Chapter 13
I trained with Malek until my arms felt like wet cloth. Sweat dripped from the tip of my nose, and my heart burned in my chest from the continuous effort, but the log in front of me was nearly destroyed.
When my body finally adapted to the weight of the axe and the rhythm of the movement, the blows began to fall more confidently and accurately. I no longer needed to think about every action; I just acted. Imagining Merith’s neck in place of the log also helped quite a bit.
Malek remained at my side like a statue. He spent almost the entire time in silence, breaking it only to guide or correct my movements. And, contrary to all my expectations, his presence didn't bother me.
By this point, the pain had turned into background noise, but exhaustion spread like a cold mist, ready to swallow me whole.
"Enough," Malek announced, his voice final. He reached out and, with no effort, took the axe from my trembling fingers.
The relief was immediate, followed by a strange emptiness. I took a stumbling step, but he caught me by the shoulder, steady enough to keep me upright.
“You pick things up fast," he murmured, a subtle curve of a smile playing at his lips.
Pride swelled in my chest. Who would have thought that I, Lady Fionnuala Kerridan, would be being trained by the most feared orc in Lyraen? If my ancestors could see me now, they would surely be cursing me. Again.
"You’re a good teacher," I replied, still breathless. My body shook with fatigue, but I smiled at him anyway.
Malek’s face darkened slightly. He looked away, closed his hand in front of his mouth, and cleared his throat, visibly flustered, not knowing what to do with the compliment.
It was unexpectedly endearing.
Now I was the one blushing. I looked away quickly, trying to banish the thought before it could take root. What was happening to me? At first, I’d thought he was handsome… and now, somehow, he was… cute?
Malek picked up both axes with one hand and gestured to the path back to the village.
"Now, bath. Then, kurark."
Dinner. Great. My mind clung to the idea of food with excitement. The bath, however…
"Where can I bathe?" I asked, feeling my face grow even hotter just by asking it.
Malek frowned before he answered. "Didn’t Kalisha show you?"
I shook my head. A quiet sigh slipped from his lips.
"Shakrar. Come with me."
We followed a narrow path behind the huts, where the vegetation began to thicken.
The sound of rushing water reached me before the sight.
Soon, we reached a small waterfall cascading between dark stones, forming a shallow pool of crystal-clear water.
The surface reflected the light filtered through the tree canopies, creating silver patches that danced with the slightest movement.
It was an open space, with no walls, partitions, or any illusion of privacy. Clear signs of use were everywhere: tracks worn into the mud, stones smoothed by time, and simple cloths hanging from nearby branches. It was a living space shared by everyone in the village.
My cheeks warmed. "Here?" I blurted.
“Kar,” he confirmed, staring at me, clearly expecting me to run and jump into the water.
I watched the pool for a few more seconds.
The water was so clear that the sandy bottom was visible, which meant that if I stripped, anyone nearby would see me.
I’ve never been a shy person; in fact, during full moons in Ceilte, it was tradition to run naked through the forest and bathe in moonlight.
However, in those moments, people were far too focused on the wild magic of the forest to worry about anyone else’s nudity.
"And the soap?" I asked, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
"Soap?" he repeated, tripping over the strange word. "What’s that?"
"To wash yourself," I said, moving my hands over my body to show him.
Malek shook his head, a slight crease forming between his brows.
"We use this," he said, walking to the edge of the lake. He crouched down and plucked a few broad leaves from a plant with a thick stem. "And the water. It’s enough."
I took the leaves from his hand and examined them closely.
With my affinity for An Talamh, I had always been skilled at recognizing plants, flowers, and trees, and I immediately identified it as ingyl, a medicinal plant.
Its scent was fresh and slightly cool, reminding me of the herb we used to make toothpaste in Ceilte.
It wasn't the floral soap I was used to, but it was pleasant. Better yet, it should help soothe the muscle aches that were surely coming.
"Guk," I said, smiling at him. "And… where can I get a towel?"
Malek stared at me as if I had spoken another language—which, technically, was true. I explained what I needed, and he answered, "You dry with the wind."
I bit back a grimace. Everything here was so rudimentary. Not to mention, I had no clean clothes and would have to put the same dirty rags back on afterward. The mere thought made my stomach churn.
"Fine."
I approached the edge, my heart racing. My body was still coated in sweat and dirt, but stripping there, in full view of Malek, and any other orc who might decide to show up, made me uneasy.
"Aren't you going to leave?" I asked, pointing at him, then at the forest path.
He tilted his head to the side, studying me. I remembered that among the orcs, nudity didn't seem to be a taboo. At some point, I knew I would have to expose myself before others.
But in front of Malek…The thought warmed my face even more. There was something about his presence that left me exposed, certain he could see every one of my weaknesses without trying.
Finally, he nodded. "As you wish."
With one last intense look in my direction, he turned and left, leaving me alone.
I pulled off my top and skirt in a rush and left them on a smooth stone. I didn't hesitate before stepping into the cold water. The shock against my warm body was invigorating.
