Chapter Fourteen #2
He shuffled closer and put a hand on Farigoth’s arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. It must’ve been hard.”
Farigoth looked at Andre’s hand, pausing as though thinking it through for the first time. “In my grief, I despised my father for his weakness—or for what I perceived as weakness.”
“You were angry he hadn’t killed his opponents.”
“He would be alive if he had. It made me furious!”
Compassion had cost Farigoth’s father his life.
Farigoth aimed to avoid his mistakes. “And you didn’t want to be like your father.
You refused mercy because to you, it’s a sign of weakness.
” Andre understood. Farigoth had chosen a life of brutality because, in a way, it kept him safe.
If he showed no mercy, he couldn’t be punished for it.
“You were stronger than other orcs. And to prove it, you conquered the tribes. You made them fear you. And you promised them what they wanted most—men. No orc would rebel against a chief delivering that. And your father’s killer—that was one rogue orc.
None of his other challengers attempted to kill him after the fight? ”
“No.”
“I don’t think the usurper would’ve been recognized as chief by the tribe.
The fight is meant to be fair, isn’t it?
After the shock had worn off, the orcs would’ve dismissed the stolen victory.
But by then you’d already challenged and beaten him, and they were relieved to see the chief’s son take back his father’s right.
And with regard to now—there won’t be another challenger if our plan for the fertility festival works.
Which it will. You don’t have to kill to be chief. ”
Farigoth nodded slowly. His gaze lifted to Andre. “My father is gone. I cannot bring him back. And I don’t want to lose you too. I’ll do better. I’ll do whatever you ask. All I want is for you to return.”
“I wouldn’t have thought less of you had you shown mercy.”
“I know.”
“The tribe wouldn’t have either. In the future… given that I’ve run away, would they accept your mercy if you say violence upset me?”
“Our mates’ needs come first. They will understand that we must change our ways having humans living with us.”
“Then there is one more thing I need from you.”
“Anything.”
This was the hard part, where Andre made himself vulnerable. “I need affection. Blame it on me being a human, but it’s important to me. I know you grew up without a mother, and your culture is one of war with little room for anything else, but I need—”
“I know.” Farigoth reached out, then hesitated as though expecting Andre to flinch back.
When he didn’t withdraw, he ran his knuckles over his cheek.
“I will not fail you again. Please, forgive my ignorance. Your kind must be showered with affection. I don’t always know how to, but I will learn.
I’m going to give you everything your heart desires. ”
Emotion swept over Andre. This was more than he’d hoped for. “It’s on me. I should’ve asked for what I needed.”
“Hush! That human man you told me about treated you poorly. He was unworthy, and his inability to care for you made you afraid to voice your needs. I will look after you properly. No desire will go unsatisfied. That is the sacred duty of every orc to his mate.”
Warmth enveloped Andre, and he shifted closer. Farigoth, encouraged, responded, closing the final inches between them. Their legs brushed. A bolt of electricity hit Andre. He couldn’t bear to be apart any longer.
His cloak, which he had wrapped himself so tightly in, fell open as he climbed into Farigoth’s lap, the orc’s big arms closing around him, pulling him to his chest. Farigoth radiated heat, and Andre melted into it, resting his head on his shoulder. The embrace felt like home.
“You mean that,” Andre said. “You’d actually give me anything I wanted. You wouldn’t blink.”
“An orc must pamper his mate. I will ensure your happiness and comfort.”
Farigoth was willing to give so much. He’d vowed to be merciful and was eager to accommodate him.
And what had Andre done? He’d become upset when Farigoth asked him to show the men of Vale that being with an orc was no hardship—that it was heaven.
It wouldn’t be difficult to let Farigoth ravish him in front of them.
He could close his eyes and pretend he was in Turia, the tribe watching.
“I’m sorry too,” Andre said.
“For what?”
“I ran away twice when all you want is to care for me. I should’ve trusted you to look out for me. You’ve made a lot of concessions, and I feel bad that I reacted poorly to the one demand you made of me. I— “
“What demand?”
“The fertility festival. The Valians need to see that men are happy with orcs. I’ll let you take me before the human crowd. It’s only fair that I meet you halfway. We both need to support each other, not just you. Your tribe is my tribe, and I want every orc to find love and happiness.”
