Page 2 of Ella’s Obsessive Orc

So now he’s raising a human baby. In our settlement. Like it’s no big deal. “A lifetime goddamn promise,” I remind him.

Aric fires back, “You said loyalty was everything. Doesn’t matter if the oath is to green skin or pink.”

I hate having my own goddamn words thrown back in my face. Detest it. A roar erupts from my throat and echoes around the fucking courtyard.

The baby, unimpressed, yanks a lock of Aric’s hair and stuffs it in her mouth.

“Ainsley is now my daughter,” Aric says. “And she’s not going anywhere.”

I step in close, nose to nose with my brother. “I know.” Orc vows aren’t negotiable. “But that doesn’t mean I will allow you to wear her around like a goddamn necklace on my practice battlefield.”

Aric’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t blink. “I’ll buy a stroller.”

Behind me, someone coughs, badly faking a sneeze. I whirl on the rest of the guards. “Have you gotten your fill of gossip for the day?”

A ripple of “yes, sir” echoes back, none of them meeting my gaze.

“Then get the pit clean and do a lap around the lower wall. I want it done before sunset, or you’re scrubbing the latrines with your teeth.” I glare until the last one scurries off.

Aric watches them go, then turns back to me, his voice softer. “She is part of my heart.”

My brain wants to call it sentimental bullshit, but the logic is ironclad. An Arch never breaks a promise.

I open my mouth to retort, but the baby beats me to it with a resounding belch. She grins, toothless, and I swear she’s mocking me.

I sigh, defeated for the moment. “Fine. Just… keep her away from the forge and hire a goddamn nanny so you can get back to your duties.”

Aric nods, almost respectful. “You’re a good brother, Oren. Under all the bluster.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I mutter, but my chest feels lighter. For a second.

The moment hangs there, all charged and weird, until the baby tugs Aric’s ear so hard he yelps.

The ground begins to vibrate. Not an earthquake, but footsteps. Gavric Stone, the settlement’s resident wall of discipline, stomps in from the northern gate. His armor glints, a fresh scratch gleaming across one pauldron, and he carries the smell of hard labor and dried blood. He never removes his helmet in public, something about “command presence,” and today is no exception.

He stops two paces from Aric, folds his arms with a creak of leather and plate, and waits.

Aric senses the audience and shifts, standing with the baby still secured. “Gavric. You need something?”

Gavric’s visor pivots to me, then back to Aric. “Any progress on finding a nanny for the child?” All of the leading council members are concerned about a member of the ruling family raising a human child.

Aric straightens, instantly falling into officer protocol. “I have an interview this afternoon for a nanny. She has references and experience with Orc requirements.” He shrugs.

Gavric grunts. “The Settlement Council will want a background check. Standard procedure.”

“I’ll handle it,” Aric says, the baby squirming against his chest like a larva in a cocoon.

Gavric nods, satisfied. “She’s kind of cute. In a sickly, pink sort of way.” He gives a perfect fake shudder that screams, “learned from Brielle at the library.”

Not long ago, I would have laughed at the idea of an Orc library, but Kodi Brute’s human mate wanted a safe place to work. So Kodi built her a damn palace of books right in the center of the settlement. Yeah, some old guard bitched at first. Humans and their “quiet reading time” seemed pointless, but it turns out Orcs are obsessed with the place. The building is a beast: carved stone, high arches, walls lined with every kind of book you could imagine—even some written in ancient Orc script.

Now, half of my guards sneak off between shifts to “study history” or “research tactics.” Hell, even Gavric has been spotted in there, helmet and all, reading up on human war strategy. We hit the place at least three times a week. Nobody wants to admit it, but the library is now the heart of the settlement. The place is packed every evening. Orcs file in, snatching up manuals on siege tactics or cookbooks or even the trashy romance novels Brielle stocks on the upper shelves.

I snort, unable to resist. “Are you pining for offspring? You should find a mate first.” My first officer has been quite vocal about his plans to remain unattached for eternity.

Gavric doesn’t dignify that with a response. He turns, boots grinding against the stone, and marches away, every step an indictment of someone’s incompetence.

Aric lets out a breath, then glances at me. “I’ll keep you updated on my nanny search.”

The baby chooses this moment to wail, a sound so shrill it nearly shatters the glass in the lanterns overhead. Aric bounces her expertly, murmuring nonsense syllables and stroking her head. She quiets, eventually, and stares up at him with sleepy adoration.

Fucking hell. Just looking at the two of them together makes my tusks ache. Aric, acting like some goddamn textbook dad, all gentle hands and patient humming, while the little larva-goblin grins up at him like he’s the goddamn sun. I swear, if another one of my guards catches me standing here like a sentimental idiot, I’ll make them eat their boots for breakfast.

I clear my throat, way louder than necessary. “Back to work, Aric. Some of us still have a settlement to run.” I stomp off, boots pounding the cobbles, pretending I don’t notice how my chest feels weirdly hollow for a second. Like something’s missing.

It’s not jealousy. I’d rather gut myself than get soft like that. But as I pass under the main archway, all I can picture is Aric’s arms wrapped tight around that tiny scrap of human, holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.