All the males did. For three days straight, we sat and drank tankards of ale in silence until we passed out from the pain.

  “Umm,” Joanna says, looking around like she wishes to make an excuse not to sit near me.

  “I didn’t ask,” I say, yanking the fragile wrist toward me until she falls into my lap.

  Her wide eyes find Bessica as if she isn’t sure what to do... yet she is worried about disrupting her new status. Bessica mimes feeding a male and Joanna gulps.

  Is it really that abhorrent to be my whore, then?

  I’m surprised when, instead of picking up a piece of fruit to feed me with, Joanna smooths out the scowl smashed into my forehead. Her small, delicate fingers are cool and smooth on my brow.

  “What’s wrong, