Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
“ I don’t understand,” I said—or, tried to say. The gag in my mouth made it entirely impossible. Some honor . I was captured, bound, and gagged, and here Bikkar was talking nonsense. I didn’t want to die or face Caiburn’s mayor after such a gross misunderstanding, but nothing Bikkar was saying made sense. Then again, I knew very little about orc law and culture.
Bikkar still regarded me with rage, but it was softening as the moments passed. I wasn’t sure if he’d understood my unintelligible words at first. He began dragging me with him across the snowy ground.
I beat my fists against him as best I could with them bound. “Kill me,” I tried to say, but it came out muffled. I had no guarantee he’d even deliver me to Caiburn’s mayor, and if that wasn’t what would happen, I’d rather die than be prisoner to Bikkar and his tribe.
Bikkar shook me and then pointed to the sky. “Orc law. Yule is a time of peace and gathering. Until sunrise tomorrow, you are mine . My responsibility. My guest. Or I could leave you out here bound and cold and food for the wolves Caiburn actually fears. Your choice, thief mage.”
If unbound and armed with weapons and my small amount of magic, a bunch of wolves would be no issue for me. But Bikkar’s ropes kept my hands pressed tightly together. There’d be no fighting or casting spells without my hands free and some rest.
Still, a harsh cord of distrust kept me in a stranglehold. A new plan was forming around it. If I spent more time with Bikkar, I could formulate an escape that would mean not immediately facing Caiburn’s—and therefore the Crown’s—judgement about this egregious error, nor would I end up dead. At least, not dead soon .
If I could escape, I’d have time to regroup. To think. And to maybe find my party, who’d left me behind, and demand answers for why they’d betrayed me like that.
I let my shoulders fall and the fight leave me.
Bikkar grunted an acknowledgment. He yanked hard on the ropes and pulled me alongside him all the way to his horse that’d been waiting by a tree, as if a fight hadn’t happened nearby. Bikkar mounted his horse first. The cold rushed in around me in his absence. I started shivering immediately. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off, and now very little protected me from the cold.
Bikkar reached down and scooped me off the ground with this unnatural strength. He placed me before him on the horse. My insides churned as his arms came around me for the reins, but I welcomed the warmth his hold immediately provided. I hated this. Needing that warmth to not shiver to death in his grip, but knowing this orc was clutching me. Keeping me here, away from my party and freedom.
Sure, we’d screwed up. Big time. But it hadn’t entirely been our fault. Should we have researched the job and our benefactor a bit more? Yes. But no one in Caiburn should have been hiring mercenaries if the Crown had ordered peace with orcs in this area.
Bikkar’s soldiers had paid the price. And my party had betrayed me and left in the aftermath.
Now I alone would face judgement for this mess if I couldn’t escape Bikkar.
Bikkar nudged his horse, and we were off. I was surprised the beast could hold Bikkar’s massive form, but the large horse seemed unfazed. The weight of Bikkar’s muscular arms held mine in place. His chest rose and fell at my back as we rode, his body warming mine. I sat there, restrained by him, the ropes, and the gag in my mouth, unable to do or think about anything other than this current predicament.
I’d hated Bikkar since my party’s first encounter with his tribe. We’d exchanged scars and punches, spilled blood on both sides. Now I was riding with him toward some unknown destination as his guest . The newness of this peace between us—captured and restrained though I was—sat uneasily with me. It felt like a trap. Unnatural. Like at any moment, those hands could leave the reins and close around my neck.
A jolt of unexpected excitement rolled through me at the thought of his massive hand around my throat. It hit me so hard, my whole body shivered. Bikkar either didn’t notice or chose not to respond because he didn’t question it at all. All I could do was watch his hands before me. Feel his warm body at my back. Feel the riding motion of the horse pressing us together.
Bikkar grunted suddenly as his body went rigid.
I gulped and wanted to ask what had happened, but the gag in my mouth kept me mostly silent.
Bikkar didn’t relax or speak, but I felt a hardness press against my back.
Heat lapped at my cheeks and built between my thighs. A traitorous warmth that I wanted desperately to call the snow around us to freeze away. To stop.
But we kept riding, neither of us speaking aloud about the tension now thick between us. And why would we? We hated each other. And tomorrow, when Yule was over, he’d be delivering me to judgement one way or another.
That thought alone was enough to cut through this fog of arousal. There were only three ways this could possibly end, and only one assured I’d have a chance to explain my case.
I had to escape. Which meant catching Bikkar with his guard down.
I stiffened against him, too, and built my resolve. I’d find that moment and exploit it as best I could to escape. I just had to wait for it.