I rubbed the ingyl leaf over my arms, shoulders, and legs, spreading the fresh sap over my skin. The scent wafted through the air as I washed my hair, watching the dirt of the last few days wash away with the current.
I stayed in the water until my fingers wrinkled, letting the weight of the day, the curse, and the training dissipate.
When I finally surfaced, the sun was already slipping behind the trees, tinting everything gold.
The cold reached me all at once, sending shivers racing over my arms. I stepped out of the water onto the shore, ready to face the rags I called clothes once again, but then something gave me pause.
Beside them, folded carefully, lay a change of clean clothes.
A simple top of thick linen and a dark red loincloth—hardly modest, similar to what I’d seen other orc women wearing; two long rectangular strips covered the front and back, leaving the sides open for movement.
My chest tightened as I recognized Malek’s scent clinging to the fabric. He had brought me clothes without my even asking, a simple, unexpectedly thoughtful gesture that disarmed me more than anything else he had done.
Shaking my head, I got dressed quickly. The loincloth was much shorter than any skirt I had ever worn, but the thick fabric was sturdy. My lean body fit perfectly into the orc attire, even though the black linen of the top barely covered my breasts.
A sense of freedom and practicality soon replaced the discomfort of wearing so little clothing. Without the weight of a long dress, I felt lighter and more agile—more orc.
I followed the path back to the village, feeling content for the first time since I had to flee Ceilte. When I reached the bonfire, my eyes immediately searched for Malek. He occupied his usual place by the fire, eating his portion of kurark. However, this time he wasn’t alone.
An orc female with flushed cheeks and hair shaved at the sides sat beside him, smiling in an openly seductive way as she offered him a piece of roasted meat. Malek didn't accept it, nor did he even spare her a glance.
I hadn’t seen her before. Her skin was a lighter shade of green than Malek’s, her lips full, her body defined by curves and toned muscles that the orc clothing could barely contain.
When she leaned closer to him to whisper something in his ear, a strange knot formed inside me, completely unexpected.
It wasn’t anger. Not exactly. It was a possessive discomfort that took root deep in my chest and spread before I could stop it. A strange, almost territorial impulse, as if that proximity were wrong, and she was overstepping a boundary with the male.
Malek shook his head in refusal, but that didn't ease the sensation. My gaze remained fixed on her hand, on the far-too-small space between their bodies, and I realized with growing unease that something deep inside me reacted as if what was mine were being threatened.
The thought terrified me. I had no right to the Ruk’hai whatsoever. By the Goddesses, he didn't even know my true identity, and we were, for all intents and purposes, from different species. He was my enemy.
I swallowed hard, trying to understand when this feeling had taken root in me and why.
At that moment, Malek finally noticed me.
His gaze swept over my body from head to toe, lingering on my legs a second longer than necessary before climbing back up.
Heat surged through my body, betraying me.
I squared my shoulders on instinct, feigning indifference even as my heart raced for no clear reason.
The orc beside him noticed the shift immediately.
Sensing his attention drift away, she turned to face me, curious, sizing me up.
I nodded to Malek out of politeness, but I didn't stick around to watch him flirt with her.
I served myself some kurark at the bonfire and sat on the ground beside Kalisha.
Her brown eyes swept over my new clothes, which were much more in line with the orc style of dress.
"Malek gave you those?" she asked, point-blank.
"Yes," I replied, eating a piece of roasted meat.
"Guk," she said.
Kalisha didn't ask any more questions, which was a relief. I was already bracing for a flood of inquiries, but she simply went back to eating as if nothing were noteworthy. After a while, I couldn’t help it.
My gaze drifted to Malek and the female.
She was talking animatedly, still too close for comfort, one hand resting on his arm with familiarity.
"Who’s she?" I asked Kalisha in Okshakai, gesturing toward their general direction with my head.
Kalisha stared at me, surprised that I used her mother language, before following the direction of my gaze. "Ni’kira. She is a hunter. And she wants rikruk’n with the Ruk’hai."
"Rikruk’n?"
"Kar. To mate. Malek needs a wife. To have ashkem."
Ashkem. Cubs. Of course. He was the leader; he had to ensure the continuity of his lineage.
“And does she have a chance?” I asked, trying to sound indifferent, though my curiosity showed more than I would have liked.
Kalisha shrugged. "She’s strong and beautiful. Malek chooses whomever he wants. There are always many females after him."
A bitter taste rose in my mouth. Malek was the leader, large, strong, and, I admitted, attractive. It would be na?ve to think there wouldn’t be competition for him.
I lowered my voice. “And does he… accept?”
Kalisha hesitated, her nose wrinkling slightly.
“Krun,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s waiting for the right female.”
The leader of the Oksha finally stood. I held my breath, watching to see if he would take Ni’kira with him, if she would be the one chosen to accompany him to the hut.
Our eyes met for a brief second, too intense to be accidental.
I could have sworn a flash of amusement crossed his expression.
He arched an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly, as if he had caught a thought I would never dare admit.
Then he walked away alone, not saying a single word to the female.
Only then did I realize how tense my shoulders had been. Relief followed, but it was an uncomfortable feeling.
Why did I care?