Page 112 of The Orc Chief's Baker
Brovdir let out a ragged sigh that seemed to take all his tension with it. Then he turned to her and held out his hand. “To the hall?”
She nodded instantly and put her hand in his. His skin was warm, and his hold was tender and all traces of his anger vanished the moment she willingly followed him through the icy forest.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
BROVDIR
He was going to slaughter that male.
Trinia walked next to him with a brisk but relaxed clip. Her dark curly hair bounced, and her lush hips swayed, and her eyes flitted to his more than once.
Her hands in his hair had felt so blastedgoodand reminded him of how it had felt the night before to have her stroking him in such a way. Awash with contentment. Warm to the core with a sense of belonging. Of safety.
Like home.
She felt likehome.
He wanted to tell her that. Buthow?
They arrived at the hall far too soon and found that there were a few males lingering within. They sat at the table furthest away from the still bubbling cauldrons.
Bubbling cauldrons that stank like the foulest brew imaginable.
“Oh, Fades.” Trinia gasped as she covered her nose with her hand. “What is that?”
Brovdir screwed up his nose as the distinct scent of burned grass mixed with old fish permeated his senses. The smell was so potent it made his eyes water, and his throat constricted.
“Wait outside?” he offered, gesturing back toward the massive entry doors.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll get used to it,” Trinia said with a little cough. “But what was the cook trying to make? It smells horrible.”
Blast it, he’d made a mistake. “Ogvick. A warrior. Not much experience cooking.”
“Fades, help us.” Trinia’s nose wrinkled in disgust even as Brovdir fought a grin at their similar reaction. “It’s almost time for the midday meal. Won’t the whole clan be here for food soon?”
“Perhaps.” He honestly thought it unlikely. Certainly, most in the clan had smelled what was being boiled here a while ago and decided to eat in their homes instead.
“Where is Ogvick?” Trinia looked around. “I don’t see any warriors here. Did he make a run for it?”
“No...” Brovdir recalled that he’d asked Ogvick to find Caivid and Hendr once he was done with the soup. “Likely he’s just... done with it.”
Trinia chewed her lower lip. “Oh. I see. Should we try to fix it for him?”
Brovdir had no idea where to start with that, but Trinia was a baker, so cooking must have been second nature to her.
Still, he hated forcing his woman to work.
Before he could shake his head, she snorted and said, “Iwantto help, Brovdir. It would be a fun challenge.”
She’d have fun with it?
“We should probably find something else to serve and dump those. I think they’re beyond repair.” She looked to where the group of males was sitting. “Hey, Tovid! Do you think you could empty these pots?”
“Fades,yes,” the conjurer said in a rush as he got up. He was a scrawny thing. Barely enough muscle to heave his own soup bowl. His friends, of equal stature, followed suit. “Any longer, and the tree’s going to soak the stench into the bark and never let it go.”
Trinia let out a laugh at the male’s joke that made Brovdir instantly on edge. “Thank you.”
