Chapter 69
It took a few more moments before Raye and Kalfr and Gaelfr detangled themselves, and returned to the tasks at hand.
“We have almost finished blocking this exit, voreur,” announced Soren, who’d been waiting impatiently nearby in his quilt.
“We must block the other end also, but it would be best to wait and do this after nightfall, so no humans catch sight nor sound of this. Thus, William and I will stay and wait until then, and return to the byrgi after.”
Kalfr gave Soren a grateful smile, and a low bow. “Thank you, brother,” he said. “I hope you will not be too bored. And do you wish for some warriors to guard you?”
He glanced toward Olarr and Othan and Egil, who were all still standing nearby speaking together, but the top of Soren’s quilt firmly shook back and forth.
“No, we can well guard ourselves,” came his crisp reply.
“And I shall not be bored today, for William has been cheeky and unruly all this afternoon, and thus is in dire need of some extended correction.”
With that, he spun and stalked back toward William, his quilt sweeping out majestically behind him.
And though Kalfr wryly smiled after him, Gaelfr was now fully focused on frowning at Raye, and particularly at — right.
The place where Sybil had stabbed her with that knife.
And though it wasn’t bleeding anymore, it was still an ugly, jagged red line in Raye’s skin, and the blood was still smeared all over it, and stained down on her dress, too.
“Why have you not better healed this?” Gaelfr demanded toward Rurik, who was still hovering behind him, his hands on his back. “Our mate has been wounded!”
He cast a narrow, scathing look sideways, toward — toward Sybil.
And goddess, Raye had entirely forgotten Sybil was still there, but she indeed hadn’t moved, still bound there against the wall, watching everything that had just transpired — including Raye and Kalfr and Gaelfr kissing like that.
And clearly it wasn’t a sight she’d enjoyed seeing, based on her venomous glare toward Kalfr’s face.
“That cut was naught, when weighed against the smoke poisoning her lungs,” Rurik snapped at Gaelfr, not lifting his eyes from his back.
“And soon poisoning yours, also, if you will not stay still. Though” — he shot a glance toward Raye’s wound — “you can take solace in the truth that without all the new fat and muscle your woman has gained, this wound would have been far worse.”
Gaelfr blinked, while a look of deep satisfaction slowly crept across his face. “Ach, my good feeding and fattening has been a great help in many matters,” he smugly replied. “I have now saved your life with this, saeta.”
Rurik gave a roll of his eyes Gaelfr couldn’t see, but Raye couldn’t help a fond smile toward Gaelfr, an affectionate pat to his cheek. “Yes, you were wonderful, Gael,” she said, and she meant it. “And now you’ll have even more reason to continue, too.”
She shot a rueful glance down toward her waist, while her thoughts swarmed with heated memories of what Gaelfr had said and done that morning, back in their room.
How it had been excessively clear that his obsession with feeding and tending had gone far deeper than Raye had realized.
How he’d found such power in feeding her and filling her, making her swell and flower, planting her with his precious ástvinur’s seed.
With what he considered to be the best Bautul seed in all the realm.
She shall be just like the goddess, he’d said. Our own goddess, granting us such great beauty, and pleasure, and life.
Gaelfr already had that dazed, greedy look in his eyes, and his hand slipped down Raye’s front, spreading wide and possessive against her belly. “Ach, I will,” he breathed, husky. “I shall give you all my best care and feeding, saeta. We shall grow our son within you, together.”
Raye nodded, smiling toward him with so much affection, she felt already about to burst. At least, until Rurik cleared his throat, and shook his head. “Actually,” he said, “about that.”
Raye froze and jerked to stare at him, her heartbeat skipping. Was — was something wrong with her pregnancy, after all? Had all the fear and danger from this day finally exacted their price, and harmed their son?
Kalfr and Gaelfr were staring at Rurik too, looking just as alarmed as she felt, while Rurik chuckled, and eased around to touch at Raye’s belly, too. “No need to panic thus, any of you,” he said. “I only thought I felt — ach.”
A distinct look of interest flared across his eyes, his head thoughtfully tilting, while Raye’s heart kept slamming against her ribs. “What?” she demanded. “What do you feel?”
Rurik took a long moment replying, shifting his hands against Raye’s waist. “It is not just one son,” he said, “but two.”
Two. Two?! Two sons?!
Raye’s mouth fell open, her eyes wildly darting between Kalfr and Gaelfr, as if seeking some confirmation of this — but they were both still staring at Rurik, their eyes wide with shocked disbelief.
“W-what do you mean, two?” Raye asked, her voice faint. “As in… I’m carrying twins? Is that — is that even possible, for orcs?”
Rurik nodded as he drew back again, a satisfied smile on his mouth. “It is rare,” he replied, “rarer than with humans, enough that I have never myself witnessed it. But it is yet possible, it seems.”
Raye still couldn’t follow this, still staring blankly toward him. “But — this morning, when you first scented I was pregnant,” she stammered, with a sharp glance between Kalfr and Gaelfr. “That’s — that’s not what you smelled, right? It was only… one son. Kalfr’s son.”
Kalfr and Gaelfr both slowly nodded, still looking utterly mystified, but Rurik’s satisfied smile drew wider. “Grant me a guess, then,” he said. “And soon after you scented this, you shot a fresh load inside her.”
He was pointing his claw at Gaelfr, who blinked and slowly nodded back, a flush creeping up his neck. To which Rurik nodded too, raising his brows. “And I ken you felt a great urge to do this?” he asked. “Mayhap you all felt the need for this?”
Raye and Kalfr exchanged a searching look, because — yes, perhaps they had.
Kalfr had wanted her and Gaelfr together, not only this morning, but leading up to it, too — and goddess knew Raye had wanted Gaelfr, maybe all this time.
