Page 14 of Yuletide Orc
Bikkar lifted his chin toward the front door to his cabin. “You didn’t run?”
I followed his line of sight. “It’s still snowing heavily. You were right about it being foolish hoping to get to Caiburn alive. Also, it didn’t feel right to go against yourhospitalitynow.”
Bikkar held my gaze in silence. What was there to say after this morning’s events?
“We’re running low on wood,” I said to fill the emptiness—and to hopefully brush over my vague admittance to enjoying our snowy encounter. “I was afraid to get more while you were still sleeping. But I did make tea.” I pointed out the kettle on the fire.
Bikkar was a terrifying orc. He always had been. But for all the fear and—to be completely honest—thrill that rage and aggression had stoked in me, it wasthisquiet and reserved Bikkar who scared me the most. Sleep had turned him into a completely different person. Gone were the anger and hatred from earlier. The primal need and actions.
Bikkarsmiled. It was small and very fleeting—and gone the moment he’d realized it existed—but itdidhappen. “Thank you.”He studied me and, for a moment, amusement lit his eyes. I realized that was probably from me wearing his shirt as a dress.
My cheeks heated with the slightest bit of embarrassment. I wasn’t sure why. It washisfault my clothes were now shreds of fabric. “Sure thing.”
Bikkar moved to get up. The bed creaked with his hulking form. He made his way to the fire and grabbed a mug on the way. Only when he was seated and distracted by pouring himself tea did I dare ask the question that’d been on my mind for hours.
I pulled my knees close to my chest and focused on the flames instead of Bikkar. “Who’s Kendra?”
Bikkar stopped pouring tea. “Excuse me?”
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. A rivalry and one sinful encounter did not give me the right to pry into his personal life. Doubly so when I’d been part of the cause of much strifeinsaid personal life. “In your sleep. You were saying her name. You looked upset and…”It worried me.But I couldn’t tell him that. Gods, by the anger now swimming in his eyes maybe I shouldn’t have asked at all.
The length of time it took Bikkar to answer me—long enough to finish pouring his tea and set the kettle back on the fire—unnerved me. But despite the anger in his eyes, no outward aggression came.
“My sister,” Bikkar finally answered. I met his gaze. The hatred in his eyes felt like it was burning me all the way through. “She passed.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice was as small as I felt bringing up something so heavy. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“Talk about her,” Bikkar asked with a suddenly biting tone, “or kill her?”
My eyes widened. “I didwhat?” My party had done some horrific things against orcs—because for long time, there’d beenno peace treaty and all they’d done was raid and burn and pillage. It’d all been justified until today.
Or so I’d thought.
Bikkar gestured to me with the mug in his hand, as if he desperately needed something—anything—physically between us in this conversation. “During one of the final attacks before the Crown’s decree. Her home was set ablaze and she died within, alone, while I was fighting you and your friends.”
Relief—fleeting though it was, and absolutely misplaced—flushed through me that it wasnotme who’d killed her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” Bikkar asked as he sat beside me. The action was so casual, but I recognized the tightness in his arms, the stiffness of his body. He may have woken up more relaxed than before, but my presence here and the memories I brought up clearly didn’t sit well with him. And why would they? Our encounter, no matter how fucking hot and satisfying, hadn’t erased the past.
I held his gaze. “Yes. All this violence and death, it’s…” There weren’t words. “We were doing what we were hired to do. Which, no, isn’t an excuse, but until the Crown’s decree, things were justdifferent.”
“Your kind committed violence against mine based on the actions of a few,” Bikkar argued.
I let go of my knees and gestured widely to nothing in particular. “Orcs did the same. They’ve attacked us for centuries. Our people are scared.”
“So are mine.” Bikkar sipped at his tea as if needing a moment to collect himself. “The Crown’s decree was supposed to put a stop to the fighting. To put a system in place to deal with violent agents on both sides. I put myself at risk to work with the Crown on behalf of all orcsandhumans against a common enemy. And you tear down everything in a single morning before sunrise.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. I could argue a lot of things—that it wasn’tmewho’d accepted the job, that we’d only done it for money, that we were mercenaries who helped people as often as we hurt them—but none of that would excuse anything.
I shook my head and focused my attention on the fire. With my magic reserves rested, I could feel the power in the flames. They responded, to some small extent, to my breath, rising and falling in time.
“That wasn’t the goal, for what it’s worth,” I said as my focus waned. “People in Caiburn were terrified, and we should have investigated the job a bit more before accepting it. But we didn’t know it was your tribe.”
“Would it have changed things if you’d known?” Bikkar asked.
“Yes.” Which was the truth. Considering how badly the last fight between our people had gone, with Bikkar sporting a few scars from it and one of my acquaintances dying, we wouldn’t have risked it.