Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Vrogul
I felt the air shift the moment she awoke.
I’d been lying as still as possible since the sun first peeked over the horizon, her scent driving me mad. Gods below, when had I last had a female in my bed? Was that why my Kteer was so restless, why I had to fight so hard against the urge to curl myself around Rowena?
But her response last night when I’d reached for her, told me everything I needed to know. She still thought of me as a monster. I couldn’t taste her again, couldn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated, until she accepted me.
Begged me.
When she was awake, she might spit defiance, but during the night, my little wildcat—who wasn’t nearly as drunk as she’d been pretending—had rolled toward me once more. Not to threaten me with her blade—which I could feel tucked into her belt—but for comfort.
Now she huddled on her side, her head pillowed on the arm which I’d thrown wide as I slept, her soft breath teasing my skin. ‘Twas perfection to have her turn so trustingly toward me…and almost made up for the agony of her resting against my injured shoulder.
So, aye, I felt the moment she awoke.
Her body stiffened and her easy breathing turned to a gasp.
I held myself still, wondering what she would do.
Slowly, as slow as a hunter, Rowena edged off my arm and away from me. I felt the mattress rock as she slid from it, her feet going to the floor. There were the sounds of her moving about quietly, then a grunt. I imagined her putting on her boots…
Would she try to escape the village?
Would I go after her?
Of course ye fooking will.
And ‘twas not because of the thought of a female braving the dangers of my world, because I knew Rowena could face them. ‘Twas because she was mine and belonged with me.
My Kteer purred softly at the acceptance.
A knock on the door caused her to gasp and I peered through a slit between my eyelids as my sister pushed into my home, just as she’d always done.
“Vro—oh.”
Her loud call dropped to a hushed whisper as she came to a stop, eyeing Rowena.
“Are ye escaping, then?”
Was it my imagination, or did Rowena flush as she glanced back at me, ‘asleep’ in the bed?
“I could not find the chamber pot,” she finally admitted in a hushed whisper.
My sister began to chuckle softly.
“That’s because Vrogul lives alone and sees nae reason no’ to just piss out the front door.”
Which she now held open as she jerked her head toward the awakening village.
“Come along, we’ll let him sleep. I’ve made more porridge than Matthias and I can eat, and after breakfast, I’ll take ye to the hot springs.”
“Hot springs?” Rowena breathed, almost reverently. “I…”
She glanced back at me again.
“Am I allowed?”
Issa chuckled dismissively and flapped a hand at me.
“Who cares? I’d be miserable without my daily soak for my back, and I ken ye want some clean clothing. Let my brother sleep, he’s likely exhausted.”
I could smell Rowena’s hesitation as she glanced back at me, and I wondered if Issa thought I’d spent the night slaking my lusts on my pretty little wildcat.
But to my surprise, Rowena spoke in my favor.
“Do you think…is he well?” she whispered. “He did not feel feverish…”
“If I ken Vrogul, he was awake for three days straight, watching over his warriors. He deserves the chance to sleep now.”
Did I?
And how did my sister know me so well?
“I do not think he slept at all on the longboat,” Rowena admitted. “I suppose he must be tired.”
Issa slid her arm through the human’s.
“Our chief takes his responsibilities seriously. Why do ye think our people elected him to the role?”
“Elected?”
“Our father was—och, come along, I’ll tell ye as we break our fast, after ye piss. But dinnae let go of me—Matthias gets snippy if he thinks I’m trotting around the village without support.”
I swear to the gods below, I heard Rowena smile at that, and she ceased delaying.
As the door closed behind them, I allowed myself a smile. Clever Issa had managed to get my wildcat out the door and into the village while assuring me she would be there to keep an eye on her. Rowena would be safe.
And me?
I rolled to one side, intending to push myself out of the bed…only to catch the scent of her. Rowena had slept beside me all night, aye, but before that, she’d laid beneath me, and the scent of her arousal had been unmistakable.
With a groan, I rolled to my back, my hand going to my cock, still heavy and hard beneath my kilt. I’d done so well, all night, to ignore its throbbing, and all it had taken was one whiff of Rowena’s arousal, and I was near to spilling again.
Last night, she’d squirmed beneath me, had felt my erection and known what it meant. Her arousal had been instinctual.
Because the scent of her fear had swirled around me as well.
Fear and arousal—a heady, tempting combination…and one I wouldn’t act on.
Until she learned to cease fearing me, I could do naught about my body’s response to her.
