I wake feeling warm and well rested, and it takes me a moment to realize that the source of warmth is my mate, curled protectively around me. I can’t tell yet if he’s awake or not, so I lie motionless, not wanting to disturb him. He likely needed this rest as much as I did, judging by his appearance last night.
“Good morning,” he rumbles, his breath fanning the fine hairs on my neck.
I bite my lip, then roll in place to face him. “Hello.”
He brings his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. “I missed this.”
My heart squeezes painfully, and I bring my palm to his stubbled cheek. “Me, too.”
He didn’t set everything right last night by clearing what I’d thought was my debt, but he tried to help me in his own way. And I can’t stay angry with him. I love him, and that might make me stupid and vulnerable, but I don’t want our lives to continue like we’ve been living them for the past week.
Gorvor turns his face into my touch and kisses my palm. I suppress a shiver that runs through my body, but he must feel it regardless, because he fixes me with a hot stare. I widen my eyes, caught in his attention like a startled hare.
If he kisses me right now, I’ll kiss him back. I’ve missed him so much—not only his body but the time we spent together, the two of us, enjoying our bond.
But Gorvor shakes himself, utters a foul curse under his breath, and throws off the covers, hopping to his feet. His speed and agility still surprise me, because he shouldn’t be this quick with that massive body of his. I should have learned by now not to judge orcs by human standards, though.
“Come,” he says. “We must wash, and then I want to show you something.”
He tugs me toward the bathing pool, turns me away from him, and helps me out of my wrinkled dress with efficient tugs. I strip naked, no longer self-conscious around him, and slip into the water, scrubbing myself quickly.
Gorvor stands at the edge of the pool for a long moment, glowering at me, then shoves down his leather pants and kicks them into a corner. My mouth waters at the sight of him, erect and thick, but he seems to be ignoring his…situation, so I do my best to imitate him. Still, I can’t help but remember how good he feels when he sinks inside me, and I squeeze my legs together to keep my arousal in check.
Gorvor’s nostrils flare, and he sends me a frustrated look. “Stop that. We have somewhere to be.”
In spite of everything that happened between us, I can’t stifle a giggle. He’s clearly lusting after me as much as I am for him, and I don’t need inhumanly good senses to see it. He groans as he washes himself. I can only imagine how it must feel to drag his palm over his hard cock but not finish the job.
But when he motions at me to climb out of the pool, I obey him, drying myself quickly. He does the same, then helps me with a fresh dress, doing up my laces.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he throws open the door.
“You’ll see.”
Gorvor faces Vark and Steagor, stationed by the door. They’re talking to that scout, Bogur, and he sketches a little bow toward the king, then leaves, as if he wants to give us privacy.
“You can take the morning off,” Gorvor tells the guards. “I will be escorting Dawn.”
Vark straightens his shoulders. “Do you think that’s wise? The Boar Clan—”
“Won’t follow us where we’re going,” the king interrupts. “Please.”
The guards exchange a glance, then disappear into the darkness of the corridor. I lift my eyebrows at Gorvor, but he shakes his head, still not telling me anything.
“Take your lantern,” he instructs. “You’ll need it where we’re going.”
More intrigued than ever, I check the oil in the lantern, light the wick, and follow him through the maze of tunnels. After a long, meandering corridor with many closed doors and branching pathways, we leave behind the earthen tunnels and enter a part of the Hill I’ve never been to before. It’s hewn from rock and must have been the work of many generations working tirelessly to create it.
I glance at Gorvor’s back in front of me, wondering if it was his ancestors who dug out this place. He has never mentioned his family, and I haven’t pried—but now that feels like a mistake on my part. He’s my mate, yet I don’t know anything beyond his father’s name, and that only because Gorvor had introduced himself to me as ‘son of Trak.’
Finally, we reach a steep staircase and climb in a dizzying spiral. My lantern is the only thing that lights the way, and after a while, I get the impression we’re stuck on an endless staircase and the world around us has disappeared, leaving us stranded here forever.
But at last, the light falls on a landing, and after another short flight of stairs, we end up in a narrow corridor with a single wooden door at the end. It’s lower than the other doorways in the Hill, more human-sized than most. Gorvor produces a black iron key from his weapons belt and unlocks the bolt. Then he stands aside and motions for me to enter.
