“Attaki fusha.”
When Paloma doesn’t translate—she’s rather busy pushing—Ossa holds up a towel. She needs more.
I duck into the tunnel, closing the door behind me, and brush by Verig and Atox, whose eyes focus solely on his newborn. When I see how Atox is looking at her, I suddenly envision Verig holding a child—our child. Oh, god, what is wrong with me?
I brush by both orcs and head to the nearest storage chamber to grab a pile of towels. When I pass by the orcs again as I enter Paloma’s chamber, I hear Verig say, in Common, “There is more to a person than her appearance.”
I shut the door and lean against it, trying to calm my emotions.
Verig meant for me to hear him. But I’m not sure if he’s saying he sees something in me beyond my looks or wishes I’d see something in him.
Fucking orc. There’s a lot of goodness in him. And some negatives, too. I see it. All of it. Especially how he wants me to forget and give up on my son.
When I set the towels down, Ossa nods toward the door. “Daughter.”
Instructions to retrieve the baby? I’m not sure why, but okay. She’s in charge. And she’s got her hands full, literally, helpingguide the second baby out. Either way, it’s not the time to ask questions, but to follow orders.
Didn’t Verig say something similar to me once?
Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about him.
I open the door a crack to maintain Paloma’s privacy, considering it’s more than her mate out here. I lean my head to check on who’s in the corridor. Atox hasn’t left with the baby.
“I should remove the door from the hinges,” Atox says in Common, annoyance on his face as he holds the baby in his arms. “The hinges won’t last at the rate these females are coming and going.”
So fucking judgmental, these orcs.
I lift my chin to get his attention.
“You. Big guy. Give me the baby.”
“This is my daughter.”
“Yeah, I figured that out.” I enter the corridor, glare at Verig, wondering why I even like him…because I do. “She’s my charge until Ossa says otherwise.”
“But I’m grak.”
“So?” I slide the baby from the king’s arms. She’s half naked as he’s undone the swaddling, probably to count fingers and toes. I hold her against my chest as I re-wrap the furs around her. These tunnels are cold and drafty. Sometimes I don’t understand men. They’re an entire species unto themselves. Orc, human, vint…it doesn’t matter. They can plan a complicated siege on the enemy, but they can’t figure out how to wrap a baby in a blanket.
“Explain to her what a grak is,” Atox orders Verig, who merely looks at me and raises a brow. I can see it in his face. He’s laughing inside, though I’m not sure why.
“I know who you are,” I snap at Atox. If he’s expecting me to kowtow to him because he’s in charge of this colony, forget it. Especially since he’s the guy responsible for keeping me from my son. Here I’ve been venting my anger at Verig, but Verig doesn’t make the rules.
“You’re the king. And he’s your second.” I struggle to hold back my tears. Holding this little one is bringing back so many memories of Ethan, making me miss him all the more. My arms have never been so full of something so precious and yet empty at the same time because this baby isn’t my Ethan.
“Shouldn’t you be out gutting or torturing someone?” I snap at Verig before I spin on my heels, step back inside Paloma’s chambers, and slam the door closed behind me without waiting to hear his reply.
I don’t want an answer. I want my son.
He could convince their king if he wanted to.
The door rattles as someone pounds on it.
“Your grak wishes to see his female and his youngling,” Verig’s voice travels through the wood.
Of course, it’s him, eager to connect a parent and child, just not me and mine.
With the first baby in my arms, I stand in the corner, out of Ossa’s way as she delivers the second baby. Paloma screams with what I’m hoping is her last push because she’s got to be exhausted after eight hours of labor.
