6. Hail
Hail
T he phone kept ringing, each shrill note making Allie flinch like someone was poking her with a hot needle. Her whole body had gone tense, and she stared at her purse like it contained something dangerous.
Finally, she wrenched the phone out, glared at it, and shut it off.
Not answering.
I wanted to ask who was calling and why it made her afraid, but the rigid set of her shoulders told me she wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’d learned early that pushing people to share before they wanted only made them retreat further.
Every instinct in my body demanded I act, protect, shield her from whatever threat lurked on the other end of that call.
The orc part of me that had survived centuries of battles and protected our kind recognized danger even when I couldn’t see it.
But surface life required restraint and patience, something I was still learning.
When she looked up at me, she tried to smile, but it didn’t come out quite right.
My need to wrap my fingers around the throat of whoever was making her afraid roared through me. It was all I could do to suppress the feeling.
“Sorry about that. Where were we?” she asked.
“Learning about cop-copper glazes,” I said, though what I really wanted to say was, who’s trying to hurt you? The fear rolling off her was impossible to miss.
We worked for another hour, but the easy feeling from earlier had shifted. Allie kept glancing at her purse, and I caught her checking the barn entrance more than once. Whatever was in that phone call, it had frightened her badly.
At midday, my stomach started rumbling loud enough that Tressa lifted her head to give me a long look.
“Hungry?” Allie asked with the first smile I’d seen since the phone started ringing.
“Starving. I eat lunch at the saloon. Have you tried real orc food yet?”
“Just the sorhox jerky.” Her eyes lit up, and some of the tension eased from her spine. “What’s the difference?”
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
We cleaned up our workspaces and headed toward the saloon, Tressa padding beside us. The afternoon sun warmed my face, and tourists wandered the streets, people enjoying their vacation. A few waved at me, recognizing me from pottery demonstrations and classes.
The saloon was busy but not too much, tourists dining at more than half of the tables. Standing behind the bar on the right, Greel nudged his head toward an empty one near the back, and we sat.
Greel came over and handed Allie a menu, ignoring me, but I already knew what was on it. I ate here every day, after all.
“What do you recommend?” Allie asked, scanning the choices with obvious fascination.
“The roasted velkara is incredible,” I said.
“More than edible,” Greel growled. His chest puffed. “Jessi’s cooking, not that man we hired and fired fast because he had no idea how to crack a chumble egg. Good thing we have an orc chef coming soon.”
“I’ve heard of chumbles.” Allie peered around as if she thought one of the enormous, pink-scaled birds might poke its head through the swinging saloon doors.
Tourists would scatter, but chumbles could be as grumpy as Becken.
“Velkara is a root vegetable from the orc kingdom,” Greel said. “A cross between a potato and a turnip but with more flavor. And if you eat meat, the grilled thaxon steaks are amazing.”
“Thaxon?” Allie looked my way.
“Like beef and venison, but more tender,” I said.
“Herds ro-roam free in the kingdom’s caverns.
” I watched her face as she read. Greel moved away to help someone else.
“Oh, and you have to try the spiced nimmel bread. It’s sweet and sa-sa-savory at the same time.
Sel and-and Holly make it at the bakery. ”
“It all sounds incredible. Will you order for me? I trust your judgment.”
That statement made me want to grin. But this was Allie. There wasn’t much she could say that didn’t make me want to smile.
I could hear trust in her voice, and that heated up parts of me that felt like they’d been slumbering forever.
Greel returned and gave Allie a polite nod.
She shot me a smile. “Hail’s going to order for me.”
“Wise.” Greel looked toward me. “And?”
“Two velkara plates with grilled thaxon, extra nimmel bread, and so-so-some of that… that fermented kythara juice. The mild ver-version for Allie.”
With a nod, Greel strode toward the kitchen.
Allie leaned across the table. “Fermented fruit juice? Are you trying to get me drunk at lunch?”
“It won’t do that. It’s more like…human juice with personality.” I fidgeted with my napkin. “If you don’t like anything, we ca-ca-can order something… something…else.”
