Page 12 of Orc's Desire

“Dil,” she whispers. “Say it. We don’t have any options. Please.”

Distantly I hear Khiara’s low rumbling growl but that comes from another world. One outside this moment of me, her, and the soft touch of skin on skin. My cock is so hard it feels as if it might explode. Or fill my pants with my sticky seed, untouched and unbidden.

I swallow. Hard. Blink, for a moment sure I am imagining all of this, that this entire evening is nothing more than a fantasy or a dream. But her hand is still there. Her skin is still on mine. Soft. Warm. Embracive.

“The resistance,” I say, but it sounds like someone else’s voice, not my own. Those words go into the other world, the one with my brother and his feelings and concerns. The one that isn’t this one, this one where it is only she and I and there are no other worries or concerns. “We could?—”

Khiara slams his fist onto the table with a resounding crash.

6

GWENETH

Khiara’s fist slams onto the table making the bottle and glasses jump even as I do too. My chair screeches as it slides back and on instinct I raise my arms protectively over my face. The meep sound that comes out of my throat is embarrassing, but his sudden outburst is not only surprising, it’s terrifying.

“Don’t even say it,” Khiara yells, standing up so fast that his chair falls over with a clatter.

One glance at Dilacs is all I need to see his rage. His lips curl back to reveal his canines, his tusks glisten, and his heavy eyes narrow even further. He clenches his hands into fists and grits his teeth, not rising to meet his brothers challenge. Khiara glares, heavily huffing, willing his brother to defy him.

“Maybe—” I start, trying to say something to defuse the situation but Dilacs cuts me off with a single glance.

Despite everything when he locks his beautiful, heavy eyes onto me a shiver runs right into my core. His eyes lashes are so long and thick that I’m jealous. It’s not fair for a guy to have such fantastic lashes.

“Khiara,” Dilacs says. “You are right to be worried?—”

“Don’t be a fool!” Khiara yells. “No. This is not a debate. We will not engage in rumors and innuendo. You know?—”

“You’re wrong, brother, and you know it,” Dilacs interrupts.

Khiara’s eyes all but bulge out of his head. His face turns a weird shade and his lips tremble with what I assume is barely contained rage. He pulls one arm back, cocking his fist and it’s clear he is about to throw it. Dilacs doesn’t move, watching and waiting. Khiara raises his arm, fist shaking, then he growls and drops the cocked fist to his side.

“Gada,” he curses, one of the few Urr’ki words I understand which roughly means shit.

He spins around, picks his chair up and slams it onto its feet. Then he goes to the cabinets and gets a towel which he uses to wipe up the spilled drinks from the table. Dilacs and I watch in silence as he cleans then puts the towel away. He takes his seat and still no one has spoken. Khiara refills the drinks and we each pick ours up.

I’m following suit because I don’t know what else to say or do. This is different than anything I’ve known with these boys. I’ve seen them fight, come to blows, be happy and making fun of each other, and everything in between. This, though, it feels different.

Khiara holds his glass out to the middle of the table. It hangs there waiting. I dart my eyes from him to Dilacs and back unsure what is happening or what I am supposed to do at this point. Dilacs moves his arm languidly, as if there isn’t really a care in the world for him, taking up his glass and raises it to his brothers. They don’t clink and drink like I’ve seen them do before. Khiara seems to be staring at the glass but Dilacs’s eyes move to me. I bite my lip, pick up my glass and mimic what I see them doing.

Khiara inhales deeply then he hums. It’s a low, thrumming melody. He begins then Dilacs adds his voice to it. Panic rises. I don’t know what they are doing or what part I am supposed to play. The brothers close their eyes as they hum. It’s a pretty tune, though I’ve never heard it before in my life.

“Until the mountain calls us home,” Khiara says, at last.

He pushes his glass forward, clinking it against Dilacs’s and mine. They both toss their drinks back and I brace myself then do the same. The burn is explosive and momentarily blinding. I gasp as my eyes water and my mouth corkscrews. The dark liquid sears my gullet and I’m pretty sure I just lost most of the tastebuds on my tongue. The burn hits bottom, raging like an inferno, then my stomach churns and it becomes a pleasing warmth that spreads out to my limbs.

When the burn eases enough for me to open my eyes the brothers are both staring at their empty glasses. The air is heavy with unspoken words and thoughts. I quietly set my glass down on the table, trying to not wince when it sounds too loud.

“All options,” Dilacs says.

Did I miss something? I watch Dilacs and then look at Khiara but no I don’t think I did. This is the way they are. A lot of times they don’t need whole thoughts spoken to understand one another.

“Yes,” Khiara agrees nodding then he looks up and his eyes lock on to mine.

My heart swells and there is an ache in my chest. I like him. I care for him. A lot. A tiny, propitiative part of me wishes I felt the same way for him that he clearly does for me, but I don’t.

I’m sorry, Khiara. Truly, I am. You are a kind, sweet, loving man. You will make some girl very, very happy, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

Which I know will hurt him. Hurt him bad and I don’t want to do that. Not in the slightest.

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