighs, and I groaned aloud. "Torvor's Hammer, ye are frigid, lass."

I felt her scoot farther away, toward the edge of the bed…and didn't touch the covers. Gods below, by now the entire mattress was shaking from the force of her shivers .

Sighing hugely, I rolled over and captured her. I wrapped one arm around her and pulled her against my chest, tucking her head against my shoulder and throwing one leg over both of hers to warm them.

She stiffened at the contact, but I was careful not to move, and slowly she relaxed.

Now, if only I could convince my cock to do the same. The damned thing throbbed incessantly against the small of her back, and I know she could feel it, judging by that sweet scent of her arousal.

Her shivering slowed, and I couldn't help the way my hold on her tightened.

She was so delicate, and mine to protect.

Aye, mine , despite my insistence I didn't own her.

Who was I trying to convince?