The baby slides right out. Slippery little thing. A boy! And as cute as his sister. Ossa quickly bundles him in a towel and leans over Paloma, handing her the second baby when the door crashes open and bounces off the stone wall.
Atox charges in. These orcs do nothing half-heartedly.
“Are you well, mate?” he asks in a gentle voice I’ve never heard from him. Genuine concern for her. I relax a little, seeing that he really does love her. He bends over and kisses her forehead.
“Exhausted,” she answers. Of course, she is. The hard part is over! Sweat coats her face, but she’s all smiles as she peels back the fur blanket to show off their son. “Isn’t he gorgeous, Atox?”
“He?” Atox asks as he turns to me with a scowl on his face, as if I did something wrong. Then he looks from Paloma to Ossa. “Two?”
“A girl and a boy!” Paloma says. “That’s why I was so big.”
Atox and Ossa speak in Orcan, and this is where I get lost. First, she pats her brother’s chest and flashes enough tusk that I’ve come to realize is an orcan smile, as if she’s congratulating him, but then she punches him in the stomach.
Now Paloma and Atox exchange words, confusion on her face as Ossa leaves.
My eyes seek out Verig for an explanation, but he’s not here.
That’s when I realize I miss his presence. That’s the truly baffling part of this entire night.
“You’re upset, Atox,” Paloma says. “Is this because you didn’t want a boy?”
As the new parents fawn over their son, seemingly forgetting I’m still holding their daughter, Verig finally enters the room. He looks unsettled, though I’m not sure why. They’re orcs. They’ve seen—hell, they’ve caused—their share of bloodshed, and Ossa cleaned up all the messy stuff.
Paloma kisses her son’s cheek. “Babies are born with all the goodness and potential in the universe. As long as they are raised with love and have good role models, they will be fine.”
I look at Verig, wondering what he’d be like as a dad. He’s standing in the opposite corner of the chamber, staring at me. I’ve gotten used to his watching me. It no longer unnerves me. In fact, the way he looks at me sends a pleasant shiver through me. Until his eyes land on the sweet bundle in my arms.
He has no clue what raising a kid is like, how the parent is the kid’s entire world. How, when a child’s mom disappears without saying goodbye, it can destroy them on the inside.
“This is why you need a mate of your own, Verig,” Atox says. “They offer a wisdom we do not have. Now, take the other female from here. I wish to be with my mate and our younglings. Alone.”
I’m caving under the pressure of Verig’s gaze. A part of me wants to give in to him, to say ‘yes, I’ll perform this rishaceremony with you’, but I can’t. I shift my gaze to Paloma. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“Just a few minutes of privacy, I think, Tansey, if you don’t mind. You can wait in the tunnels with Verig.”
Verig and me… Alone. Without anyone else nearby.
Blood rushes from my face. He’s going to say I belong to him, that I need to bond him, that I should forget about Ethan.
“Yes, Graka.” I use her title for the first time. I’m not sure why, but it seems proper. God help me, am I assimilating into their culture?
I hand the little girl to Atox, nod at the new parents, and rush out before Verig can catch up with me. In fact, I slam the door behind me, putting him on notice that I don’t want to deal with him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
VERIG
Atox has two younglings, with one birth. This is unheard of among orcs. But our graka does not seem upset. She’s excited. Twins, she called them.
When a warrior cannot tell two knives apart based on the inherent flaws in the metal or smithing process, we call the blades twins. But younglings? This is not a concept we know.
The smell of a newborn throws me back to the day Haaka birthed our daughter. I’d never been so proud or happy as in that moment. Veeya had her mother’s light green eyes and two tiny tusks. Early for a youngling.
“Verig, you may leave now,” Atox says, his brow raised as if he’s questioning why I’m still here.
I leave their chamber only to see Tansey waiting in the tunnel, her arms crossed over her breasts. She slammed the door earlier, making it clear she’s still mad at me.
“I do not wish to forget,” I say to her.
