We don’t get the chance to do any of what we’ve talked about. A spring storm sends us running to a village inn that evening, and because we’re not the only travelers on the road, we spend the night in a cramped hayloft with a number of other snoring, shuffling travelers. Marut scowls the entire time and doesn’t leave my side, shielding me from everyone by putting his bulky body at my back. And as much as I hate the thought of sharing a space with so many other people, Marut’s warmth is lovely, and I fall asleep immediately, tired from the trip.
After four more days of similar weather, I’m tired, cranky, and worried over our slow progress. We’ve been driving through pouring rain, and though Marut has insisted I ride in the back of the wagon to keep me from the rain, I don’t think I’ve been fully dry since Ultrup. He and the other orc drivers have had it much worse, sitting in the downpour several days in a row, but strangely enough, none of them have complained too much. Their first worry was always the horses, and they paid good money to have them stabled at each inn we spent the night in on the road, even when there were no rooms to be had for us.
At first, I resented the treatment—surely it was more important that we hurry toward the orc lands, where my brother wouldn’t be able to catch up with us—but watching them, I came to realize that what they were doing was right. After all, I was fed well every evening and had a safe space to sleep, and Marut to keep me warm. I even got a chance to bathe one night, a quick and lukewarm wash though it was, which did a lot to ease my discomfort. And the horses were crucial for getting our cargo, the provisions for the clan, to the clan lands. If they didn’t take care of the animals, we’d be stuck in the human kingdom for much longer.
This morning, however, we crossed the border, and when the first orc settlement came into view, a sense of relief washed over the entire party. I tried not to stare but found myself studying the small crowd of orcs and humans who rushed out of their homes to help unload Lirg’s wagon. I learned the male lived here, and the first wagon was to remain in the village while we would travel several hours longer to reach the place they called the Hill.
“It’s lovely,” I remark to Marut as we leave the village and start up a well-maintained road winding deeper into the mountains. “All the doors are taller than I’m used to.”
He glances over his shoulder to where I’m seated on a crate of winter squash, just inside the covered part of the wagon. His gaze tracks my damp cloak—I’d jumped out of the wagon to meet Lirg’s wife and lovely children—and he scowls, then turns back to face the road.
“Put a blanket around your shoulders,” he commands without looking at me.
I obey but squint at him through narrowed eyes. He’s been getting increasingly growly and reticent over the past days, and I think I know why. He expected to lie with his wife long before now, but the circumstances of our trip have prevented that. I feel especially guilty about it because he’s had to move so slowly with me. Perhaps if he took another woman as his wife, either human or orc, things would have been different. He might have taken her that first night, or the second, and they’d have consummated their marriage. I’ve forced him to act against his instincts, and he must resent me for it.
“Marut,” I begin quietly, “will you tell me what’s wrong?”
His grip tightens on the reins. “It’s nothing.”
Clearly. I raise one eyebrow, even though he can’t see me.
“You haven’t said a word to me since this morning,” I try again. “Not until you demanded I wrap myself up just now. If you’re angry at something I did, I would rather know. I’m sorry we didn’t get much time for ourselves, but we didn’t—”
“I’m not angry at you,” he rasps. “I am furious at myself.”
I crane my neck to see his face better, but he resolutely stares forward, so I only get his profile.
“Why would you be angry at yourself?” I prompt him when he refuses to elaborate.
The wagon trundles up the gravel road, more slowly now that we’re climbing. The horses, well-rested from our stop in the village and covered in leather blankets to keep the worst of the rain off them, huff steadily, their breaths steaming in the air.
“Marut…” I lean forward and nudge his shoulder gently. “I need to know. Please.”
He sends me a sideways glance, and I’m surprised by the intensity of it. He’s been hiding all this from me? My stomach flips uncomfortably, and a new worry pops up in my mind. What if he’s furious at himself because he made a mistake in marrying me?
“We should have remained in Ultrup,” he spits out finally. “The road at this time of year is no place for a human woman. See how I’ve treated you.”
I blink, shocked at the venom in his voice—and that it’s directed only at himself.
“We’ve had to sleep in the stables,” Marut growls, as if he needs to get this out now that he’s started. “You deserve better, Violet, and I’m so sorry for dragging you through this.”
I put my hand on his upper arm and tug his sleeve until he looks at me again. “Where is this coming from? Human women travel in all seasons, surely you know that?”
