Page 2 of War Seer

She looks expectantly at me, but I cannot speak, cannot reply. Her face has struck me dumb. I have never seen a more beautiful female in all my life. Her silver skin almost glowing with health, her purple hair framing her face. She has delicate, small, gold-capped tusks that jut out of her full lips, which are stained with blue color in the ways of her people. Her small white horns emerge beautifully from her hair, unadorned, yet perfect. Her neck and shoulders are bare, unmarked by a bite, as Guruk has not Claimed her. Her shy smile makes my heart race, and I barely stop my thrum from erupting from my throat. Mine, my Mating Instinct growls.

I have finally seen the female of my dreams, the mate of my heart, and she is already married to my prince and superior officer.

Fuck.

Scrambling for a semblance of politeness, I rasp out, “The pleasure is mine, princess.”

“Oh, Melelea is not technically a princess,” Guruk says, oblivious to my mental turmoil. “Her mother was merely a concubine. She’s not in line for the throne or anything. Though I suppose, now she is my princess consort.”

Lady Melelea looks embarrassed at his explanation, his dismissal of her rank. She flushes in a way that makes her look ashamed.

“Of course, My Prince,” I grind out, barely able to keep from striking Guruk for his blatant and thoughtless disrespect of his bride. “My mistake.”

“No matter,” Guruk says carelessly. “But I called you up here for more than just meeting my bride. I hear that you have not chosen anyone for your own Bride Chase?”

I pry my eyes away from Melelea, who looks at me curiously. I cannot keep looking at her with such blatant longing, or Guruk will realize I covet her, and he’ll Challenge me. Part of me would relish the chance to kill him and take his bride, but I have too much loyalty to truly do such a thing. Besides, Melelea looks at Guruk with stars in her eyes, her infatuation apparent. I would never do anything to cause the happiness that I see in her right now to dim.

Guruk looks at me, waiting for my answer. “That is correct,” I say, not expounding further.

“Come now, Brother Wodred,” the prince says, still ribbing. “What’s stopping you? Take a bride and sire some orclings. It’s our duty. We need strong lines like yours to continue. Or are you not grateful that I have granted you a Bride Chase?”

His eyes narrow on that last remark, and I feel that I am close to offending the prince. But what can I say? That I had absolutely no intention of taking a bride until I saw the trolless that he has already chosen for himself? That I am one bad decision away from killing him and taking his bride for myself?

“I am grateful for the honor, of course,” I say carefully, deliberately, choosing words that cannot be construed as lies, though barely. Though I drink orikiri leaf tea regularly like any orc to mute my scent, I don’t want to risk the prince getting any hint of any attempted prevarication. “I just find that I have a stronger desire to be back home, with my family. We have been away from Orik for too long.”

Guruk relaxes at these words and takes Melelea’s hand in his, leaning back indolently in his chair. “I can understand that. Do not worry, Wodred. We will be leaving as soon as the week of feasting is over. If you see a female that you want before then, though, I highly recommend a Bride Chase. There’s nothing like a little primal play to get a female’s blood going.”

“My lord . . .” chastens Melelea, blushing again at his words, though a secret little smile plays about her lips. She’s embarrassed but happy. It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the gut.

“What?” laughs Guruk. “It is true. Do you not wish Wodred to have a happiness like ours?”

Melelea’s luminous gray eyes land on me, considering. My breath catches under her gaze, longing filling my heart. She is all I want, and I can never let her know. “Perhaps Wodred is merely being wise,” she finally says. “A bride is a commitment, after all. Best to be sure that you wish to spend your life with someone before chasing them.”

“Things are different with orcs, my dear,” Guruk says dismissively. “As I told you, most brides do not last long past bearing a child for an orc. It is why my father, in his wisdom, has outlawed Claiming. So that orcs do not pine and waste away for the mates that leave them.”

“But it will be different for us, will it not, my lord?” Melelea asks quietly, her tone a little wounded. “I have told you that I will never leave you.”

“Of course,” Guruk says flippantly. “I would never let you leave me now that I have you. You are mine now, Melelea.”

I bristle at his words, his half-hearted, biteless Claim of the trolless. He would profess ownership of her, but deny her a true mating? If anyone could defy King Rogan’s ban on Mating Bites and restore the true way of things to Orik, it would be Guruk. He’s staking a Claim on Melelea, but only on his terms, and without a solid commitment. I find it weak and cowardly.

Melelea seems to notice the tension that is suddenly between us and looks at me again curiously. Obviously changing the subject, the trolless says, “You know, Wodred, if you would like, I could give you a rune reading to see if we can find you a bride. I have a good collection of runes and know many available trollesses. Between my sight and my knowledge, I’m sure I could find you a good partner.”

“Rune reading?” I ask, my voice rasping out again. Hearing her say my name has affected me more than I would have expected. Mine, growls my Mating Instinct again. Not mine, I respond internally. Never mine.

“Melelea fancies herself a seer,” Guruk answers for her. “She reads runes and cards and stars. She can also cast some amusing illusion magics. Maybe she’ll perform for us later. It is an entertaining show of power.”

“I am sasari, like my mother before me,” Melelea says, ignoring Guruk’s disrespect once again. “My father, the king, chose my mother as one of his concubines because of her gift. I am not as strong in my sight as she is, but I can commune with the universe, and it speaks to me. I would be happy to see if I can find your perfect pairing.”

If Melelea truly has the gift of sight, her runes would only reveal that I want her, a truth that I want hidden at all costs. “Your offer is as kind as it is generous,” I answer solemnly, “but my heart is in Orik, with my family. A bride is not in my future, currently.” Again, I am speaking carefully, making sure that every word is true. Since Melelea is spoken for, no bride will be in my future. Perhaps someday I will find someone else who makes my Mating Instinct howl, but not right now.

Melelea looks disappointed. “Are you certain? I would be happy to use my skills for you.”

“I do not require such an honor at this time, my lady,” I reply, barely stopping myself from calling her “princess” again. The title just seems to fit her, but I don’t want to open her up to Guruk’s thoughtless words again.

“Well,” Prince Guruk says, interrupting, “If you will not take a bride as my thanks for saving my life during battle, I suppose this will be goodbye.”

“My Prince?” I ask, confused.