Page 46 of The Orc and the Innkeeper

There’s only one, extremely obvious explanation. Gods, I am such a fucking fool.

“It’s lovely,” I manage to choke out when I realize the silence has stretched on too long. My voice sounds foreign to my own ears.

Ygra points to the ring on my finger, the one Thorak gave me as the ring for our fake engagement.

“Oh, and look what you’re wearing! Isn’t that precious? That was my old promise ring from Thorak. It’s so cute that he gave it to you for your little fake-engagement charade!”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The color drains from my face, and I feel my hands start to shake.

Ygra beams, oblivious to my inner turmoil. She gives Snuffles’s leash a gentle tug. “Well, we best be off. It was wonderful to bump into you, Maria!”

She saunters off, Snuffles trotting happily beside her. I’m left standing alone on the sidewalk, my carefully rehearsed speech forgotten, my world tilting on its axis.

My mind races, piecing together all the little doubts and inconsistencies from the past few days—Thorak’s early morning departure, the intimate scene at the brewery between him and Ygra, his insistence that we keep our focus on faking an engagement, the gossiping witches at the cafe, and now this.

The memories combine and twist together in my head, berating me.

How could I have been so blind? So stupid?

Thorak and Ygra are clearly together. Engaged for real. I was just a pawn in their game, a means to an end.

Thorak played me.

Again.

And like a glutton for punishment, I let him.

Anger surges through me, white-hot and all-consuming. I turn on my heel and start walking, my steps quick and purposeful.

I have no idea where I’m going, but I know I can’t stay here. I need to put as much distance between myself and Thorak as possible.

I’m furious at him for his deception, for making me believe that we could have something real. But I’m even angrier at myself for letting my guard down, for allowing myself to be vulnerable.

Never again. I’ve learned my lesson, once and for all.

22

THORAK

The door creaks as I enter my stone cottage, my mind alight with thoughts of Mariah. The softness of her skin, and of her sweet lips. The way she moaned my name when I was deep inside her. I can hardly wait to get back to the inn tonight and learn every way to make her come undone beneath me.

But as I walk through my home, my fantasies slowly dissipate as I realize something’s off. It’s too quiet.

“Snuffles?” I call out. Silence. No patter of hooves, no eager snorting.

Panic rises as I rush from room to room, searching for any sign of my beloved boar. He’s nowhere to be found. I groan, a sinking sensation in my gut.

Ygra. It has to be her.

When we broke things off, we fought bitterly over custody of Snuffles. He is and was my boar, my beloved pet even before I knew Ygra, but she insisted that because of our time together Snuffles was as much hers as mine.

She must have taken him while I was at work.

Jaw clenched, I grab my phone and angrily punch in her number. She picks up on the second ring.

“Where are you and where is my boar?” I demand, not even trying to hide the snarl in my voice.

“Thorak,” Ygra says calmly. “Snuffles is with me, and he’s fine. Relax.”

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