“Not if they want to stay safe,” he retorts. “Steagor’s mate, Poppy, nearly died last fall. She would have if Steagor hadn’t found her. She’d caught a cold and was so weak, she didn’t wake up for days.”
Oh my. I think on how Marut has hovered around me every time we stopped for lunch, pressing me to eat more, to have another cup of hot tea. I remember the pile of blankets he bought off a surly innkeeper for a full gold mark then used them to create a small fort for me so I wouldn’t be affected by a draft that ran through the storage room we’d slept in.
My belly tightens with another emotion altogether this time. Marut has been turning himself inside out trying to take care of me, and I’d been inwardly grumbling about the delays and worrying about my brother. A hot bolt of shame shoots through me at the realization that I’ve contributed to whatever he’s feeling right now.
I scramble over the lip of the wagon and climb onto the driver’s seat beside Marut. Before he can protest, I arrange the large, heavy blanket so it covers both our heads and huddle into his side.
“I’m not going to fall ill,” I tell him. “I don’t know what happened to Poppy, but perhaps she was already frail when Steagor found her.”
A muscle jumps in Marut’s jaw before he answers, “She walked all the way from Ultrup to the orc lands.”
“Well, that would do it,” I confirm. “Especially in bad weather. But I didn’t have to do that—because you’ve been taking care of me.” I bump my shoulder against his upper arm. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that I’m grateful for everything you did.”
“But we still could have waited,” he murmurs. He glances down at me and adds, “You could have talked to your brother, too.”
I grit my teeth at the mention of Huck. “If I wanted to, I would have asked you to delay our departure. But I wanted to leave the city as much as you did.”
Marut seems only slightly mollified, so I wiggle my way under his arm until he’s hugging my shoulders and sharing his warmth. He lets out a soft chuckle and relaxes his rigid posture around me. I cannot describe how good it feels to be this close to him—when I’m the one who chose the contact. By necessity, I’ve gotten used to his presence during the trip because I’d needed Marut’s body heat every cold night. We might not have shared any intimate moments since that morning in the tent, but I’ve grown comfortable around him in ways I never expected I could.
“Do you take trips like this often?” I ask past a suddenly tight throat. I don’t know what this transformation of mine will amount to, but I need him with me. If he likes traveling to Ultrup with Ozork and his crew, I’ll just have to get used to it and figure out a way to be more comfortable on the road.
Marut leans in, presses a kiss to the top of my head, and lets out a long breath. “Before I decided I wanted a mate, I didn’t leave the Hill for several years.” He shrugs, his broad shoulder moving beside me. “Everything I want is there. And once I get you to my rooms, we won’t be leaving for a long while either.”
I squirm in place. “We won’t?”
His gaze grows hot, and he flexes his arm ever so slightly so he squeezes me closer to his side. “My clan will want to meet you, but they will have to wait. I want you all to myself.”
Biting my lip, I think of all the things we’ll finally be able to do once we’re alone. “For how long?” I tease. “Will two days be enough? Three?”
“If it was up to me,” Marut growls, “we wouldn’t leave my bed for a week. I’d keep you busy, little bird.”
A shiver of anticipation passes through me. “You won’t have work to do?”
Marut pauses, his mouth opening, then closing again. Then he scrunches his eyes shut and lets out a low groan.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting up straight.
He shakes his head. “I just thought of taking you to work with me. The things we could do there.”
I glance to his lap and note the thick bulge of his cock straining against the laces of his pants. “Oh.”
“Aye.” Marut spreads his thighs a fraction wider. “I will show you everything.”
Just then, a cheer goes up from the wagons in the front, and a moment later, happy cries sound from deep in the fir forest surrounding us. Marut grins as he draws the wagon to a halt and ties the reins to the wagon. He jumps to the ground, sets wooden blocks under the wagon wheels to prevent it from rolling backward down the hill, then returns to me.
He offers me his hand, and I go to take it, but before I can reach it, he simply plucks me from the wagon, holding me by my waist, and sets me on the ground in front of him. Then he leans over me and kisses me deeply, his tongue slicking over my bottom lip. I gasp and open my mouth for him as heat surges through my body, but the kiss is over just as quickly as it began.
“What—?” I ask, staring up at him.
Marut turns me around, his hands on my shoulders. “We’re home.”