I push the door open and step over the threshold. The room beyond isn’t large, but it’s well furnished and cozy, with fur rugs lining the stone floor and a small fireplace that now stands cold but would light up the place and warm it. A trickle of water has me looking to my left, and I follow it to find a bathing area with water running from a stone spout into a trough-like sink. But when I put my hand under the stream, expecting the warmth of the thermal water, I shiver—it’s icy-cold and clear.
Leaning in, I cup the water in my hands and take a sip. It’s clean, almost sweet-tasting, and reminds me of the water the kitchen staff have funneled through pipes to fill pots and scrub the heavy pans.
“This is where my mother used to live,” Gorvor says quietly.
I straighten and face him. He stands in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips, and surveys the space with an almost melancholic gaze. Then he strides to a wall tapestry depicting a hunting scene, jerks it aside, and reveals window shutters, twin oakwood panes closing in a large window. After some fumbling and a big creak, Gorvor throws them open, and golden sunlight floods inside.
I gasp, moving forward before I realize what I’m doing. “Oh! This is…”
My words stall in my throat as I take in the scene before me. Through the tunnels inside the Hill, we must have ascended some sort of cliff, because below us, a wall of sheer rock falls toward the forest canopy, which is stretched out like a dark-green carpet. I crane my neck to look up and find more gray rock, so steep it would be impossible to climb.
“When we moved into the Hill, it took us a long time to discover all the hidden nooks,” Gorvor says. “We don’t know who delved as high or as deep as these places go. Orcs usually live underground, but this was beyond anything we’d ever seen. The whole settlement was abandoned, and we worked hard to make it habitable over the years.”
Pride shines through his words. I can imagine them arriving in this place for the first time, finding the great hall, the chambers, the thermal springs. I take his hand and squeeze his fingers, acknowledging his words but allowing him to continue.
“My mother was…unhappy that she was stuck underground.” His smile is rueful and more than a little sad now. “She was human, like you.”
“What? But you’re so…” I motion with my hand to encompass everything about him. “You’re such an orc.”
He huffs out a laugh. “That’s how it works with orcs and humans. We don’t have as many children as humans do, but whenever we mate with them, our offspring take after us.”
He pauses and gives me a meaningful look. And I get it. If we had children, I would bear him orc sons or daughters. A few weeks ago, that thought would have terrified me. But now… I’ve seen happy orc families with pudgy, green-skinned orc babies, and I want one of my own.
I smile up at Gorvor and give his hand another squeeze. “All right, so your mother was human.”
He leads me over to the bed and motions for me to sit, then sinks onto the edge beside me. “Aye. But my father was an orc.” He makes an impatient sound in his throat. “Obviously. I’m making a mess out of this.”
I put my hand on his leather-clad knee. “It’s fine. Just take it slowly.”
I’m not sure why he brought me here, but he’s opening up to me, so I won’t do anything to discourage him.
He covers my hand with his and lets out a deep sigh. “My father is the king of the Boar Clan.”
His words are laced with so much venom, I flinch involuntarily. “Really?”
“My mother was his—” He stops himself and lowers his head, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
And suddenly, everything becomes clear. The wild, expensive purchases at the auction house. His reaction when I accused him of selling the humans for profit.
“She was his slave?” I venture softly.
He dips his head in a nod. “She was only twenty-two when he bought her. That they were mates is clear because I was the product of their bond, but he was never good to her. Never gentle. She was…”
He trails off again, and his throat bobs as he swallows. My stomach threatens to revolt, because I can only imagine what a rude, violent orc can do to a young woman. When Gorvor and I first joined together in bed, it was a long night before we both found pleasure. What would have happened if Gorvor hadn’t been so gentle and patient with me? And I with him?
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say. “I’m here if you do, but I understand enough. There’s no need to put it into words if you don’t want to.”
He sends me a grateful look, and his grip on me tightens. “She never spoke about it with me. And she did try to shield me from the worst of his violence.”
He rubs his hand over his scarred chest, and now I see the many silvery scars in a new light. Gorvor grew up to be a great warrior, but as a child, he’d been vulnerable.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “That must have been horrible.”
He lifts one shoulder in a gesture that should portray indifference, but he doesn’t quite get away with it. “She stopped speaking to me when I was about twelve. I think I reminded her too much of my father.”
I press my lips together because I don’t want to cry. I feel for the young orc who must have been so confused by his mother’s refusal, and yet I cannot find it in me to hate the poor woman who’d had no choice in her life.
Gorvor clears his throat, his gaze on his lap. “Charan of Boar Clan, the male you heard speak at our mating celebration. He is my younger brother.”