Farigoth gave him a puzzled look. “Take you in front of the humans? I do not wish for you to feel uncomfortable! Relive bad memories! No. A delegation of orcs and their mates will show the humans how happy men are with us.”
Andre pulled back. “But when you and Resh agreed on the joint festival, you said we were going to couple for the men to see.”
“The tribe. Not you and me. I would never ask this of you after what you told me.”
Andre frowned, thinking back to their meeting. He had no memory of Farigoth saying they were going to mate.
Andre buried his face in his hands. “Oh God. Now I’m really sorry. I thought you’d… But of course you wouldn’t. I’m sorry. This is so shameful. I should’ve known better. I apologize for thinking poorly of you.”
“Andre.” Farigoth gently took his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. “Don’t hide. You did nothing wrong. I was not clear when I told the imp.”
“I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”
“My poor mate.” Farigoth petted his head. “I have put you through so much; no wonder you misunderstand. It’s all right. We will not couple at the festival. I’m sorry for distressing you once more.”
Andre’s heart opened. He cupped Farigoth’s face. “You’re a good mate.”
The rumbling sound in Farigoth’s chest was suspiciously close to a purr.
Andre shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.
If only he’d given Farigoth the benefit of the doubt.
He should’ve known Farigoth wouldn’t ask him to submit with half of Vale present—including half of Stagfield.
If those men saw him with Farigoth, his smaller body writhing under the orc’s bulk, climaxing time and again on a monster of a cock…
Farigoth’s nostrils flared. “You’re aroused.”
Heat washed over Andre. He was hard, the silk of his loincloth sliding across the sensitive tip of his cock, precum seeping into the thin fabric.
Farigoth’s proximity had caused that. It couldn’t have been the thought of Farigoth mounting him for the world to see. Andre’s cock twitched.
“I…”
The men would know that an orc owned and bred him, his greedy hole opening for the giant cock that’d all but impale him. Another twitch.
“I’m open to you taking me during the festival.”
“No. I will not make you uncomfortable.”
If Andre hadn’t already known, the disappointment rolling through him would’ve told him.
It was hard to admit, but in his heart of hearts, Andre liked having an audience.
In the world of the orcs, his desire to be seen was normal.
It was revered. The Valians had it wrong with their false modesty, not the orcs.
He was shy about his lust, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to display it.
With heat rising in his cheeks, he said, “It would help us find more volunteers to join the tribe if the men saw that even the chief is no threat but a man’s source of pleasure.
And… I might like it. You marking your territory while they watch. ”
Farigoth didn’t ask if he was sure. Instead, he breathed in Andre’s scent. He paused, then his face brightened. “You would love it. Oh, my sweet, perfect mate. But you don’t have to. Please, do not feel obligated.”
“I want it,” Andre said, warmth rolling through him. “I want them to see you claiming me.”
Farigoth kissed him, Andre gasping in surprise when those hot lips pressed against his.
Farigoth’s tongue took advantage, invading his mouth.
Andre squirmed in his lap, every part of him flushed with desire.
All of Vale would know to whom he belonged.
He sighed into the kiss, moaning when Farigoth’s hands slipped under his cloak, encircling his waist.
The tribe reacted with palpable relief to Andre’s return and so did his companions. Order was restored.
Over the following days, anxious desire thrummed through Andre, the festivities dominating his every thought. The camp bustled with activity; the orcs were thrilled about the festival. He was constantly hard, Farigoth having to bend him over every few hours.
The day of the spring festival was warm and sunny.
After a stretch of good weather, nature was in full bloom.
The meadow near Castlehill, where the spring festival took place every year, was teeming with men from across southern Vale—Lord Aranin must’ve brought all his political influence to bear.
Farigoth’s return to Vale had certainly spurred the nobility into action.
Andre and the other mates lounged on a flower-decorated platform overlooking the hustle and bustle.
Gael had gone to great pains to beautify him, braiding daisies into his plait as the final touch.
He, like many of the more androgynous mates, had tucked one behind his ear.
Eric, tall and muscular, had refused, insisting he’d look ridiculous.