Page 63 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

“Vartok, youcannotlove me.” I grabbed his arm. “I am—you are just my teacher, aye?” My voice was high-pitched in panic. “You have never seen me the way you see the other women in the village?—”

“And why do ye think that is, love?” he growled, not looking at me.

I slowly stood.

Love.

Pet.

Dkaar.

He’d called me all those things. Was it possible they all meant the same thing?

I gripped my mother’s knife, the handle fitting my hand perfectly, and stared down at his back.

“What doesdkaarmean, Vartok?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer for so long I assumed he wasn’t going to. Or mayhap he hadn’t heard me. He’d moved on to the third plant, his movements methodical.

“Vartok—” I began again, determined tomake him answer.

“Beloved,” he snapped, not looking up. “Dkaarmeansbeloved.”

And he’d been calling me that for ages.

My knees went weak, and I stumbled toward the clutch of nearby boulders to support myself.

Beloved.

He’d called meloveandbelovedand I’d assumed…

“Nay,” I whispered. “I was just your student…I was the one who came to you…”

Proving orc senses stronger than mine, Vartok thrust himself to his feet and spun about, his expression a mask of anger and torment.

“And do ye ken how grateful I was for that chance? ‘Twas the first time ye’d let me into yer life, Myra. I was willing to take anything I could get at that point.”

Take anything…what? I shook my head, my eyes wide.

“You never treated me like…”

“Fook,” he muttered, turned away and dragging his free hand through his braids, setting the beads jangling. “Of course I didnae.”

Determined to get him to admit he was teasing me, I thrust myself to my feet, the hand holding my knife shaking.

“Vartok! You agreed to be my tutor! You—youcannotlove me! You do not even finish inside me!”

“What?” he growled, his green gaze snapping back to mine.

Itmustbe anger, causing his eyes to glow like that, aye?

Oh God, he was going to make me spell it out? I felt myself flushing, but I made myself hold his gaze.

“When you—when we…” I swallowed. “You do not spill your seed inside me. Something so simple, but it tells me how you really feel about me.”

I watched his expression ease from anger to confusion, then understanding. He snapped a harsh bark of laughter as he turned to stalk to the edge of the cliff.

“And why do ye think that is, love?” Back again, still not looking at me. “Ye’re brilliant, and I’m certain if ye just think about it”—back to the cliff—“Ye’ll realize why I take such care to spill outside yer body.”

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