Her Orc Warrior: A Monster Fantasy Romance (Black Bear Clan Book 3)
Her Orc Warrior: Chapter 21

I barely sleep that night. Vark lies down with me, both of us shielding Wren from the cold, but I can tell he’s awake most of the time, too, only dozing off for short periods, then waking again, restless. He gets up before dawn and takes over the last watch, letting Ritta get some sleep. I give up on rest when the sky turns gray, and Vark puts me through a grueling training that ends with me dry heaving in the bushes, too exhausted to think.

It’s exactly what I need. To be so tired that my anxious brain finally gets a break, because the various aches and pains in my body take up all my remaining thoughts.

When I collapse by the fire and accept a bowl of porridge from Ozork, I’m ready for a conversation with my daughter. She’s awake, bright-eyed, and already asking Korr questions about forest animals. I shuffle over to her side, sitting on the log next to her. Korr gives me a sympathetic smile and stands, telling Wren he has to prepare his wagon for departure.

“Hey, baby,” I begin. “Did you sleep well?”

She nods, twisting a stalk of grass around her small fingers. “The trees sang me a lullaby.”

If I hadn’t spoken with the orcs last night, I would have dismissed this as another figment of her imagination. But now, I have to wonder how much truth there is to her words.

“Did you like their voices?” I ask, a lump forming in my throat. I hate that I can’t experience the world as she does, and vow at that moment that I’ll do my damn best to understand her just as she is.

“Ye-es,” she drawls, turning toward the forest. “Maple has the sweetest one. Fir’s is scratchy, like his bark.”

“That’s good.” I’m worried, but I do my best to hide it. “Listen, Wren, do you remember that we talked about how I’m your mama but it was my very best friend who gave birth to you? Then died?”

She nods, silent this time, and scratches patterns into her porridge with her spoon.

“And you know I love you more than anything else in the world?” I press, my eyes stinging.

Wren gives me another tiny nod, but then her lip trembles. “Are you going to sell me to the orcs?” she squeaks.

I stare at her, aghast. On the other side of the fire, Vark drops the porridge pot with a clatter and lets out a low curse.

“No!” I reach for her and draw her into my lap, sending her bowl tumbling to the ground. “Why would you think that?”

Wren lets out a heart-wrenching sob and buries her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking. I wrap my arms around her and hold on, making soothing noises and stroking her back.

“I’m never letting you go,” I whisper fiercely. “You hear me? Never.”

She hiccups and nods, her fists clutched in my tunic. I let her calm down, then gently wipe her face with the edge of my sleeve.

“Was it something I said, love?” I peer into her splotchy face. “To make you think I didn’t want you with me? Because I want to make sure I never do that again.”

She sniffs but shakes her head.

“Then what was it?” I insist, desperate to get to the bottom of this.

She peers up at me from under her long lashes. “Timo said so.”

“That f-fart!” I catch myself in time before uttering a word I don’t want Wren to learn just yet. “He was lying, I promise. I love you very much.”

Wren giggles through her tears. “You said fart.”

I let out a wobbly laugh. “Yeah, I did. He’s a stinker.” I brush back Wren’s curly hair. “What exactly did he tell you?”

She sucks on her lower lip, then says, “That you weren’t my real mama and you were going to sell me when I was old enough.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Vark attacking a dead tree stump with his ax. He swings it with all his might, cutting deep into the wood, then yanks it out and chops down again, sending chunks of bark flying.

I can relate. If I had Timo in front of me right now, I’d take a chunk out of his hide, too.

“That is a lie.” I focus back on Wren. “Selling people is wrong, and you are my daughter. We’ll always be a family, all right?”

“All right,” she repeats, some of the tension going out of her. Then she glances at Vark quickly, and back at me. “Even if you marry Vark?” she whispers.

I can’t help the heat that rises in my cheeks. I’m almost certain Vark can still hear us, despite her whispering. He stops smashing the tree stump and pauses, his back to us.

Oh, he’s listening.

“Even if I marry Vark,” I whisper back.

I don’t know whether orcs even do weddings like humans. It seems that the mate bond takes care of everything—or at least Vark didn’t mention anything about a formal ceremony. I never had dreams of a lavish wedding feast—I always knew it wasn’t in the cards for me—but I don’t think I’d mind marrying Vark if this was something he wanted.

But all that will have to wait. Making sure Wren feels safe with us will be my first priority. I exhale, debating whether this is a good time to tell her about her father after all. But she deserves to know, and if the fae still live in this land, she has to be aware of them.

“Listen,” I say. “We may have figured out something about your father, too.”

She looks up at me, her attention clear. I explain as simply as I can that she might not be entirely human.

“So you can’t hear the trees?” she asks, head cocked as if she’s listening to some faraway conversation.

I strain my ears for a moment. “No. Only the wind rushing through them.”

She pats my cheek with her warm hand. “I’m sorry.”

I didn’t expect that, but I smile at her and say, “You’ll have to tell me all about it. And the fairies, too. Promise?”

“Promise,” she says, grinning back.