Page 5 of The Orc's Stolen Shepherdess

I nodded. The oddity of having two leaders wasn’t lost on me, but if Brovdir didn’t mind sharing his power, then who was I to care? “You going to live in it with that baker you like?”

Brovdir’s face went instantly flat, and I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up. “No.”

“Have you. . . seen her at all?” I broached tentatively.

“No,” he said. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Since he’d made the decision to put aside the woman he fancied to tend to his new duties as chief, Brovdir had refused to speak of her.

But I knew from the way he brooded that he still thought of her. Often.

“You want it, Caivid?”

It took me a moment to realize what he’d asked. “Want what? The house? What would I do with it?”

“Live.”

I snorted with laughter. “You know what I mean, Brov. I’ve never lived in anything but leather. Not sure what walls would do for me that my own skin couldn’t do better.”

Brovdir gave me a knowing look. The kind that didn’t settle well in my bones. He’d been my friend for too long and knew me too well. “Might help you settle.”

I clenched my fists. I’d foughthardto be here. Brutal, bloody challenges that had left many maimed. Only fifteen of the fifty warriors in our band had won the right to stay and protect the Rove Woods. The rest followed Warlord Karthoc back out into chaos and carnage. At the time, I’d felt lucky to have earned my place.

And now. . .

“I’ll take you there tonight,” Brovdir said quietly, and then he turned away and walked back into the clan.

I exhaled sharply as I watched him go. The forest loomed before me. A place where the trees seemed to glow with life, and the air was so fragrant and clean, I could taste the sweetness on my tongue.

I set off into the woods.

The trees above me were golden and red, dappling the light through the foliage. Birds sang, driftingtheir sweet melody through the air. The scent was intoxicating, moss and pine and rich soil.

I took another deep breath through my nose, filling my lungs, but not for enjoyment. How many times had I been ambushed while traveling in woods? How many times had humans lunged from behind rocks and trunks to slaughter me where I stood?

At least half the scars on my body were from such encounters. The other half were from face-to-face combat. A lifetime of blood and fear.

And now it was just. . . done.

But my body did not seem to think so. Every tweet and rustle and distant sound made me flinch. My claws came out, my body tensed to attack.

I continued on, wandering aimlessly, with little purpose. How would I know an oddity when I saw one? Everything in these woods was an oddity. They were too lush. Too bright. Too fragrant.

Too perfect.

I did not belong here.

As I exhaled, I tasted the air on the back of my throat. My shoulders loosened with the confirmation that there were no humans nearby. I wondered just how long it wouldtake for me to no longer feel the need to check for danger around every blind corner.

Rustling sounded to my left, cracking of twigs and I leaped to attention, claws out, posture braced for attack.

It was birds. A flock of robins had been startled by my presence and had taken flight. I watched with heated cheeks as they disappeared into the ever-darkening sky.

When had it gotten so late? I’d been patrolling much longer than I’d realized. I supposed I should make my way back to camp. Certainly, one of the warriors would have happened upon an elk or maybe some rabbits and they’d be roasting over the fire now. My mouth watered at the thought.

I took one last deep breath, drinking up the scent of the crisp autumn evening. The damp tasted sweet on my tongue. So alluring and stark like rosemary.

I snapped to attention. That was not the forest.

That was a human.

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