Page 6 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

I wanted that.

I deserved that.

I was a midwife who knew naught of pleasure.

Staring down into the depths of my ale, I took a deep breath and admitted the truth. Iwantedto learn about pleasure and desire and the things a generous orc lover could do with his tongue.

I gulped more of the ale to bolster my courage.

I knew just the male I wanted to ask.

CHAPTER TWO

Vartok

The small drilltwisted between my fingers as I bore into the round bead. Tonight I was working with wood, boring the holes through the beads I’d carved last month and just finished sanding down. These weren’t as easy to create as the clay ones, but they lasted longer. Not as long as silver, but they didn’t require the forge, either.

When the drill popped through the other side, one corner of my lips twitched in satisfaction, and I lifted the small bead to my mouth to gently blow out the sawdust. Then I examined the tiny sphere.

Perfect.

Nodding in satisfaction, I placed it in the bowl with its twins. I wasn’t sure what I would use these for, not yet. Although I preferred silver for my own hair beads, I might widen the hole in these at a later time for braids. Ormayhap I’d paint and string them together to make a necklace for Nan.

I picked up another small sphere and settled the thin drill in place.

I’d been trained as a smith since a young age, and my wooden, silver, and clay beads were popular trade items. Since my people saw no need for wealth, these wooden beads were worth the same as my silver when it came to trade, but usually I kept them within my own clan because it made me happy to see my friends and family wearing them.

My fingers slowed their twisting as I stared down at the bead.

What wouldshelook like wearing a strand of my beads? Something I’d made with my hands for her?

Would she wear it proudly, pleased by their simple beauty? Or would she not understand the significance?

Snorting quietly to myself, I shook my head and began the drill spinning again as I picked up another small wooden sphere.

Myra the Bloodfire Midwife had never shown any interest in my beads, orme.

It was a struggle to remind myKteerof this.

Eight months ago, my cousin Mkaalad had followed his twin brother through the veil to help scout for the Bladesedge warriors, our enemies. Instead, he’d found Avaleen, the Mate bond making itself known immediately and strongly.

Avaleen came to live with us, while her sister stayed behind to care for their ailing—and by all accounts horribly cruel—uncle. When the uncle finally died, and Avaleen was carrying her Mate’s bairn, Myra packed up their possessions and traveled through the stones to our world to care for her younger sister.

I’d taken one look at her andknown.

What is it that Nan had taught us all when we were kitlings?

There is a kenning.

MyKteer, that primitive part of me focused on keeping me alive, had seen her, scented her,knownher.

And she wanted naught to do with me.

It had been a bitter draught to swallow.

Me, who had spent my life as carefree and generous with my skills as the malestalkaanan. Me, who was known far and wide as a charmer, a rake. Me, who the village females used to say would never settle down.

In that instant, I’dknownMyra was my Mate, and despite my smiles, my charm, she was cold and standoffish.

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