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cryptically.

โ€œWe did not ask to be in your fucking life,โ€ Caden snaps back. โ€œWe would gladly part ways and never see you again. And who the fuck are you anyway? How do you know Orc lords? What does his brother want with you? Happen we should kill you now before you spill our Kingโ€™s secrets to our enemy.โ€

โ€œTry it, lad,โ€ Raglan bites back. โ€œAnd you will see how you fare.โ€

Caden doesnโ€™t argue, although he glares at the shifter, and the shifter glares back. He doesnโ€™t like Raglan well; I donโ€™t like him well either. We have not spoken about it, but we all understand he is her fourth mate.

And we all understand that he is undoubtedly higher than us, maybe higher than Hawthorn, although it gives me more pain to admit this than my battered body does.

โ€œWe need to bide our time,โ€ Raglan says, meeting Cadenโ€™s glare. โ€œI did not lie to the lass when I said Edil will not hurt her. I like this no better than you, but this is not the time to be reckless. Iโ€™ve come to know many people in my duties for the King . . . before I betrayed him. Wars are won as often by diplomacy as they are by battle, and there was a time when Davide considered them potential allies. Gan is a bloodthirsty bastard. Iโ€™ve seen Edil with a dagger in her hand ripping the heart from the chest of a lower-ranking Orc who displeased her. She has warped notions of compassion. There was a chance they might have become the allies the King seeks, but for Ganโ€™s older brother, who assumed the rule of the clan upon their fatherโ€™s death. It is a tangled web, and one I wish the King had never entered, for all I understand his reasons for trying.โ€

My body aches, consuming most of my thoughts, yet I can sense the importance of this conversation.

โ€œAnd what is your history with Orcs?โ€ Raglan asks. โ€œNeither of you has presented as stupid, excepting perhaps your arrival on the ship. Yet the pair of you looked ready to be very stupid on seeing the Orcs. The only time I see looks like that on menโ€™s faces is when tragedies are involved.โ€

โ€œIt is nothing,โ€ Caden says.

โ€œThey killed our father,โ€ I say.

Caden throws a look my way that promises pain were I not already beaten bloody.

My return glare is mutinous. Caden does not like to talk about it, but we are in this with Raglan, for better or worse. โ€œThey killed our father when I was nine and Caden ten. Three big bastards raided our home and murdered our father in cold blood.โ€ I see Cadenโ€™s lips quivering and the anger glittering in his eyes. Maybe the beating has befuddled me? I only know that the connection I sense growing with Raglan will be better forged by truths. The shifter is hiding things. Building bridges requires someone to lay the first stone. โ€œTheyโ€™d have killed all of us if not for Caden. Three full-grown Orcs with nothing but a smithโ€™s hammer. My mother was pregnant with our younger sister.โ€ My voice breaks a little, and tears sting the cut upon my cheekbone.

โ€œAye, lads, itโ€™s a tragic story for sure,โ€ Raglan says simply. He neither offers praise nor belittles the claim with dispute. I think his quiet acceptance of the story as fact calms some of Cadenโ€™s rage.

โ€œWe traveled all the way from the borders to the Wittner estate,โ€ I continue, for the tale is yet half done. โ€œIt was our last hope for winter was approaching, we were close to starving, and our mother was almost due. I can remember the day we arrived as if it were yesterday. Priya stood with her father, the late lord, in the courtyard. It was Priya the lord turned to, and whose words accepted us into the estate, for as we would learn later, the lord rarely accepted beggars in. Today is not only about Orcs, but itโ€™s also about a young lass, who by the Goddessโ€™s blessing, went on to become our mate. You ask if we are stupid over her, and the truth is we are. She gave us a life when everyone turned us away. There is no monster nor situation we would not face into for her.โ€

It is the first stone.

โ€œIs the Orc lord right?โ€ I ask. โ€œWould the King have pardoned you had you not been taken by the Blighten?โ€

โ€œAye,โ€ Raglan says, staring without enthusiasm at the strip of jerky in his hand. โ€œI suspect he might have.โ€

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Priya

DAYS PASS ON the ship, and I see nothing of my mates. But every morning, we seclude ourselves in the cabin as raucous entertainment takes place on the main deck.

And every time we venture out again, a hand is busy dousing the spilled blood away.

My nerves are permanently stretched tight. The brusque male Orc is rarely around, and when he is, he converses with his mate in Orcish rather than the first tongue. He pays us โ€˜petsโ€™ little heed, and Iโ€™m grateful for that. The stately Orcs dine together every evening at the table while the little shifter and I sit eating on the floor.

At night I sleep beside the young mute shifter. When the lights are turned out when she slips closer and curls up in my arms. I donโ€™t sleep much, but I take comfort from the tiny girl who comes to me, and I offer as much as I can in return.

On the seventh day, we leave the room as usual once the sounds have quieted. Only this time, the evidence of what has happened is not entirely hidden. This time, the great brute of an Alpha bearing the Orcโ€™s collar is being hoisted lifeless from the floor. On the far side, near the narrow stairs leading to the holding pen, I see Brook being braced by Caden and Raglan.

They freeze as they see

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