Chapter 8
Raye’s eyes snapped open, the shock and disbelief shrieking through her skull.
Gaelfr was biting her. Gaelfr was biting her?!
Raye yelped and flailed away from him, streaking sudden pain through her neck — his teeth tearing out of her, oh hell. What the fuck had she been thinking? What in all the gods’ names had come over her, to allow this horrible terrifying orc to touch her, to taste her, to bite her?
But now Gaelfr looked even more terrifying, looming before her with his eyes burning, his claws long and sharp and vicious, his mouth smeared with blood.
With her blood. And it was all Raye could do to stay upright as she reeled away from him, desperately groping for the wall behind her. What the hell. What the fuck.
“You,” she gasped, amidst her panicked heaving breaths. “You — you —”
She couldn’t get it out, couldn’t form the words, and Gaelfr’s huge body lurched closer. His bloody teeth bared, his clawed hand reaching out toward her, again as if he had every right to bite her, to take her, mine…
“Mama?” cut in a new voice, slicing all the way to Raye’s bones. “What’s wrong?”
Raye whirled around to look, as yet more panic and dread shot through her shaky body. Svein. Svein, fully awake. Standing in his open doorway, staring at her, and clutching Mr. Snuggles tightly to his chest.
Damn it, damn it — and for an instant, Raye could only stare at Svein. And then at Gaelfr, whose eyes caught wide on hers, and then flicked brief but unmistakable down to her neck. To where she could feel a distinct trickle of blood seeping down onto her dress, oh hell.
“N-not to worry, love,” Raye told Svein, though her voice sounded far too faint. “Gaelfr and I were just” — she met his eyes again, caught the wince on his bloody mouth — “having a disagreement.”
Before her, Gaelfr curtly nodded, and surreptitiously wiped his arm against his mouth. “Naught to fear, son,” he said, though his voice sounded faint, too. “Naught is amiss.”
Svein didn’t look even slightly convinced, and his nostrils flared as he frowned up at Gaelfr, his bottom lip jutting out. “But I smell… human blood,” he said. “Mama’s blood.”
His uneasy eyes darted toward Raye, held on the blood on her neck, and she fought the overpowering urge to slap her hand over it, and try to hide it away. She didn’t want to lie to Svein, but what was she supposed to say, what possible explanation could she give —
“Did you… hurt Mama?” Svein insisted, his eyes searching Gaelfr’s face, his mouth. “Did you, Papa Gaelfr?”
There was no way Gaelfr could deny it, and his shoulders slowly slumped, his head bowing, his hand covering his eyes.
Perhaps understanding, just the same as Raye did, that this could be the end of his relationship with Svein, forever.
That Raye could so easily accuse him, blame him, and thereby permanently poison Svein against him.
She could send Gaelfr away for good, he would deserve it, and she would never see him again…
But the thought of it churned in Raye’s gut, and even worse was that look in Svein’s eyes.
That growing sadness and fear, as if maybe he’d expected this all along.
As if he’d known having a father suddenly show up was too good to be true.
Especially a father who’d fed him and guarded him, taught him about hunting and scenting, asked questions and listened attentively to his answers.
And Raye could almost taste the grief on Gaelfr, too. The regret. The way his throat convulsed, his shadowed face gone haggard in the fading firelight. His mouth opening, about to answer Svein, about to confess, to say farewell forever.
“No, love,” Raye’s voice cut in. “Gaelfr didn’t hurt me. It was just — an accident.”
Gaelfr’s head snapped up, his eyes glittering on hers, while before them, Svein’s head tilted, his tooth chewing his lip. “Is that true, Papa Gaelfr? You wouldn’t hurt Mama on purpose, would you?”
Gaelfr’s shoulders rose and fell, and in a jerky movement, he dropped to kneel before Svein, his hand over his heart.
“No, my son,” he said, hoarse. “I would never seek to harm your mother. I have seen how deeply you care for one another, and” — his shadowed eyes angled toward Raye — “how she has been a good mother to you. How she has cared for you, and kept you safe, when I did not.”
Oh. Maybe it was a concession, or even an apology — but Gaelfr couldn’t really mean it, either. Not when he’d just been judging Raye like that. Mocking her. Calling her greedy and jealous and cruel. Wielding her body and her loneliness against her, sinking his teeth into her throat…
“You promise?” Svein asked, his eyes surprisingly flinty on Gaelfr’s face. “You swear you won’t hurt Mama?”
