I wanted to avoid Steagor by escaping from the inn, but I forgot one crucial fact—we only have one horse. The enormous animal stands stoically still while I fidget in the saddle, waiting for the orc to mount as well.
Steagor holds the bridle in one hand, his other hand on the saddle behind me. He looks up at me with serious dark eyes and asks, “Would you rather I walk beside you? If you don’t want me up there with you?”
My heart squeezes at his careful words. He tries to remain calm about this, but a flicker of pain flashes over his face, and I can’t hurt him even worse.
“No,” I hurry to say. “Of course not. It’s not a problem.”
And it’s not. Despite the push and pull of today’s adventure, despite the confusion in my heart and my head, my body knows what it wants. Steagor hauls himself up, and I instinctively curl up into his warmth before I can think better of it. He stills for a moment, then wraps one arm around my shoulders and presses me close.
In the last couple of days, I’ve shared several embraces with him, and each one has been different, some sensual, some comforting. This one is intimate on another level, a melding of two weary souls. I don’t know what fate awaits me at the end of this journey, but in spite of everything that’s happened between us, I’m glad I’m traveling with him.
“Sleep if you can,” he murmurs in my ear. “We have a long way to go.”
It takes me a while to nod off, with my thoughts racing, but my body demands its due after a tumultuous day, and I fall asleep in Steagor’s arms, safe in the knowledge that he won’t let anything happen to me.
I awaken sometime later, and the world is pitch-black around me. For a moment, I’m confused, and I jerk upright, slamming the top of my head into something hard.
“Ow, woman,” Steagor grumbles and tightens his arm around me. “Calm down.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Did I hurt you?”
He lets out a low chuckle, a sound I’ve only heard a handful of times but want to hear again.
“No, sweet,” he says. “Takes more than that to hurt me.”
His words are light on the surface, but in the night, I wonder at their deeper meaning. How is this strong, handsome orc still single? He said he hadn’t found his mate, but what does that really mean? I want to ask him about it, but at the same time, I don’t want to listen to him talk about some other woman he’s waiting for.
“How long until we get there?” I ask, snuggling deeper into his cloak.
The autumn night is cold around us, the crisp wind sneaking through my clothes. I’ll need more than just a borrowed dress and cloak, and soon—especially since winter will be much harsher than I’m used to in these northern parts.
“An hour,” he says. “Maybe less now that you’re awake and we can ride faster.”
He’d kept the pace slow so I could rest. My heart does a stupid, dangerous flip, and my throat closes up at this small kindness. But I can’t allow myself to get attached to him, not like this, so I swallow and pretend I didn’t understand the significance of his words.
Instead, I ask about the people I met in the Hill, everyone from Dawn and Mara to Vark and Gorvor. Steagor patiently answers my questions, though he clams up when I demand to know more about Neekar. I haven’t forgotten his outburst in the fighting hall, and clearly, neither has Steagor. I could lean on that and push him more, but I like the tentative truce between us, so I change the subject to my housing situation.
“Do you think there’s a free room anywhere in the Hill?” I ask. “I’d hate to impose on you any more than I already have.”
Steagor tightens his arm around me. “You’ll be staying with me.”
I look up at him, though I can’t make out anything but the faintest outline of his jaw in the gloom under the forest canopy. “But—”
“It could be dangerous,” he snaps.
“Inside the Hill?” I frown, thinking of all the guards I saw at the doors and the way Mara and Dawn seemed to enjoy their freedom.
“Aye. We have a vicious prisoner in the dungeons.”
That has me sitting up taller. “Really? Is it a human? Or an orc? What did he do?”
Steagor mumbles something under his breath, then says, “Why is it that women are always interested in the bad seeds?”
I duck my head and smile at his offended tone. “I’m not interested. You’re the one who mentioned him. I’m curious, is all.”
He relaxes in the saddle and explains about King Gorvor’s brother and the attempt to kidnap Dawn that spring. It makes sense now that there are so many guards posted throughout the corridors, and that Steagor is overprotective.
I’m about to ask more questions, but Steagor taps my arm and points into the darkness. And there, in the distance, is a small yellow light, calling us home.
It’s Vark who waits for us again, and I wonder why an orc of his stature—his obvious warrior posture and behavior—would be reduced to the role of a stable boy. From what Steagor told me of the incident involving the king’s brother earlier this year, I know Vark was injured and has since resigned his duty as the queen’s guard.
Now, he helps me from the saddle. As he lowers me gently to the ground, his nostrils flare, and he inhales deeply. Then he shoots his gaze up to Steagor and raises his eyebrows. I glance at Steagor just in time to see him shake his head, glowering.
“What’s going on?” I right my cloak when Vark releases me.
“Er,” Vark says, scratching the back of his neck.
“It’s nothing,” Steagor answers gruffly. “Vark is poking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“What was that look for?” I insist, digging my heels in.
But Steagor unties the saddlebags from the horse and hands the reins to Vark. “Thank you, friend.”
Vark gives us one more indecipherable look, shakes his head, and stalks off with the huge horse following him meekly. Steagor takes my elbow and guides me into the Hill, past the guards on duty who nod at us as we pass, and into the silent, warm underground corridors. The Hill is quiet this late at night, most lanterns dimmed, so I clutch Steagor’s sleeve to avoid stumbling in the dark.
The orc doesn’t say anything to explain what happened with Vark, though. He seems intent on pretending nothing is amiss, and I hate that. If I’m going to be a part of this community, I need to learn more about it, so I resolve to find Mara and Dawn tomorrow and question them until I have all the answers.
We reach the door to Steagor’s room, and he ushers me inside, into complete darkness. Not even a sliver of light penetrates from underneath the door. I stop a couple of paces in, unwilling to go any farther.
“Steagor?” I ask when he releases my arm and steps away from me.
He moves around the room, his footsteps and the shuffle of his bags the only indication of where he is. A heavy thunk announces that he has put down the satchel containing my dowry, and I expect him to light a lantern any moment now to help me see.
But he doesn’t. Instead, his footsteps draw near again. A huff of his breath on my neck is the only warning before he touches my hand.
“Come,” he orders, his voice low.
I follow him blindly until I feel the brush of the wall tapestry that marks the entrance to the privy.
“I will wait here for you.” He nudges me inside.
I don’t know what he’s doing, or why he won’t allow me light, but I feel my way forward and use the privy anyway, my senses on high alert.
I can’t see anything—not a single shape in all the blackness. I wash my trembling hands under the flowing stream of ice-cold water running from the spout in the wall, then splash some on my face to clear my thoughts.
Maybe Steagor wants to go to bed straight away? I can undress in darkness, no problem. Only I’m not tired—not now. My chest rises and falls at the thought that though I can’t see, Steagor can. When I step out of the privy, he’ll see how I’m shaking and hear every too-fast breath. I bite the inside of my cheek, willing myself to calm down. Then I put out my hand and push aside the tapestry.
I sense him immediately, the large, hulking presence. He takes my hand and wraps his fingers around mine, then tugs me forward.
Toward the bed.
