Page 73 of The Savage Vow
The other orcs resumed their conversations. A few chuckles and laughs rang out. Orlena tried to steady her breathing.
Bula.
No—Nargol. Who was she? Was she truly a spy? Was she truly the princess of the orc chieftain? She tried to remember everything she knew about the chieftain and his family and she did recall that he had two daughters. One, who was mating with the half-breed. The other daughter, she hadn’t known much about.
But was Nargol a liar? Had she meant to keep the truth from Orlena?
Her chest tightened painfully.
Had Nargol meant any of the sweet words she had said to Orlena? Had anything between them been real? The touches? The promises? The kisses? The way she’d held Orlena? The way her voice had softened when they were alone?
Or had that all been strategy?
Orlena thought back to the times where Nargol had come to the shop. Had she truly been there for her, or had she been trying to get information on Yambul?
Orlena’s throat burned. Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back and grew angry at herself when one fell and burned a warm trail down her cheek. She thought of the last time she and Nargol had been together.
Her heart ached.
She had fallen in love.
The realization came like a wave crashing over her. It was sudden, undeniable, and suffocating all at the same time.
She loved Bula—Nargol.
But who was she in love with? The woman who had kissed her gently in quiet moments alone? Or the warrior with secrets layered beyond anything Orlena could see?
Her heart was splitting in two.
Hagu laughed loudly, shattering the fragile quiet that had fallen over the camp.
“How long does it take to have a piss?” he called out.
Others joined him laughing. Apparently, the orc who had left to go relieve himself had not returned.
Once the other orcs ceased laughing, Hagu called out, “Urlgag!”
No response came from the trees.
The fire popped loudly. The orcs sitting around it stilled. Grat stood from where he was sitting and motioned to one of the orcs.
“Zarful. Go fetch him. Make sure he didn’t stumble down the fecking slope,” Grat said.
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the group. Orlena picked up on the uneasiness going through them.
Zarful stood and disappeared into the darkness. The forest swallowed him whole. Time stretched, and before long, neitherof the orcs returned. The laughter around the fire died as they became unsettled in their seats.
“Something’s wrong.” Grat’s jaw tightened. He folded his arms.
Yambul’s gaze drifted to the cave and landed on her. A growl rumbled in his chest. He rose and stalked toward her. She scrambled backward instinctively, but the ropes surrounding her wrist prevented her from going far. He seized her by the arm and yanked her upright. Pain shot through her shoulder, and a cry spilled from her lips.
“If that Cydassi bitch thinks she can scare us,” Yambul snarled to the others. He dragged Orlena over to the firelight. “She will learn differently tonight.”
“The female cannot take us all on,” Hagu scoffed.
“She is only one warrior,” Grat agreed.
Yambul’s grip tightened painfully on Orlena’s arm. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. The agony from her wrists was shooting up her arms. Tears blurred her vision, and she tried to concentrate on not passing out from the pain.