With a groan, I gave my cock one last stroke beneath my kilt then flipped the wool back over it. I needed release, but not when the scent of Rowena’s fear was still on my tongue. I’d returned her knife; mayhap the fear would soon dissipate.
Was it too much to hope I might scent her arousal again?
I might still be tired, but I couldn’t lie here beneath these blankets—blankets which smelled of her—any longer. I would take myself to the sparring grounds and ensure my left arm didn’t wither as it recovered.
Then a jump in the cold loch.
And mayhap, by tonight, I might have some control over my cock.
And my Kteer.
And my heart.
Rowena
The porridge was delicious, but the company was even better.
I couldn’t believe I was seated at Issa’s table as her Mate fussed over both of us, as if I were a…a guest, rather than a prisoner.
A captive.
A spoil of war.
“So.”
Issa’s elbows were on the table, her expression rapt.
“I’m dying to ken—how did ye wound my brother? Dinnae expect me to believe ye were defending yer honor or some nonsense.”
I bristled.
“You doubt I could—”
“I doubt Vrogul would try to force himself on a female, nae matter how pretty.” Issa saluted me with her spoon.
“Or how human?”
Matthias plunked his own bowl down at a third seat. “Surely ye’ve noticed humans and orcs have nae trouble mixing?”
He raised a brow in challenge and jerked his chin toward his Mate’s stomach.
“Issa’s carrying my daughter.”
I’d opened my mouth to defend myself but was stopped at the claim of daughter.
“You know you are carrying a girl?”
Issa grinned at him. “Nay, but Matthias believes in manifesting good fortune.”
Daughter. Good fortune.
Slowly, I took a bite of the honeyed porridge and the healer grinned at me.
“Orcs are no’ matrilineal, but since daughters are rarer, they’re honored.”
With a smirk, he cut his eyes toward his Mate.
“Issa is younger than her brothers, but they put up with her nagging, nonetheless.”
With a snort, Issa kicked him and they both snickered.
“My brothers listen to my wisdom,” she correctly regally. “They value my input.”
“They’re wrapped around her wee finger,” Matthias whispered to me, then yelped as his Mate pretended to kick him again.
I found myself smiling at their antics and obvious affection for one another. I wanted to know how—why—they’d found each other, but there were more pressing questions.
I toyed with my porridge.
“The humans here in the village…they are not prisoners?”
Matthias snorted, but Issa leaned forward.
“Hardly. Orcs and humans have traded and Mated for untold generations. My great-grandmother was a human—the auld stories tell us that only by weaving our present together can we have a future.”
My brows had risen. That was…a lovely sentiment. But…
“Declaring war on humans is a shite way to make a future with them.”
Issa’s expression suddenly shuttered and she sat back in her chair. In that moment, I saw similarities to the Stormseeker in her broad jaw and high cheekbones.
Last night you called him Vrogul.
Aye, well, he’d had me pinned to the bed. I would have done much to extricate myself.
You did not entirely mind it.
I frowned into my breakfast bowl, finding it easier to ignore the memory of the heat between my thighs than to remember it.
“Rowena…”
Matthias sighed.
“‘Tis complicated. The Battleborn of Islay are fierce warriors, sea raiders, aye, but…”
When I glanced up, he shook his head sadly.
“No’ entirely by choice. We dinnae make war on humans, we…”
“Take what we need,” Issa grumbled. “Our warriors are stronger, faster, fiercer. Humans ought to stay out of their way.”
“Six men died when your brothers attacked my village,” I shot back hotly, remembering what Vrogul’s lieutenant had reported after they’d set off. “You are saying their deaths are their own faults?”
“I’m saying if they’d just stayed out of the raiders’ way, Battleborn warriors would have taken what they needed and left them alone.”
I remembered the small sacks of seeds Maardok had stowed about the longboat, and the three barrels of ale. I remembered the joy on Issa’s face as she ate the stolen cheese. I remembered the raw ore the orcs had carried away from the village.
They hadn’t depleted the human stores.
“We did not know that.”
I exhaled, frowning, and dropped my spoon into my nearly empty bowl.
“There are stories and rumors throughout the Isles—horrors of orcish raiding parties. When the call went out that they had been spotted on the horizon, the men in the village were desperate to protect their way of life and their families.”
Issa exchanged a glance with her Mate which looked almost…regretful. But she’d enjoyed the stolen goods as much as the rest of them, aye?
I scowled.
“Vrogul doesnae kill more than he must,” was all Matthias would say, and his Mate plastered on a smile.
“Ye still have nae told us how ye wounded Vrogul.”