GYDA

I followed the orc as he guided me through the mountain hallways.

It was growing colder the further we walked, and my skin instantly became covered in goosebumps. I wasn’t feeling cold, though, and that wasn’t only because the orc had draped a thick blanket around me to keep me warm. No, this heat came with the nerves rushing through my whole being. My hands were clammy, my face sweaty, my chest pounding, and my knees shaking.

I was nervous ever since I'd arrived at Asclan Peaks, but my anxiety only became worse after he’d called me by my name. It was the first time I heard a man say it. It was the way the word had spilled from his lips, his voice so low and hoarse.

“Gyda…”

Right after he’d selected me, Betsy had written down our names and I learned my mate for the night was called Orvar. Orvar the orc. I felt it had a nice ring to it.

I was still so surprised and somehow gloating that he—the orc leader himself—had chosen me.

Me.

Why me?

My heart was pounding so hard that I wondered if he could hear it as we walked through these long, damp, musty-smelling tunnels.

Of course, what had happened to Olivia had been quite the shock as well. Orvar hadn’t been wrong for doing what he did, because she deserved it, but I could only imagine how bad she must feel right now. I remember her teary eyes after she realized what she’d done, so I still believed she wasn’t purely evil.

“This is my place,” Orvar said as we stepped through a round archway and into his room.

It was small, enough for one person. Just like the other rooms I’d seen, this one came with painted walls and a hanging burning torch. But there was one big difference: this room had a hole in one of the walls, like a small window, equipped with wooden shutters that were wide open. Fresh air blew inside and it smelled a lot less musty and moldy in here.

I took a large breath as I scanned Orvar's place.

There was an enormous bed, carved out of stone, covered with sheets and thick, fluffy fur pelts. A wooden bench and a large square-shaped rock passing for a table were enough to fill the room.

“It’s a nice place,” I said.

He hummed in agreement and turned around, then grabbed a leather curtain that hung next to the archway and proceeded to tie it up in front of the passage to give us some privacy.

As he was busy tying the knots, I took the opportunity to observe him.

He truly was enormous. His arms, neck, and legs were easily double the size of mine, and I wasn’t a petite lady. His back was like a v-shaped brick wall. His feet were huge, with sharp, pointy toenails. They could almost be called claws, just like his fingernails. Only his right middle finger seemed to be without a nail and I wondered why.

His back muscles moved as he worked, flexing and relaxing. His skin was dark-gray with a hint of green and shimmered as the torchlight shone on the thin layer of sweat his body was coated in.

He turned around and approached me. Without thinking, I took a step back.

“Do you fear me?” he asked, taking another step forward. His step was much bigger than mine and the distance between us was gone.

“No,” I answered.

I didn’t think that was a lie. I wasn’t really scared of him, per se. I was more nervous about this whole situation. Nervous about what was to come.

“Good. I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to feel at ease. You can trust me. Tonight, this is your place as much as it’s mine.”

“O-okay,” I answered before I pursed my lips and nodded.

“Let’s sit down,” he said, suddenly grabbing me and lifting me up in his arms.

“Oh!” I gasped at the sudden movement, staring at the hideous orc as I lay in his arms like a baby being cradled. One arm was wrapped around my back and the other held under my knees. He felt so warm, his skin radiating against me.

He released a low chuckle in reply and walked us over to the bench, where he put me down and then sat next to me. He took off the stuffed shoulder bag that he’d been carrying for me and dropped it on his table.

“I don’t like to talk to you while we're standing,” he said, opening my bag. “Too far apart.”

He took a lock of the hair I’d stuffed in there after Olivia’s betrayal and brought it to his nose, sniffing at it. He made a pleasing sound while looking at me through his long lashes.

I felt a bit awkward. “Y-yeah… You’re pretty massive,” I replied.

I tried to smile but felt my lips trembling as I did. Orvar must have noticed it, but he ignored my nervousness.

“I’ve heard that before,” he replied while stuffing my hair back into the bag and placing the thing on the table again.

Now it was me, looking at his mouth. He smiled with a closed mouth but two of his lower teeth were too large to fit in his mouth and curled outside like two white tusks the size of my thumbs.