But too soon we approached a small, roughly-built cabin in the woods. Smoke rose between trees nearby, and I knew instantly that we were on the edge of Bikkar’s tribe’s land. This must have been his cabin. Bikkar had taken me to his home . He wasn’t joking around about this Yule thing, which made me wonder if he genuinely thought we were both capable of being civil until sunrise tomorrow.
I supposed if he kept me gagged and tied up, then it might be easy.
Bikkar helped me dismount his horse before doing the same and walking both of us to a small, clearly hastily made barn behind his cabin. The main structure itself wasn’t much smaller than the barn. One floor high and maybe big enough for the essentials. But who was I to judge? My party and I had no property, no home. We’d moved around wherever the jobs had led us.
Until today .
I watched from where Bikkar had tied me to a post as he secured and cared for his horse. The entire time he did so, I considered running. But the chances I’d get these ropes off and run far enough before he noticed were very slim, and any magic might spook the horse.
No, I’d have to wait even longer to try escaping. Which would’ve been fine if maybe we were inside because right now, my teeth chattered fiercely. After at least an hour in the snow following a tumble into it, my clothes were soaked through and the sun wasn’t very warm. My breath spiraled out from my lips on every exhale.
Just when I thought that maybe I’d freeze to death out here, thus disappointing Bikkar, who seemed intent on following his orc Yule tradition despite the disgusted twist in his lips, he returned to untie me. His massive, green fingers brushed my wrists, a caress which caused my breath to hitch.
Bikkar paused for the barest fraction of a second before continuing—thank the gods . I did not want to explain my body’s reaction to this orc, least of all to his face. Bikkar the Bonecrusher was my enemy . Had been for a year. And there was nothing more to it, no matter how well we fought together, dancing in sync like partners, or how actually relieving his warm body had felt against my freezing one.
Bikkar retied my wrists together once I was detached from the post and led me into his cabin. It was as simple inside as I’d expected. One open room with a rough fireplace, some rugs and pillows on the floor in front of it, a bed, some cooking equipment, a table and two chairs, and one door that most likely led to some sort of washroom. Minimal decoration. There wasn’t even a fire going yet, much to my immediate dismay.
Bikkar led me to the rugs in front of the fireplace and forced me to my knees. “Stay.”
As if I had a choice. But— gods —the firm grip he’d had on my shoulder, the view from my knees as I stared up at him?—
No. No, no, no. What the hell was wrong with me? This orc had caused me and my party so much trouble and blood and pain. My party had killed members of his tribe. I shouldn’t have been thinking of this orc in any other way besides as an enemy, but here my traitorous body was, pooling warmth between my thighs when it should have been anger and vengeance churning in my chest.
I stayed where I was told to as Bikkar removed his heavy leather armor and stowed his weapons away from me. He wore simple fabric clothes underneath in dark shades of brown. His cheeks had a slight redness to them as I was sure mine did from the cold outside.
Bikkar wasted no time starting a fire. He knelt on one knee before the fireplace and stayed there until flames big enough to keep the entire cabin warm roared. Only then did he turn his eyes to me, holding my gaze, for the first time since he’d torn me out of a tree.
I shivered under his emerald gaze, but I was no longer sure if it was from purely cold or unwanted attraction—or both.
“You have caused me much pain, thief mage.” Bikkar shifted until he was sitting cross-legged beside me, but he was so huge that he might as well have been kneeling. “Trust this temporary arrangement is pleasant for neither of us.”
I went to argue against not carrying on with it then, but my words turned into muffled sounds against the gag. So instead, I shot him a glare.
Bikkar snarled, but his expression softened quickly. Too quickly. He reached between us and pulled the gag from my mouth. “Watch your words. I’ve no qualms about keeping you gagged until sunrise.”
I had no doubt about that . Bonecrusher was not known for mercy. And yet here he was, showing it anyway.
“Does Yule mean so much to you?” I asked, hating the way my tone immediately came out biting. I inhaled sharply and looked to side. “What I mean is, why observe it if you hate me so? No one will know.” And no one cares. The only people who would had run in fear instead of waiting to assist me out of the fight.
Anger flashed in Bikkar’s eyes. His fists clenched around the gag, making it look diminutive in his hold. “Because unlike what you people think , we do have rules. Customs. Traditions that mean something, that must be respected. And this is one.” I glanced away again, unable to handle the brunt of his rage-filled glower, but Bikkar gripped my chin and forced my gaze to meet his. “This is a mercy, thief mage. Be grateful for it.”