She’d wanted him so much, she’d eagerly welcomed his hard ploughing that morning, had begged and pleaded for him.
Please, feed me. Fatten me. Whatever you’ll give me…
“I have heard tales of this,” Rurik continued. “And each time, it was with Bautul orcs who have long been bonded as ástvinur. And once the first orc has sparked a son upon their woman, the bond calls forth a second seed from the woman, so the second orc may spark a son upon her, also.”
What? Raye’s hand clutched to her belly, because Rurik really meant… the second son was Gaelfr’s? She was carrying a son from — from each of them? Together?
Gaelfr’s rising flush had spread across his face, making it look strangely mottled, and though his mouth opened, nothing came out — and then he staggered sideways, enough that Kalfr clutched for him, and dragged him back upright.
And Kalfr was — grinning, laughing, his face lit up, the warmth and life and fondness dancing in his eyes.
“Ach, do not faint on us, Gael,” he said, husky, as his arm hooked around his neck. “You are pleased, are you not?”
Gaelfr only stared blankly back at Kalfr and Raye, and as Raye gazed back toward him, more awareness flickered through her thoughts.
Even if Gaelfr had so desperately wanted to spark Kalfr’s son upon her, even if he would always fully treat that son as his own — maybe there had still been some part of him that had quietly longed to make a son of his own seed with her, too.
And now, the goddess had granted him both his longings at once, and made doubly sure he would be part of this with them, always.
Raye’s smile toward him was slow, achingly affectionate, and she leaned up to kiss at his hot cheek. “I think it’s perfect, Gael, don’t you?” she told him. “Growing both your sons, together. Just imagine all the extra feeding you’ll need to give me.”
Gaelfr slightly staggered again, his breath heaving out harsh, his eyes blazing with dangerous heat on Raye’s face.
And for an instant, she thought he might rush toward her, yank up her skirts, and start fucking her where she stood — but Kalfr’s arm hooked him closer, so he could turn his head and inhale deep against Gaelfr’s neck.
“Deep breaths, ástin mín,” he murmured. “Plenty of time.”
Gaelfr betrayed a jerky, full-body shudder, his eyes still almost feral — but then, with obvious effort, he nodded. “A-ach,” he gasped. “But, saeta — you may not wish — you must not feel any need — it may be — dangerous.”
He heaved out the last word, harsh and final, the grief already flickering through his eyes. Enough to catch Raye’s breath, too, and she shot a swift, questioning glance toward Rurik. Would this be dangerous? How much extra risk would she be taking on, by carrying two orc sons, rather than one?
But Rurik didn’t appear particularly concerned, and gave a careless shrug. “All pregnancies carry some danger,” he said. “But you are a hale, hearty woman, who has already carried and birthed one orc son. And she shall be well cared for, shall she not?”
He aimed that question toward Kalfr and Gaelfr, and Gaelfr rapidly nodded, while Kalfr’s eyes sharpened on Rurik’s face. “Would you stay and help until then, brother?” he asked. “We shall gladly pay you. And feed you as much of our cooking as you please.”
Rurik’s mouth pursed, and Raye belatedly recalled what he’d told them, when he and Julian had first arrived. That they were only staying until all this mess was sorted, and then they would move on again, for good.
But Rurik seemed to be considering Kalfr’s offer, and finally he nodded. “I shall speak to Julian about extending our time here,” he said. “It may be helpful to my plans, to learn more of how to spark twins thus. And helpful to learn more of her plans in the north, also.”
He jerked his head sideways, toward — right, toward Sybil, who Raye couldn’t seem to stop forgetting about.
And who was, predictably, already rasping something at Rurik about never telling him her plans, ever — but all of them fully ignored her, and Rurik turned back toward Kalfr again, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“Also, where do you mean to keep her?” he asked, jerking his head toward Sybil. “She shall now be your prisoner, you ken. Lest you wish her to run off and tell the rest of our enemies all you have done here.”
Kalfr sighed and nodded, and angled a weary glance toward Sybil.
“We shall need to speak with the clan and the mountain upon this,” he replied.
“Even if we wished to keep her at the byrgi, we have no good place for this. There are yet dungeons at the mountain, but these would not be a good place for a human, either.”
Sybil’s rasps had risen to a scraping series of terrified-sounding curses, enough that Raye let out an irritated groan, and twisted to glare at her.
“Look, you tried to kill us,” she snapped.
“Multiple times. You’d be dead and burning right now if Kalfr hadn’t made that promise to you.
And you’re damned lucky he made that promise, because even if you don’t deserve it” — she shot a glance at Kalfr — “you can trust he’ll keep his word, and make sure you’re safe. ”
And goddess, what had become of her, that she was still helping Kalfr keep that promise, for the benefit of the woman who’d brought them all so much pain?
But as Raye held her gaze on Kalfr, drinking up the warmth and the gratitude shimmering in his eyes, she knew, sudden but certain, that her choice wasn’t about Sybil at all.
It was about her own choice. She was choosing to trust her mate, even in something like this — and thereby trusting her own judgement, too.
“Thank you, saeta,” Kalfr murmured, leaning in to press a fervent kiss to her hair. “Your trust holds — great meaning, to me.”
His voice was hoarse, heartfelt, and Raye squeezed him tight in return, drawing in deep breaths of him, feeling his hands spasm against her skin.
“We will speak more upon this,” he murmured.
“But for now” — he twisted away toward Rurik again — “are we all healed enough to leave, then? Are we safe to meet our son, and travel home?”
Safe. Their son. Home. The longing furled all through Raye’s body, because it all sounded like a dream, like something too unspeakably precious to be true.
But when Rurik nodded, the dream shimmered closer, made even sharper and brighter by Kalfr’s stunning smile toward Raye, his hand clasping against hers.
“Then come,” he said. “Home.”