Page 16 of Orc's Pride
It’s not because Iwantto see his eyes darken and dart to my lips, or scoot closer to me on the bed.
“No.” I could listen to him talk for hours. There’s something about his voice, a quiet command that never leaves, even when his tone is light like it is now. “No, I’m not a spy. I’m Pitha, of the Blood Moon Clan.”
“Chieftain, you mean.”
His lips twitch. “Is it that obvious?”
It is, damn him. He wears authority like a second skin, and it fits him well. “Your clan is from here?”
Now it’s his turn to be evasive. It makes sense, if he thinks I’m a spy. He shifts back on the bed, body angled away from mine.
“We’re tracking the dark elves.”
Nowthatis something Malik would want to know about. I keep my voice casual. “And did you catch them?”
He shrugs. “Does it matter? There’s nothing you can do to help them now.”
His one-track mind is becoming exasperating. The flaps of his tent blow open for a moment in the breeze, and I see his men lurking behind him for a moment before they flutter back closed. Are they seriously guarding him? What do they think I could do to him, honestly?
It’s almost flattering. I wish I were as good a spy as they apparently think I am. I wouldn’t be sulking on some orc’s bed, that’s for damned sure.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” I fidget with my scarf, twisting around my agitated fingers. Just when I thought I was making some sort of progress with him. “I’m not a spy. The last thing I want to do is help any dark elf. Ever.”
“See, that last part I almost believe.” Pitha leans back, eyes dancing. It’s like he enjoys this. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. But you’re hiding something. I can tell.”
“I’m—”
His eyes flash. “Don’t insult me. I don’t give up, and I’m not a fool.”
There’s something kinetic in his voice that holds my tongue. Something fraught. It makes my heartbeat kick up. I can feel it in my throat, pulsing away so hard it’s a wonder my scarf doesn’t move in time.
Whatever fear I’d had of him when he brought me to his bed isn’t gone, necessarily. I’m very afraid—but more of myself. Of how I’m reacting to him. I’ve flirted before, in order to get information or make myself seem less threatening. But that was all pretend.
I’ve never reacted like this before. He clouds my judgment. I should be analyzing his words, or looking for a way to escape with provisions. Not…gazing into his eyes like some lovesick teenager.
“I don’t think you’re a fool,” I concede. “But I’m really not a spy.”
Pitha leans back. His eyes trail down my body, from my head to my crossed feet, and then back up. He’s done nothing, but for some reason just the track of his eyes makes me blush. It makes me very aware that we’re alone on his bed.
“I believe you.” He holds up a hand before I can say anything else. “I believe you hate the dark elves, at least. Not that you don’t have secrets. I don’t think you’re spying for the elves, but everyone else does. My word is strong, but not strong enough to persuade them without any evidence. Being a Chieftain is a contract of sorts. I’d be challenged if I pushed this.”
He believes me.
I don’t know why that makes me feel so warm.
“And would you win?” I ask. “If you were challenged?”
Orcs are generally simple creatures. Ego-filled and violent. I expect him to brag about his prowess, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.
“That’s not the point,” he says instead. “It isn’t the place of a Chieftain to ask his people to do something outrageous.”
“But I bet you’re very persuasive.” Is that my voice, dropping so low?
His eyes darken.
Dangerous.
The air between us grows thick, and for a second, I think he’s going to give in. I can see his chest rise and fall quickly and the way his hand twists in his fur blanket. The green of his knuckles are pale, he’s clutching it so tightly.