Looking up, I properly saw his eyes up close for the first time. The light eye had golden glints in the iris, and his pupil was deformed.

“Your eye. Uh… Were you born this way? Or is it because of the scar?” I asked, looking at the line that crossed his left eye.

“I was born with two black eyes. This happened long ago during a fight with one of the other clans.” He pointed at his scar.

The fights between the orc clans. Yes, I’d heard orcs were often at war.

“Aha—” I answered, my breath hitching in my throat when Orvar suddenly touched my cheek. He caressed it with his thumb, soft and gentle, not once scratching me with the sharpness of his nail.

"Let’s not talk about the other clans tonight, okay?”

“S-sure.”

“You are my woman for this night,” he said. “And I want to please you in every way. To make your womb ready for me...”

“Make my womb…” I swallowed. “Ready for you?” I repeated. “H-how will you do that?”

Was this where Fiona’s sewing demonstration would come in?

Orvar smiled. “I have my methods.”

“Oh… uh… Well, I wouldn't know. Because it- it’s my first breeding moon.”

“I know it is. But it is not my first.”

“How’d you know?” I asked. “That it’s my first time, I mean?”

Maybe it was a stupid question, but I was sure Orvar couldn’t possibly know every name of every woman that had ever visited these mountains. I could have easily been visiting this place these past eight years if Mother had allowed me to.

“Because I would have remembered you.”

“Do you have such good memory?”

He shoved the blanket from my shoulders, making it drop onto the bench.

“I’m the leader of this clan, so it’s my duty to know things,” he replied, putting a hand on my belly. His one open hand was almost as big as my abdomen. “It’s also my duty to make sure you’re getting stuffed and bred tonight. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do…”

I inhaled a deep breath. "O-oh."

“But before I take you,” he continued, his hand still on my belly, “I want to give you something else. A gift.”

“A gift? Oh, but I have not brought a gift for you,” I replied.

"You didn’t need to. So, what would you desire to take home with you?” Orvar asked. “I can give you a pelt, meat, a weapon, or some cheese we made with goat milk."

Mother's fur blankets and annual succulent oven roasts crossed my mind. I suddenly realized my sisters must have taken them home with them as their gifts. So, it was like that, hm? We weren’t supposed to ever speak or even think about the orcs, but we could accept their presents and bring them home and even enjoy them?

"Or a diamond?" Orvar added.

"A diamond?" I asked.

"We sometimes find one when working in the mines. I was lucky last week and decided my mate could have it. One diamond is worth a lot in your world, is it not?"

"A diamond is worth a lot…" I repeated.

It was worth a lot, indeed. Because I knew the elite paid a lot for such a stone. Many pieces of jewelry could be made with it. So one diamond would probably be enough for me and my family to be comfortable for the rest of our earthly lives. It wasn’t as good as having a male in the family but it would give us enough.

Mom would surely curse at me if she knew I was about to turn down such an offer. Sadly for Mom, she had no say in it. Not this time.

“So, what's it gonna be, woman?” Orvar called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“I don’t want any of that,” I replied.

He cocked his head. “Then what would you desire except for my seed?”

My cheeks burned as he looked at me.

“I want to talk.”

“To talk?” he asked, looking slightly confused.

“Yes. Before I leave, I want to talk.”

“We’re talking now.”

“But I want to know everything about anything. I want to know about the orcs and the mountains and your history.”

Now, he seemed to be surprised, furrowing his thick eyebrows. “You want to know about orcs? That’s an…unusual request…”

Maybe it was, but it was the only opportunity I would ever get to talk to someone. I just wanted to have answers.

“But that is what I wish for as a gift."

"Talking takes more time than giving you pelts or food, and tonight we have other business—"

"I don’t need it right now. The promise that you will give this later—after—is enough to make me content. And as you said, I should trust you. And I do.”

“Sure, Gyda Lionrock. If that is what makes you happiest, then I will grant you that,” Orvar replied, standing up, grabbing my wrists, and pulling me with him. “But first…let me wash you.”