Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Vidorak
It was probably not the best idea to run back to the family quarters with how tightly wound he felt. After spending the whole day under the analyzing eye of his uncle and the jarls, Vidorak felt his control buckling.
Nazghor jogged up from behind him. “You are a hard orc to track down. Can we speak for a moment?”
Speaking with Nazghor was not high on his priority list at the moment, and he scrambled for excuses to give him.
Nazghor sensed this, and a wide grin split his face. “Come, let’s go to the training grounds. The way you look now, I’m not sure you could open a door without tearing it off its hinges.”
Unfortunately, he was right. While every part of him demanded to return to his mate, he wasn’t sure how he’d react upon seeing her. Once her addicting smell hit him, he was likely to lose all control and either tie her to him or fuck her senseless or possibly both.
Such a move might not be received very well. Getting rid of some pent-up energy was the smarter choice.
“Make it quick.” Vidorak changed directions and followed Nazghor down the familiar tunnels.
They exited onto the flat basin that sat between several mountain peaks. Their bulky orc bodies made it difficult to train within the mountain, so they kept the training to the outside grounds.
The clan was busy enjoying their evening meal, so Nazghor and Vidorak were outside alone. They warmed up, stretching out the stiffness that had built throughout the day. It was nighttime, and for once, the moon glowed unimpeded by clouds.
“Something tells me things did not go as planned with your trip,” Nazghor began, testing the waters of how much Vidorak was willing to share without coming out directly and asking.
Normally, Vidorak appreciated this, but currently, he was finding it bothersome.
There was something refreshing about the way Calypso just demanded exactly what she wanted to know. Without coyness or hesitation.
“If you keep thinking about your mate every other minute, we will get nowhere,” Nazghor interrupted his thoughts.
That quickly got Vidorak’s attention. “How did you know?”
“Your scents are starting to mix. Your clan might’ve forgotten what a mated pair smells like over the years, but it is recent in my mind.”
Despite all the loss he had suffered, Nazghor still maintained such an even-tempered demeanor, always so skilled at making others feel at ease.
The plague that had ravaged Rava ten years back had decimated the orc clan that resided there—Nazghor’s mate included.
Having now experienced a mate bond, Vidorak couldn’t imagine surviving the grief.
“I did not think it was possible since she is not an orcess,” he admitted.
“Why not? It’s a connection of the souls after all, not the physical body.” Nazghor shrugged. “Now if you’re disappointed with your beautiful mate, I can certainly relieve you of the burden.”
Vidorak’s fist connected with Nazghor’s face before he even processed what was happening. His possessiveness clawed at him to punish the threat regardless of it being his friend.
The only thing that stopped him from pummeling his face again was the bloody grin that Nazghor held and the complete lack of interest Vidorak sensed from him.
“Good to see you are no exception to how territorial mated orcs are.” Nazghor wiped the blood from the small gash at the corner of his lip. “Why do you seem sullen? More than the regular amount anyhow.”
Vidorak wouldn’t apologize for punching him; it was clear Nazghor knew what he was doing by goading him.
“Because it does not matter if she is my mate when we have no future!” he bellowed. The ache in his chest felt suffocating. “I hate being reminded of that every time I see her.”
“Why would there be no future? I think—”
“By the end of the fortnight, I will challenge my uncle for control of the clan.” Vidorak silenced him.
For once, Nazghor’s relaxed manner turned into concern.
“It’s too soon. Most of the jarls still support Urim. And we still haven’t heard from the Bear Lake clan.”
The colony lay far to the northeast of the realm. It was under the king's control on maps alone. In reality, the frozen tundra ruled itself in segregation. It was the only orc clan untouched by disease or war.
Vidorak shook his head. “There is no more time. Urim has forced my hand in this. I won’t discuss it further. What I want to know is whether you will lead Calypso out of the mountain tomorrow and take her back to Taybe.”
“Vidorak . . .” Nazghor began, set to argue, but then paused and nodded. “You can trust me. What about Mor?”
“I’ll speak with Grushag about that. Once the challenge begins, she’ll need to be taken away.” He hesitated, knowing the depth of heartbreak his mother already carried. “I do not want her to see.”
It wasn’t simply about the fight with his uncle, but also about what would happen next. If he won, leading with dissenting jarls risked breaking apart the entire clan. If he lost, he did not want his mother to witness his death.
Nazghor nodded, his jaw clenched. Unhappy but also not opposing what would come to be.
After that, they trained silently, Nazghor pushing him harder than he ever had in the past. It wasn’t until Vidorak completely exhausted himself that he returned to the family quarters.
Upon entering, he heard Calypso before seeing her. She sounded as if she were having a conversation with someone.
“Go away!” The hiss in her command caused him to burst into her room.
He found her alone, lying on her side in bed with her eyes closed. She didn’t glance his way as he stood in the doorway.
“Are you in pain?” he asked, searching for a threat that wasn’t there.
She opened her eyes, expression unreadable. “I am fine. You weren’t in the dining hall when we served the food.”
“Nazghor and I were training,” he answered, but he could tell her mind was elsewhere. “You looked lost in thought.”
“I want to ask you something. You can come in.” She sat up and crossed her legs on the small mattress.
Vidorak entered, careful to keep distance between them. “Ask away.”
“How much do you know about the human captives disappearing from the mountain?”
“There have been rumors about a male taking them, but I could never discover who was behind it. With Nazghor and Grushag’s help, I send as many as I can back to their villages, but we’ve had to act covertly.”
“Urim never ordered you to handle the captives?”
“My uncle used me when he had more violent orders.”
Her expression was contemplative. “It’s the secrecy that I find odd. Your uncle doesn’t strike me as someone who hides his violence.”
No, he wasn’t, which made Vidorak think he wasn’t killing these women. “Urim is more greedy than violent.”
Silence fell between them as she considered what he’d said.
“Who were you talking to when I came into the room?” he asked.
Her eyes darted away at that question. “My mother.”
He frowned, not quite catching her meaning.
With a breath, she looked back at him and explained, “Occupational hazard of the black magic. Sometimes I see people who have died or hear voices that aren’t mine.”
Another cost to her black magic. Her words unnerved him, not because he was horrified by her, but because he was scared for her.
“That must be frightening.” As much as he loved his father, the idea of seeing him at random, following him like a ghost, would be horrifying.
She shrugged. “It is what it is. I cannot change it.”
“Even if you stop your black magic?”
Her eyes sharpened. “There’s no stopping what is already part of me. But I have not added anymore blood tattoos in months.”
He was glad of that for the simple fact that it was clearly harming her. She may believe in her need for revenge at all costs, but it was not worth destroying her mind.
“What helps when you have these visions?”
“Being around others. It reminds me who’s actually alive.”
“I can stay with you tonight, if you’d like,” he offered, barely holding back from crossing the room.
She did not reach for him. Instead, she shook her head and laid back in bed. “I would prefer to be alone.”
For a moment, he considered ignoring that and going over to comfort her. To embrace and distract her from the thoughts that plagued her. He wanted to show her how he desired her, all of her, even the dark parts she wanted to hide.
“Goodnight, Calypso,” he grunted before retreating to his room.
He’d given in to his desires last night, and it only temporarily satiated the ache. In fact, he craved her even more. He wanted to get lost in the pleasure between them, shut out the rest of the world.
But to do that would be selfish. As much as every part of him rebelled at the thought, the truth was there was no forever for them.