Page 37 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

“Ye ken I’ve been looking for a Mate for years.”

Not exactly a denial.

“Nay, ye havenae,” Gruptor chuckled, slapping my back. “Whatye’vebeen doing, laddie, is verra different, but I’ve heard the females dinnae mind. Still…”

The way he paused had me frowning.

“Aye?”

He sighed. “If Kragorn doesnae return, and ye have to stay our chief—I ken, I ken, ye dinnae want the role.” He shrugged. “Kragorn isnae Mated and has nae sons. Ye’ll need a son to lead the clan one day. The future of the Bloodfire Clan rests on yer shoulders, laddie. Mayhap ye’d better get serious about finding yer Mate?”

With that, the older warrior strode back toward his cottage—with his Mate and kitlings—leaving me to stare, stricken after him.

I didn’t want my brother’s role.

But…

But the thought of a son—a kitling with Myra? A lad who looked like me, with her quiet intensity?Or a lassie who looked like her, whom I could teach to wield a hammer? A kitling who would be the best of both of us?

I wanted that.

I wanted that so badly, I couldtasteit.

But in order for it to happen, I needed to convince her to see me as more than just a teacher. More than a tutor in the art of pleasure.

Sighing, I scrubbed a hand over my face and headed back to my cottage, where I lit every candle I could find, built up the fire in my hearth to a cheery roar, and began to wrap Myra’s knife handle in leather strips.

But when my project was complete, I realized the fire had died down to embers, the candles were melted…and Myra hadn’t come.

My first reaction was worry that something had happened, but it faded to irritation. I’dtoldher to come to me tonight! I’d commanded it, and she’d agreed, like the good lass she was. She would have told me if she was uncomfortable with it, would she not?

Scowling now, I slid her knife into the sheath I’d made for it, blew out the candles, and yanked open the door. The air smelled of snow, but I cared naught for that right now.

Instead, I stomped across the village, heading for Mkaalad’s home. ‘Twas not so late that I couldn’t call on them, and I would see her expression when I demanded to know why she hadn’t done as I’d demanded.

This time, I wouldn’t use a flimsy excuse about needing a healer, either. I would announce to the world what we were sharing, no matter how panicked she looked.

Fook.

My steps slowed as I reached their cottage, and I admitted the truth to myself. I would never hurt Myra, and that included embarrassing her. I’d better come up with an excuse for my visit; the knife was good enough, I suppose. I needed to measure her hand so I could mold the leather.

I knocked on the door and took a deep breath, expecting to have to explain to Mkaalad why I was visiting after dark.

But Myra was the one to yank open the door.

And she lookedfrantic.

MyKteerreacted instinctively, and I surged forward, my hands going to her shoulders.

“What is it,dkaar? What’s wrong?”

And that’s when I heard it; a long, low moan coming from the bed on the other side of the cottage.

Avaleen.

“Avie,” Myra all but moaned, pulling me inside. “She has at least a sennight to go.”

Mkaalad was suddenly there, looming over us, looking terrified.

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