Page 53 of My Orc Billionaire
Abydos’s arms were around my waist, his left cheek—the one with the scars—pressed against my stomach, and the positionshouldhave been awkward. It wasn’t.
“I think I could die happy right now,” he murmured.
My laughter was the quietest little huff. “You only came once.”
I felt his brows move against my skin. “You think that’s what I mean when I say I’m happy?”
“Mmm. It’s not?”
I ran my fingers through his hair, and when my stubby nails accidentally scraped across his scalp, he shuddered out a groan, then pressed his face closer. I chuckled again.
“Okay, I see what you mean.” I scratched his head some more. “Do you want to move?”
“Not even a little bit.” The words were muffled by my stomach.
“I mean, you can’t be comfortable like that, with your broken tusk all smooshed.” I gave his head another few squeezes. “I can scratch your head if you want to move?—”
His head rose, and that strange green stare met mine unerringly in the dim lighting. “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” I whispered.
He grunted and lowered his face to my skin again. “You could never hurt me, Riven. My tusk feels fine.”
Did it, though? “Tarkhan told me that you canfeelwith your tusk, like it’s a sensory organ.” When he didn’t respond, I pressed on. “And that if it’s broken and uncapped, it causes constant pain. I don’t like the thought of you in pain.”
After a long moment, during which I kept scratching, Abydos finally lifted his head. “Do you want me to cap it?”
“I’d buy you a cap myself if I had any idea what to look for,” I told him truthfully. Then, with a sigh, I used my hold on his hair to turn him to face me. “You don’t deserve pain. I don’t know what Tark was talking about tonight when he talked about your hatred and pain, but I can guess, and I don’t like it.” I shook his head slightly with my grip on him. “You’ve grown past that. You’re in bed with a human, for fuck’s sake.”
I saw the flash of white as his grin came and went in a moment.
“I am. My favorite human.”
“And you know that humans can be kind and welcoming and aren’t all full of?—”
“Yes, fine,” he groaned, dropping his head back to my stomach. “You’re all amazing, and I’ve been a fearful, scarred, bigoted asshole all these years.”
I froze. “I didn’t say that.”
He merely hummed, and I sighed in response.
“Abydos, you’re not an asshole.” My fingernails raked across his scalp again, and he shuddered. “I asked you before, and you refused, but I’m going to ask again.” It was easier to ask here in the darkness, without having to hold his gaze. “What happened to make you fear us like this?”
The silence stretched on, and I thought he wasn’t going to answer.
Finally, however, he blew out a breath and turned his head so he faced away from me, his cheek pillowedagainst me. I felt him swallow, and his voice seemed dull when he began to speak.
“I grew up hungry. Our father was a shit provider, preferring to drinksternkaberrywine instead of hunting with the other males. I started taking his place with the hunting parties when I was young, just so Aswan and our younger brothers could eat. When the elders decided to send Tarkhan through the veil, I stepped up to go with him. He was my best friend.”
Lovingly, I dragged my fingers through his hair. “And you are noble enough to want to make sure he was protected?”
“And I was desperate to get out of there. Aswan, Memnon, and Simbel came with us. Sakkara was our leader, but I was the one the humans saw first. I didn’t realize he had a plan to make sure the human military couldn’t hide us away.” I felt his arms tighten around me. “The humans who found me out in the forest were a group of young males with rifles and whiskey.”
I winced, guessing what happened. “They were scared of you, but being together gave them courage?”
He grunted. “They beat the shit out of me. At first, I didn’t want to fight back…and then I couldn’t. Broken bones, a broken jaw.” He blew out a breath. “They’d started a fire, and I guess they’d decided to burn the evidence…when Sakkara showed up and saved me.”
My chest clenched, imagining how hard it was for Abydos to admit that.