“Don’t touch me,” I spat. “I’m appreciative of you saving me from death by wolves, but let me the fuck go.”
Bikkar hesitated for only a moment—although that hesitation was weird—before removing his hand from me. The action gave me hope when it shouldn’t have. With a tight inhale, Bikkar reached forward and began undoing the front ties of my top.
“What are you doing?” I shifted away as best I could and nearly fell backward onto my ass.
“You will get sick,” Bikkar explained, unfazed by my reaction. He went back to work and had the top completely undone in moments. Every brush of his fingers on my skin sent chills spiraling down my spine to my toes. Little eddies of excitement that warmed me from the inside out—at least until my senses came back to me.
I rose my bound wrists to hold the piece to my chest. “Stop.”
“There’s no point in letting you be sick for tomorrow, thief mage.”
“Why do you even care ?” I shouted. Bikkar opened his mouth, rage burning in his eyes once more, but I cut him off before he could speak. “Right, Yule. That doesn’t matter to me. You want to keep me safe for your traditions? You go for it. But do not touch me.”
Bikkar leaned in until his warm breath tickled my lips. “I felt the way you molded your body to mine on the ride here. The way you stiffened when you realized your body craved mine.”
And how his had craved mine . Maybe it’d just been some post-battle fever, but we’d both felt it.
My lips pressed together into a thin line. I wouldn’t admit to anything. Not aloud and definitely not to Bikkar.
“You wanted me to touch you then,” he continued.
“To stay warm,” I shot back. “And to not fall off the horse because you decided to take me home and play house.”
Bikkar grunted deep in his throat. It reverberated through me. He pulled back, his eyes darkened once more. “You can keep throwing this gift in my face, but I will not have you become sick on my account. Not on Yule.”
He reached for my cold, wet top again and pulled it from my grip. Then one of his massive hands closed around where my wrists were bound and held them as he undid the rope with his free hand. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn’t move as he untied me long enough to pull my top from my body, leaving me in just a bra. By the time Bikkar had finished, my chest heaved with every breath and my heart pounded in my ears. I wanted to believe it was because I’d never let Bikkar quite this close before, but the truth was so much less acceptable.
As soon as he’d tossed the garment aside, he retied my wrists together and pressed the palm of one hand against my shoulder. “Lie down.”
My brow furrowed. “No.”
His jaw clenched tight. “We may be enemies, thief mage. But I won’t harm you tonight.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to be naked in front of you.” And yet, there was an ever-increasing part of me that was enjoying his appraisal of my body. Bikkar was doing a decent job of hiding it, but mine wasn’t the only breath hitching. His movements had slowed, too. Gotten gentler.
“If you want to sit in cold, wet pants for the next day, be my guest,” Bikkar said as he reached behind him to grab a warm fur blanket. “I’m only attempting to uphold tradition.” I flinched as he moved close again, but his face was nearly unreadable as he draped the warm blanket around my shoulders.
Uphold tradition . Peace. So, peace was possible with orcs? I supposed thinking it wasn’t was a gross stereotype. But Bikkar and his tribe had clashed with so many towns before the Crown had gotten involved. Even now, enough people in Caiburn feared Bikkar the Bonecrusher that they had hired my party in secret to kill them all. And even after all that blood and all that battle, all the life-debt that hung between us, Bikkar was setting aside that rage and vengeance to uphold orc tradition.
I could not claim to be so faithful to something that I would do the same.
At the end of this, I would still be his prisoner if I didn’t escape. I’d be held accountable for my party’s and my actions this morning. But if I could escape, being in the best shape possible for that escape would be ideal. Which meant not shivering all the time. That’d really be an issue while spellcasting.
“Okay,” I said with a heavy sigh before awkwardly pulling the large fur blanket around me to cover myself. Only then did I—not without humongous effort thanks to my bound hands—manage to slide off my pants and kick them over to Bikkar. I crossed my legs beneath me and faced him as he hung my clothes near the fire to dry. “Thank you.”
Bikkar nodded, but the darkness in his eyes remained. When I looked to his hands, I saw the whites of his knuckles. It was all a stark reminder that Bikkar didn’t want this any more than I did. And yet, here we were.
“It’s Elysia, by the way.”
His green gaze met my blue one. “Hmm?”
“My name,” I clarified as I slipped the fur blanket up my shoulders with my still-bound wrists. “You can call me ‘thief mage’ if you want to. But my name is Elysia.”
Bikkar raised his chin. His uneven tusks caught the firelight, making them appear slightly orange. “Happy Yule, Elysia.”
“Happy Yule, Bikkar.”