I nod. “Your father?”
“Aye. He has sired multiple brats.”
“You were raised with a big family, then?”
“Nay. There is a pecking order in our clan. And my father has his favorites.”
From his tone, I’m guessing he isn’t one.
“Someday you shall have your own family, then. And you can run it how you like it.”
He looks surprised, as if the idea never occurred to him.
“You can’t turn your back on your clan,” he whispers.
“I know. We are still Blackheart, despite our family being West Mountain. But we do things differently.”
His gaze never leaves mine, and with his face softened, looking pensive, he loses the scowl he normally carries. He’s more… handsome.
“You know, your worth isn’t determined by what you don’t accomplish for your family, right? Your worth is determined by the male you are inside. The choices you make for yourself, right or wrong. Whether you learn from such choices, or whether you do them purposely without benefit for others.”
“Easy for you to say. You are cared for by your father and have the favor of everyone around you.”
“Not at all. My own clan resents that I don’t conform to our ways. That my father allows me free reign. But my chosen family? They are the West Mountain orcs. You see, my father made a choice that day when he was freed as their prisoner. He decided to make an arrangement with Joanna and in following through, he earned favor. Others did also, but that favor earned him a subsequent friendship with her. A friendship that followed when he needed help raising a daughter on his own.”
“What happened to your mother?”
I shrug. “She didn’t want to be tied down. She chose a way of life without brats. My father tried to compensate and he’s been more than enough parent.”
“The two of you are close.”
“Closer than most. I would do anything for my father, and he would do the same for me.”
There’s silence for a moment and I can see the wheels churning in his mind.
“You also have a choice, Varguk. You’re my guard. You can do it right and become friends with the clan, or you can choose the way yourbrother did. Sneak in, try to insert yourself in someone else’s place for your own benefit.”
“And if I want more?”
“What more could you want?”
His big hand brushes a wisp of curl from my face and I feel his callus rasp against my skin.
“I want to get to know you. I want a chance with you.”
It’s such an honest statement, not at all contrived, and butterflies flit around my midsection. He seems to be waiting for my response, so I nod. Just once.
I wasn’t mistaken before. His entire face lights up, and all at once, he’s the most handsome male I’ve ever seen.
My heart hammers in my chest as he looks into my eyes. His eyes are deep, dark pools of inky night sky. His lips, shaped so perfectly. High cheekbones, lean cheeks.
While a lot of males from other clans wear their hair long, braided or otherwise decorated, he breaks all the rules with his shorn style, longer on top, tressed in carefree waves.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
“’Tis not a hardship to gaze at you, orc.”
He chuckles. “’Tis not a hardship to do other things, too, Negan.”