“By the same mother?” I blurt out, then cover my mouth with my hand. “Of course he is. Only mates can produce offspring.”
Gorvor nods. “My father’s kingdom is large. He is a powerful ruler and he leads many orcs. He has waged wars with other orc kingdoms and taken over their lands, one by one. I was his heir.”
He absentmindedly rubs his thumb over my wrist, and I feel every callous on his work-roughened palm.
“A little over a decade ago, I gathered around me a following of orcs who didn’t want to go on serving him,” he continues. “The wars took a toll on the clan. We were strong and wealthy, but at what cost? So many males lost at the front. So many children left fatherless. But the king wouldn’t stop.”
I notice that he calls him the king, not his father. I don’t think he’s aware of the distinction, but it’s an important one.
“So you left?” I ask.
“That would have been too easy.” He scoffs. “I fought him. To the death, he’d said. But after I bested him, my mother asked me to let him live. He was her mate. She hated him, but she couldn’t let him die.”
Gorvor scrubs a hand over his face, and I can almost taste his pain. Maybe it’s the bond growing stronger between us or plain sympathy, but my heart hurts for him just the same. I try to imagine a younger version of him, standing up to his tormentor.
“I let him live,” he goes on. “And I thought he would be grateful I didn’t kill him and take over the Boar Clan. That’s what he would have done. He saw my mercy as weakness. But we wanted nothing to do with the lands he’d bought with the blood of our people. The kingdom had grown too large and unwieldy to manage. So we offered everyone who wanted to leave a fresh start. And we left.”
“Your mother,” I say. “She went with you, then?”
Gorvor grimaces. “She did. But she wasn’t herself. And she didn’t live long after she separated herself from my father.”
That must have been horrible to watch, his mother wasting away because she left her own abuser.
“And you found this place by chance?” I don’t want to dig into his pain, but I still have questions about his life.
He shakes his head. “No, Ozork found it when he’d been scouting past the human lands. The Boar Clan’s territory and ours is separated by a strip of human-controlled ground. The city of Ultrup is a part of it, and humans would marshal all their forces if an orc army ever stepped foot over the border. That’s what’s been keeping my father from following us and killing us all.”
It’s a chilling statement. Knowing that only the relative might of the human empire stands between us and a marauding orc army does nothing to calm my nerves.
“So why do you allow Charan and his warriors to stay here?” I demand. “They have been causing trouble for everyone.”
A muscle ticks in Gorvor’s jaw. “He is my brother. He arrived here mere days before you and claimed our father was ailing. I remain heir apparent. If he dies, his kingdom would fall under my rule. Charan wants it for himself, of course. He remained behind when I left and took the brunt of our father’s anger and violence in my stead.”
I wince, imagining what that must have been like. “But you still don’t want that kingdom?”
“No. We have everything we need here. Our trade routes are established and our relationship with the current lord of Ultrup is improving.” He gives me a small smile and nudges me gently with his elbow. “We’re a long way from outlawing slavery, but we do what we can.”
I remember the day I first met Mara. She’d told me about the king’s attempts to stop the abominable practice of snatching humans who had no one to protect them. Humans like me. Tears gather in my eyes, and I lean my forehead against his chest. “I’m sorry I thought you were trading people.”
He brings his arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side. “You had no way of knowing. Your reasoning was sound, Dawn.”
“Still, I almost caused an irreparable rift between us.” I peer up at him. “I could have ruined this.”
He frowns. “I never would have given up on you. You are my mate.”
I go on my knees beside him. “And you are mine.”
His dark eyes heat with passion, and we tear at each other’s clothes in a race to see how fast he can get inside me. He pulls me in his lap like that very first time and guides me down over his cock, but now, I know what to do.
I ride him hard until bright sparks explode behind my eyes and I shatter in a climax so beautiful, my panting breaths turn into sobs. Gorvor’s knot slides into my pussy, and he comes, roaring his release as liquid heat bursts in me.
We remain locked together, bringing each other more pleasure, and Gorvor wipes my face with his hands. My tears still seem to confuse him, but he no longer forbids me from crying. I cuddle on his chest, and he hugs me close, keeping me safe.
“This is your room now,” he says, his warm breath brushing over my ear.
I stiffen, still attached to him. “You mean—you don’t want me to stay with you any longer?”
I’d thought we’d just reconnected. Now he’s telling me to move all the way up here?
“No.” He grasps my shoulders and pushes me back slightly to look me in the eyes. “You sleep in my bed. Every night. But if you need…a little time for yourself. Or if you want an office? You can do it here.”
