Page 13 of Vexing the Grumpy Orc

I stood there too long, jaw clenched, before snatching it up and stepping into the gathering dusk. Time to lie to the man who taught me honor while plotting against his own clan. Who preached tradition while trying to murder his chief.

Who would disown me in a heartbeat if he knew what I’d done with a witch in the woods.

The cave mouth gaped ahead, dark against the mountainside. No smoke rose from the entrance. He’d been letting the fire die again, choosing to huddle in darkness rather than venture out for wood.

“About time.” His voice rasped from the shadows. “What news from the village?”

I set both baskets down and crouched to rebuild the fire. “Same as always.”

“Lies.” Something shifted in the darkness. “The clan doesn’t operate in a vacuum. That witch-loving cousin of yours must be planning something. Why else keep me trapped out here?”

The kindling caught. Firelight threw his gaunt features into sharp relief—deeper shadows under his eyes, more gray in his beard. He smelled strongly of alcohol. I frowned. Nice of Osen to warn about that bit of thievery.

Or maybe the full extent of destruction had yet to be uncovered.

“You’re not trapped.” I kept my voice neutral. “Butthe rangers filed another complaint. You destroyed their equipment.”

“Spies.” He snatched a fish from the basket, examining it with narrowed eyes. “Crawling all over our mountains, marking trails for the humans to invade. I did the clan a service.”

“You threatened our access to the lower trails.” I shoved the other supplies into their usual places with more force than necessary. “Osen says you need to stay in the cave until things cool down.”

The fish hit the cave wall with a wet slap. “Osen says?Osen says?”Father’s voice rose to a roar. “I was guarding these mountains while he was still suckling at his mother’s teat! He doesn’t command me!”

“He’s the chief.” I picked up the fallen fish, brushing off dirt. “And the rangers aren’t spies. They’re just doing their jobs.”

“Let them try.” He grabbed a knife, gesturing wildly. “We’ll gut them like these fish. Remind them why their ancestors feared the dark.”

Yes, and then the dryads would be gathering at the borders because a human mate was among the terrified to death. Then the shifters would enter the fray, because why the fuck not? Let’s wait till midnight and invite the bloodsuckers into our homes, too.

Any threat to one portion of Silvermist would bring out the whole fucking town with their pitchforks and torches.

“They’ll stay on their side of the wards,” I saidthrough clenched teeth. I speared one of the fish and positioned it over the flames. “And we’ll stay on ours.”

“Wards? What wards?” He lurched forward, grabbing my wrist. His fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. “What else has Osen’s witch done? What aren’t you telling me?”

I jerked free. “Border wards. Osen mentioned some foreign magic. Probably nothing.”

“Foreign magic.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “More witches? In our territory?”

I stared into the fire, watching flames lick at scales. Debated how much to reveal. How much I could hide. “Just one. Some witch gathering mushrooms for a ritual. Osen assigned me to supervise her ritual.”

“Supervise?” Father threw back his head and laughed, a harsh sound that echoed off stone walls. “Is that what they call it now? First my so-called chief lets one witch spread her legs and poison his mind, now he’s whoring you out to another?”

My fingers tightened around the cooking stick. “It’s not like that. She just wants to save her familiar.”

“Familiar?” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve spoken to this witch? Let her spin her tales?”

Spoken. Fucked. Watched her rage against that doctor who’d insulted our clan. I shoved the thoughts away. “I caught her trespassing. Warned her off.”

“Yet she’s still coming back.” He leaned in, breath sour with alcohol. “Tell me you’re finally taking proper action against these vermin. A witch trespassing onclan land deserves only one fate—walked to the nearest cliff and pushed over the edge. Then piss on whatever’s left splattered below.”

The same thought had crossed my mind that night. Before she’d looked up at me with those fierce green eyes. Before I’d felt her body yield to mine, hot and tight and perfect.

Before I’d lost control in ways that still haunted my dreams.

“It’s just mushrooms.” I turned the fish, watching skin crisp. “And she’ll be supervised.”

“By you.” He grabbed a jar of dried herbs from the supplies, squinting at the label. “My son, a Rockflaw warrior, reduced to witch-minding. I didn’t raise you to waste yourself on human trash.”

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