Raye’s chest knotted, her eyes stinging, because Svein was such a brave, generous son, trying to protect her like this, even against an orc far bigger and stronger than he was.
And she couldn’t at all make out Gaelfr’s glance toward her, but his mouth twisted as he nodded, as his hand again went to his heart.
“Ach, my son,” he said, low. “I shall do my utmost to keep your mother safe from harm. I vow this to you, before the goddess.”
It clutched tighter in Raye’s chest, enough that she had to glance away, fight to keep her breathing steady. To remember all the awful things Gaelfr had said, only moments before. Cruel. Greedy. Jealous.
“Oh, good,” came Svein’s voice, far brighter than before, and followed by a long, loud yawn. “What will the goddess do to you, if you break your vow?”
Gaelfr barked a relieved chuckle as he rose to his feet, and settled his hand against Svein’s shoulder. “Ach, you should not wish to know, my son,” he said thickly. “But mayhap I could tell you another tale of the goddess whilst you fall asleep again? Should your mother allow this?”
Raye met Gaelfr’s eyes, catching on how they still looked shadowed, uneasy, regretful.
But he studied her, too, as if truly waiting for her answer, respecting her choice on this.
When just moments ago he’d bitten her, and told her he owned her, and could command her as he pleased.
And no matter what he’d just vowed to Svein, surely this was all a show, a pretty little falsehood, for Svein’s sake.
She could not trust Gaelfr. She could never, ever trust him.
“Go ahead, then,” she said, as steadily as she could. “Sleep well, love.”
Svein nodded and yawned again, and allowed Gaelfr to usher him back into his room.
And for a moment, Raye could only watch through the open door as Gaelfr tucked Svein into his fur again, and began speaking, his voice soft and soothing.
Telling a tale about how Bautul, the first orc of their clan, had been in grave danger from men, and had sought comfort and refuge from the moon, and found his goddess within it.
But even the tale was another bitter twist in Raye’s gut, because Kalfr had told her this one before, hadn’t he?
His voice quiet and reverent just like this, his hand sinking into her hair just the way Gaelfr’s had, drawing her head down onto his solid safe shoulder, into that rich dizzying scent of his skin…
Gods, what was wrong with her, and Raye gritted her teeth as she stumbled over to the washbasin, and began scrubbing the blood off her neck.
It still stung where Gaelfr had bitten her, and every scrape of her cloth only seemed to make it worse.
And it had never hurt like that with Kalfr, had it?
But Kalfr had always been so gentle, as if he’d never wanted to hurt her.
As if he’d meant those vows he’d made, and then —
Raye clamped down on that thought, and hurled the blood-stained cloth back into the basin with too much force. It had been such a ridiculous, exhausting day, and she desperately needed to rest. To sleep, and shut it all away.
She didn’t bother changing her clothes, just staggered for the small bed against the wall, and sank down onto the fur. Curling up facing the wall, taking up as much room as she damn well pleased, because surely Gaelfr would sleep outside after all that, right? Or find room on the floor, at least?
But then came the sound of Svein’s door closing, followed by — footsteps.
Gaelfr’s footsteps, moving toward her, creaking the floor beneath his weight.
And though Raye’s eyes were tightly shut, her body fully dressed and facing away from him, she could still feel his heavy gaze on her back, prickling against her skin.
“I… thank you, woman,” came his low voice, closer than she’d expected. “For… defending me, to our son.”
Raye fought back her grimace, but didn’t reply, and Gaelfr exhaled, slow and heavy in the silence. “And I am… sorry for the rest of it, also,” he added, quieter. “I had no wish to vex you, or harm you.”
Raye squeezed her eyes shut tighter, but didn’t turn, didn’t speak. She had nothing to say to him, she didn’t trust him, she was being civil, doing this for Svein, that was all.
“It was only… your scent, I ken,” Gaelfr went on, his voice hitching. “It is yet so strong of Kalfr. It has been… so long.”
Raye might have laughed, or sobbed, had she not felt so tired, so empty.
Of course it had all been about Kalfr, yet again.
Of course Gaelfr wanted nothing to do with her.
He hated her, he thought she was hideous, he’d been mocking and judging her all day.
I should never have dreamt he could find worse than you.
A convulsive shudder wrenched up Raye’s spine, and behind her, there was another slow, heavy sigh. “This… bite,” came Gaelfr’s voice, sounding reluctant, now. “This ought to be tended, or else it will leave a deep scar. Worse than… the others.”
