Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Aric glances around like he’s expecting reinforcements. “I didn’t have a choice. Gavric’s unit is pulling overtime at the perimeter, and Kol’s swamped at the office.”
The baby waves a fist at my nose, as if daring me to contradict my brother.
“That’s not what I mean,” I snap, resisting the urge to bat the tiny arm away. “You can’t bring her here. She’s human.”
Aric finally stops rocking and straightens his spine. “Why not?”
I jab a finger at the nearest stone arch, so hard the cartilage in my wrist protests. “Because—” I pause and blink several times, searching my brain for a reason. Son-of-a-bitch.
A couple of guards shuffle closer under the pretense of collecting gear. Their ears are burning with gossip.
Fucking hell. I run a hand over my jaw, trying to process this insanity. Aric never breaks eye contact, stubborn as a pissed-off mountain goat. The way he holds that baby… like she’s spun glass. I want to bark at him, but the words snag in my throat.
“I made a promise to my friend,” he stubbornly reminds me. “When Jeremiah and Sally died, she became my child.” Aric’s old army friend and his wife died when a truck missed a curve and hit them head-on, killing them both instantly. Since both parents grew up in foster care, neither had family to take over their child’s care. Then Aric stepped in to take responsibility for her.
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.