“Oh!” I look around the space with new eyes, thinking of how I could make it mine. “Thank you.”
He drops his forehead to touch mine. “I would have you by my side always, little mate. But that would be too dangerous for you. So this…” He indicates the open window and the sunshine streaming in. “This is a compromise. For now. Until we can get rid of the Boar Clan and resume our normal life. Will that work for you?”
I nod eagerly. I’m already imagining flowerpots by the window, with herbs growing throughout the spring and summer months. And in the winter, I could come up here to curl up by the fire and read, or maybe knit.
“Your guards will bring you here whenever you want,” he adds. “You will be safe here.”
I gasp as the knot dislodges from me, and we move to the stream of water to clean up. I watch Gorvor tie the laces on his leather pants and I bite my lip, already hungry for more.
“Will you join me here?” I ask. “When you can, I mean. It can be…our hideaway.”
He brushes my hair back from my face. “I would like that very much.”
The warm glow in my chest expands, pulsing brightly. It’s the mate bond, healthy and thriving again. The sex helped with it, of course, but it’s more than that. Gorvor has shown me trust, and that’s what has me grinning broadly at him. I cannot imagine what his life must have been like before he and his new clan left the old orc kingdom, but I’m so happy he did.
Now I also understand what Steagor tried to tell me—Gorvor saved them all by moving into this territory, and it’s no wonder they’re devoted to him. He gave them a new life, a new chance at happiness.
And he has done the same for me.
I take his hand and squeeze his fingers. “I love you.”
He stops, his entire body freezing in place. Only his dark gaze darts over my face, as if he’s trying to determine whether I’m telling the truth.
So I step closer and lift my other hand to his cheek. “I love you,” I repeat.
He releases a pent-up breath and leans down to kiss me. His tongue strokes deep, masterfully fanning the embers of passion still smoldering inside me.
But after a moment, he tears himself away. “I would stay here with you all day and fuck you until neither of us could walk, but I wanted to show you something else,” he growls. “And I love you, too, Dawn. Never doubt that.”
I flush in delight, warmth rushing to my cheeks. “I thought you only wanted me because of the mate bond.”
He shakes his head, and his black braid falls over his shoulder. “That was just the fertile ground, ready for our love to grow on. Being someone’s mate doesn’t guarantee a happy union.”
Knowing he must be thinking about his parents, I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight. “Then I’m happy we found each other.”
He embraces me, then tugs my hand lightly to get me going. He supports me on our way down the winding staircase and holds my lantern for me as we walk through the warren of hallways. We surprise a couple in a darkened alcove, the male fucking his partner against the wall, but they don’t seem to mind, their moans of pleasure growing louder and louder.
I stifle a giggle with my hand, and Gorvor pulls me on, chuckling darkly.
“Do you like the idea of getting caught, Dawn?” he murmurs in my ear.
A shiver runs through me at the thought.
“No?” I reply, but I sound uncertain enough that I don’t even fool myself.
“Hmm.” He runs his hand down my back to my ass. “We’ll see if we can explore that sometime. But first…”
He motions forward, and I realize a glow is coming from behind the bend in the tunnel. The light from my lantern slowly merges with the pool of flickering torchlight, and in another couple of steps, four orcs come into view.
They’re standing in front of a heavy iron portcullis, the black bars as thick as my forearm. They stand relaxed, conversing with each other, but at our approach, they straighten and hail their king.
“Dawn, you already know Bogur,” Gorvor says, indicating the scout.
I knew that the orcs often changed positions inside the Hill, moving from guard duty to hunting party and back, but I’ve been seeing Bogur a lot lately. He must be one of Gorvor’s best clan members, given how much work he does. For a moment, his cool gaze seems almost unfriendly, but he smiles and nods at me, and I shake off the strange feeling.
“And these are Uram, Korr, and Shanir,” my mate goes on. “Warriors, this is Dawn, my mate.”
They all bow in unison, and the one called Korr steps forward, placing his hand on his heart. “Welcome, my queen.”
I raise my lantern a little higher, illuminating his serious face. “Oh, I remember you. I saw you trying to beg more honey cakes from the cook.”
The males laugh, their voices echoing in the corridor.
“And you never shared with us?” Uram taunts his friend.
I lift my hand in a placating gesture. “I said he tried to get the cakes, not that he succeeded.”