Worse than the scars Kalfr had left, he meant. Because yes, clearly Gaelfr biting her really had just been about Kalfr, about doing what Kalfr had done, maybe about tasting Kalfr in her skin.
But the wound still hurt, far more than it should, and finally, curse her, Raye managed a nod. Fully expecting Gaelfr to go back to the basin, maybe to wipe the cloth against her skin. And why would she want that from him, she’d already done that, she couldn’t trust him, and…
His body. His weight. Sinking down behind her on the narrow bed, his solid warmth curving close against her.
While careful fingertips brushed against the skin of her neck, nudging away the fallen-out tendrils of her hair.
And what the hell was this, what the hell was he doing, she should be yelling, shoving, something —
But she was caught, frozen, held in the heat of Gaelfr’s big body, the utter torment of his rich musky scent, now swirling so close around her. And then — she twitched all over — his mouth. That soft, slick, too-familiar warmth, settling against her torn skin. Licking her. Kissing her.
And gods damn her, because maybe — maybe a distant traitorous part of her had remembered this, too.
Kalfr… tending her, every time after he’d bitten her.
Kissing her until the pain had entirely faded, and something darkly pleased would whisper behind his beautiful eyes.
It will only scar a little, he had told her, the first time.
But every Bautul bears a few scars, ach?
Gaelfr’s big hand slipped around Raye’s front, drawing her a little closer against him as his mouth kept tending her wound.
His breath tickling, his lips so gentle, his slick tongue licking with slow, intent purpose.
Firing out flares of whispering warmth, sparking out shivery gooseflesh around it, and he had no right to feel this good.
He was probably still only tasting Kalfr on her, he hated her, she couldn’t trust him, worse than you…
“Is this enough?” came his voice, once he drew his mouth away. “Or do you wish me to keep going?”
It should have sounded solicitous, perhaps, but Raye knew that lilt in his voice, that lingering taunt. It was yet another strike against her. He was saying he knew she’d liked it, and he knew she wanted more, damn him.
“No,” Raye hissed, between clenched teeth. “That’s more than enough.”
The sound from Gaelfr behind her might have been a scoff, but he shrugged, and his body settled even closer. His arm curving tighter around her waist, his hand spreading against her ribs, his claws nudging just beneath her breast. As if he was getting comfortable with her, cuddling with her —
“What the hell, Gaelfr,” Raye hissed, and then winced at the sound of his name on her mouth, the way it sounded far too easy, too familiar. “I still did not say you could sleep in my bed!”
Gaelfr only shrugged again, and yawned against her hair. “You can blame our stubborn, clever son for this,” he said, “and how he has gained from me yet another vow to care for you, and keep you safe.”
But he didn’t sound particularly upset by this, either, and Raye shot an incredulous look over her shoulder toward his shadowy face. “That vow was aimed at you,” she snapped. “Svein was trying to protect me from you!”
But Gaelfr’s half-lidded eyes on hers were mild, even reluctantly amused. “Ach, but it was the scent of your blood that awoke him. This was his true fear. This was the vow he wished for.”
Gods, this enraging encroaching orc, because even as Raye’s mouth opened to protest it, she couldn’t dredge up the slightest argument.
While the amusement flickered brighter across Gaelfr’s eyes, and he gave a proprietary pat against her ribs.
“I have sworn to keep you safe, and I shall,” he said.
“And I have not slept in many days, and thus” — he yawned again — “I cannot trust myself to well guard you, if I am not beside you.”
Raye couldn’t find an answer to that, still glaring at him over her shoulder, but he did look tired now, the amusement faded from his shadowed eyes.
“However we feel about one another, woman,” he went on, “you have borne much darkness alone here, without us. And amidst it all, you have kept our precious son pure and hale and safe. Thus” — he betrayed a faint grimace — “you deserve this guarding. You deserve… this vow. This care.”
This vow. This care. Spoken without a hint of mockery in his voice, or his eyes. Instead, he still looked tired, or resigned, or even sad. “So rest, woman,” he murmured. “Be at peace. You are safe with me.”
He didn’t meet her eyes as he said the last bit, but it still vibrated through his body into hers, quivered quiet and close in her belly. Rest. Be at peace. You are safe with me.
And Raye shouldn’t have believed it. Shouldn’t have sagged like that beneath it. Shouldn’t have let herself sink into the softness of the fur, the warmth and strength of his big body behind her. Rest. Safe. Safe…
And with a long, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes, and slept.