“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”
The way she said it, with such confidence in my choices, made everything inside me soften. While she sent a sharp gaze around the room, I studied her face, memorizing the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.
The golden symbol on my wrist caught my eye.
Allie was my fated mate. The term still felt surreal, even hours after the mark had appeared.
I traced the intricate lines with my finger, feeling the slight ridge where the mark had appeared on my skin.
Among orcs, this was sacred, a bond formed by ancient magic that few were blessed enough to experience.
Would Allie understand what it meant if I showed her or would it only frighten her more when she already had enough to fear?
In orc tradition, I should now claim her. Mark her to show the world she belonged to me, then start the bonding process that would link us for life.
I could almost taste her fear in the air.
The longer we remained unbonded, the more intense these sensations would become.
Our elders spoke of mates who could feel each other’s pain across vast distances, even sense when their mate needed them.
The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
But Allie wasn’t an orc, and I only had vague ideas for how human mating worked.
Dungar would know. He researched everything.
Although, my brothers had human mates. They’d marked them, and the symbols appeared on their flesh as well.
I needed to talk to someone who understood both worlds. Jessi, maybe. She’d mated with Greel, so she’d know what it felt like from a human perspective.
“You’re staring,” Allie said, her cheeks turning pink.
“Sorry. I was…thinking.”
“About pottery?”
“About you,” I said honestly, then immediately felt my face heat up. “I mean, about working together. How well we-we-we…work together.”
She smiled, and that warmth in my chest spread outward. “I was thinking the same thing. I haven’t felt this comfortable around anyone in a long time.”
Greel returned with our drinks.
Allie took a cautious sip of the kythara juice, and her eyes widened. “Oh, this is good. It tastes like sunshine and berries.”
“The kythara fruit only grows in certain ca-caverns in the kingdom. Something about the mineral content in the soil.”
“Do you miss living there?”
I considered the question. “Parts of it. My family, mostly. I have more brothers, sisters. My parents. Lots of uncles and aunts and grandparents still. But I lo-love the surface. The sky, the changing light, the way different weather affects my pottery.” I gestured toward the front window where puffy white clouds drifted across blue sky. “We don’t have that…underground.”
There were rituals, celebrations that surface-dwellers didn’t understand, from the Cavern Echoes Festival where our songs would reverberate through miles of stone to the Coming of Age trials where young orcs navigated the darkest tunnels to prove their worth.
But I’d chosen this life, with its sunshine and endless sky.
She followed my gaze, but instead of looking at the clouds, her eyes swept the room with the same nervous alertness I’d noticed while walking from the barn.
Before I could ask about it, Greel appeared with our plates loaded with thick slices of golden velkara, perfectly grilled thaxon steaks, and a basket of warm nimmel bread that smelled amazing. Jessi had jumped right into cooking orc food, and I couldn’t be happier with the result.
“This looks amazing,” Allie said, cutting into her thaxon. She took a bite and made a sound that shot straight to my groin. “Oh my. This is incredible.”
I watched her taste everything, her face getting brighter with each new flavor. She loved the velkara, moaned over the nimmel bread, and declared the thaxon the best meat she’d ever eaten.
“You’re not being polite?” I asked, though I was enjoying my meal just as much, partly because she was with me and she took so much satisfaction from each bite.
“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve had in…” She paused, an odd look crossing her face. “In a very long time.”
Ah. Interesting.
When we finished eating and Greel came for our plates, Allie reached for her purse. “How much do I owe?”
“Nothing.” I pushed her hand away gently. “We eat for free.”
She stared at me. “Free?”
“Remember? I said meals during work hours were included with the job. Family privilege. We own the restaurant, so we don’t pay.”
“You own the restaurant too?”
“My brothers and I own everything in-inside this valley. The saloon, the general store, all of it.” I realized how that might sound. “We’re not trying to control anyone or anything. We-we…built it all ourselves.”
She leaned back in her chair, processing this information. “You’re not just a pottery barn owner. You’re like, the founding family of an entire town.”
“I guess. It sounds im-im-impressive when you put it that way.”
“It is impressive, Hail. What you’ve built here, the community you’ve created…” She shook her head. “I know it’s for tourists, but it’s amazing.”
The admiration in her voice made my chest swell. I wanted to tell her about the plans we had for expanding, the dreams we’d talked about late into the night when we first bought this valley. Not yet. Despite being my mate, we didn’t know each other well yet.
We stood to leave. As we walked toward the door, someone called out from the right side of the room.
I turned to see Gracie and Tark at a corner table, along with Ostor and Rosey.
Gracie’s face was bright with happiness as she leaned into Tark’s side. “Come say hello.” She waved us over.
I met Allie’s gaze, and when she nodded, we walked over to their table.
“Everyone, this is Allie Tuttle,” I said. “She’s working with me at the pottery barn now.”
“Is she the one who helped with yesterday’s class?” Rosey asked with a smile. “I heard all about it. You’re so sweet to jump in and help Hail like that, Allie.”
“It was nothing,” Allie said, but I caught the way she watched the couples with a wistful expression, a longing that made my throat ache.
“Now that you’re one of us, we should have dinner together soon,” Gracie said. “Get to know each other better.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Allie seemed to mean it.
We chatted for a few more minutes, my brothers’ mates immediately making Allie feel welcome with the easy warmth that had drawn my brothers to them in the first place. But I noticed how Allie’s gaze kept drifting between the couples, like she was studying something she’d never seen before.
Family. That’s what she was looking at. The easy affection, the way Tark’s hand rested on Gracie’s shoulder, how Ostor and Rosey finished each other’s sentences. She was seeing what I’d been watching for months, the way love could transform everything.
I hadn’t thought to ask her about her own family. Did she have parents or siblings, people who were worried about her?
We said goodbye and headed back toward the pottery barn, but I noticed the change in Allie’s demeanor the moment we stepped outside. Her shoulders tensed, and her worried brown eyes started sweeping the street again.
“What are you looking f-f-for?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just enjoying this amazing town you’ve built.”
But I didn’t find enjoyment on her face, only fear. The same scared look that had shown up when her phone rang.
I stopped walking and turned to face her. “Allie.”
She only glanced my way before directing her attention to the boardwalk. “What?”
“Who’s try-trying to hurt you?” My words came out in a growl, deep and threatening. Some primal part of me recognized her as my mate and was ready to tear apart anyone who dared threaten her.
She took a step back, her eyes widening. “What? No one’s hurting me. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re scared. I c-can see it.”
“Hail, really, I’m?—”
“If someone’s threatening you, I need to know. My brothers and I will protect you. But we need to know what we’re protecting you from.”
For a moment, I thought she might actually say something. Her mouth opened, and vulnerability crossed her face before she shook her head and straightened her shoulders.
“There’s nothing to protect me from. I’m adjusting to being in a new place. That’s all.”
It was a lie. I knew it, and she knew I knew it. But pushing harder would only make her retreat, so I nodded and started walking again.
“If that changes,” I said quietly, “if you need help with anything , you tell me. Alright?”
“Alright.”
The walk back felt strange, both of us holding secrets. Mine was the golden mark on my wrist and hers was whatever had her scanning every face we passed. I couldn’t let loose the feeling that something was about to break our fragile peace, that the world was about to tilt beneath our feet.
We reached the pottery barn as a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. Dungar stood there in his full sheriff’s uniform, his badge catching the afternoon sunlight and his expression serious.
Allie froze beside me.
“Afternoon, brother,” I said, but my attention was on Allie, who looked like she was about to pivot and run.
“Hail.” Dungar nodded, his gaze only on Allie. “You must be the woman everyone’s talking about.”
Allie’s face had gone pale, her eyes fixed on the sheriff’s badge pinned to Dungar’s chest. Every muscle in her body was coiled.
“This is Allie,” I said carefully, moving closer to her. “She’s working wi-with me now.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dungar said. I could see him taking in her reaction, filing it away for consideration.
“Hi,” Allie said, her voice barely a whisper.
The silence stretched uncomfortably, and I stepped between them, blocking Dungar’s view of her.
Something was very, very wrong.