Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The room is completely silent in the wake of his declaration. My breath comes in short pants, and I sway slightly. The orc—Uram—frowns at me and reaches out again to put his hand on my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I give him a curt nod, though I’m lying. None of this is good, that much I know.
Then Mr. Payne puffs up his chest. “I’m afraid I will have to ask you to leave.”
Uram turns to him. “Why? It wasn’t me who started the fight.”
“W-well,” Mr. Payne stutters, “you broke the man’s arm. You’re a danger to us all. So you will leave.”
There is no denying that he’s dangerous.
The strength he exhibited would be enough in itself, but he’s carrying a wicked-looking ax in his weapons belt and a hunting knife the length of my forearm.
This little village doesn’t often see warriors like him, and we’re all staring.
He seems to notice it and throws his cloak over the weapons to conceal them.
“I am not leaving my mate alone with you,” he growls.
Mr. Payne’s expression hardens. “Then you will both leave.”
“What?” I yelp. “No!”
“You spilled beer on one of our customers, Rose. That kind of behavior is unacceptable in my inn,” Mr. Payne declares. “You are no longer welcome here.”
I stare at him, a lump forming in my throat. I knew I was disposable to him, but to have him throw me out so easily… Then I glance around at the patrons, all staring at me with fear and hostility in their eyes, and I know he’s right. I turned against one of their own. I’m no longer welcome.
The orc puts his hand on the small of my back and gently guides me to the front door. Tears sting my eyes, but I keep my head high. Damn if I’ll show these people that they got to me.
The cold air hits me like a slap in the face the moment we step outside.
It’s still raining, with some of the raindrops turning to slushy snowflakes.
After the damp warmth of the taproom, the first breath of cool air is a relief, but I quickly realize how bleak my situation is.
I’ve been thrown on the street without my belongings, let alone a reference letter I could take to another inn in the hopes of getting a job.
Not that this little hamlet has more than one inn.
And I won’t be able to stay here anyway, not after tonight.
“I am sorry that you lost your job,” he rumbles behind me.
I turn on my heels to look at him. “Why did you save me?”
He furrows his eyebrows. “Because the man attacked you.”
The simple answer surprises me. The room was filled with men, yet not one of them stood up to protect me. I don’t want to be grateful to him—but he only tried to help.
“This is a disaster,” I whisper, burying my fingers in my hair.
We’re standing under the eaves of the inn, and already, the hem of my dress is soaked from the rain. Anywhere I try to go tonight, I’ll freeze to death, and if I try to sneak back, Mr. Payne might just throw me at Mr. Genner as a consolation prize for his broken arm.
“Do not worry.” Uram places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I will take care of you now.”
I scowl at him. “Because I’m your mate?”
“Aye,” he says simply. “I have finally found you.”
Despite myself, my heart skips a beat at the focused way he stares at me.
It’s like he’s trying to memorize every feature of my face.
After a moment, he leans in, presses his nose to the side of my head, and inhales deeply.
A rumbling sound echoes from his chest, a growl so loud that all the hairs on my body stand on end.
He might have saved me, but he’s dangerous, and I would be wise to remember that.
“Rose?” a soft voice calls from the darkness.
I turn, listening. “Jasmine?”
A slight figure appears from around the corner of the inn. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over Papa to throw you out—” She catches sight of Uram behind me and falls silent, her mouth open.
I understand, but I don’t have the patience tonight to deal with her. “What is it?”
She blinks and looks back at me. “Come around to the back. I collected your things. I begged Papa to let you stay, but he wouldn’t.”
My heart thaws a little, so I take her hand and give her fingers a squeeze. She’s a kind girl, if spoiled, and it’s not her fault her father is an ass. She has bundled up my belongings in a blanket off my bed and tied it all with a string.
She casts a fearful look over her shoulder, then thrusts a cloth bag in my hands. “Here. I grabbed some apples and cheese for you. We’re out of bread, but there are some walnuts, too. And your earnings from tonight. I-it’s not fair, what they did. To you.”
I lean in and give her a tight hug. “Thank you.”
This must be the first time she has defied her father, and I hope she continues.
She pulls back and pushes open the back door. “You better go. The men inside are angry and drunk. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
With those words, she disappears inside. Clearly, she thinks that the men might come after us—after Uram in particular. And she’s not wrong.
“Come on,” I say, holding the cloth bag under my arm. “We should go.”
I don’t know why I’m including Uram in my plans—not that I have a plan—but it feels strange to leave him here in the rain.
He gives me a grin, barely visible under his hood, and plucks my luggage from my hands, holding it up easily. “Where to?”
“We need to find somewhere to stay for the night,” I say. “I think I know a place.”