Gorvor snorts and slings his arm around my shoulders once more. “I have brought Dawn here to show her the Heart of the Hill. The gate, warriors.”
Gorvor’s solemn words have me itching with curiosity. Whatever lies beyond this gate must be important. The four guards and the heavy iron bars must mean that whatever is in here is either dangerous or valuable—or both.
The orcs take up their places at the large levers on either side of the gate. They strain to turn the wheels, pulling on them with all their might, and the portcullis shudders, lifting an inch. Then Gorvor steps forward and fits a huge iron key into a lock in the middle of the gate, turning it twice. Only then do the bars slide up and into the ceiling of the tunnel.
Four guards are stationed here, yet five males are needed to open it—and only Gorvor has the key. The added layer of protection surprises me. What could possibly be so important that even the guards don’t have free access to it?
Gorvor takes my hand, and we slip past the guards before the portcullis is raised entirely. I duck my head and wave goodbye to the warriors, who look grateful that they don’t have to raise the massive gate all the way. They strain to lower it slowly, and it settles back in place with a series of loud metallic clangs.
“We will be leaving through the other door,” Gorvor informs the guards and twists the key in the lock from the inside.
In the distance, I can just make out the end of the corridor, where it must open into a room of some sort, but I can’t see what it is all the way from here. This likely means the portcullis was put in this place for a reason, too—to prevent anyone from spying on whatever is going on inside.
Apprehension rises inside me as we start down that last hallway. Tales of dragons and their mountain hoards come to mind, stories I’d listened to throughout my life, first from my grandmother before she passed away, then from traveling bards in the taverns I worked at.
But the scene that greets me at the end of the tunnel brings all those tales to shame.
We enter a cavern that’s too large to have been made by human—or orc—hands. It’s a natural formation, with big stalactites hanging from the ceiling and water dripping everywhere. And through it all, a massive gold vein several feet wide runs from ceiling to floor, bisecting the cave. In the torchlight, it glimmers yellow, a rich, buttery tone I’ve so rarely seen up close. Several orcs work on extracting the ore from the surrounding rock, the sound of their hammers and chisels ringing through the space.
The Heart of the Hill.
“We found it a year after we moved into the Hill,” Gorvor says quietly from behind me. “A group of young orcs was exploring the unused tunnels, and they discovered this. There are two tunnels leading up to it—the one we came through and another that starts near the school.”
I tear my gaze away from the miners and turn to him. “It was just here? Abandoned?”
He dips his chin down in a nod. “Whoever dug up this place must have found the vein. And maybe that was their downfall. Maybe they fought over it. In any case, it was forgotten.”
Unable to stop myself, I glance back at the gold embedded in the wall, the ceiling, the floor. “And it won’t run out?”
Gorvor lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “We’ve been digging it up for years. There’s no sign that we’re depleting the source. We’ve barely made a dent. And we only dig up as much as we need—because there are things more important than gold in this Hill.”
That stops me from ogling all the riches surrounding us. “You mean your clan?”
He lets out a long breath. “They left the only life they knew to follow me here. I have to think of them first. We’re a simple people. We were so content even before we found this. So now, I don’t want to break that—or give anyone from the outside cause to attack us because of it.”
“Oh,” I gasp. “Is that why Charan is here?”
“We hope not,” Gorvor says, grimacing. “But spending money on slaves and supporting the humans’ efforts to end slavery has not gone unnoticed. Like you, others have begun to wonder how we can afford it.”
“And if the Boar Clan learned about this place…?”
Gorvor looks down at me, his expression grim. “Then nothing would stop my father from crossing the human lands and attacking us. He would deem the loss of orc and human lives a good trade for the wealth he would own if he won the battle.”
I glance back at the gold. With it, they could buy the entire city of Ultrup, not only the slaves at the auction. A question springs to mind, and I answer it on my own, already knowing what Gorvor will say, but I have to voice it anyway.
“Is this why you don’t buy all the slaves at the barracks?” I ask. “Because you can’t be seen throwing around that much coin?”
Gorvor’s face grows sad. “Every time my warriors go to the auction, they are faced with the ugly task of only picking slaves who need to be rescued right then. Children. Young people who would be sold to brothels or worse.” He lets out a tired sigh. “If I could, I would save them all. But then others would come and attack us, and we would not be able to protect the ones we have already saved—or our own clan.”
It’s an impossible conundrum, and I see the strain it causes him. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head on his chest.
“You will succeed,” I murmur. “I know it. You are the best male I’ve ever met.”
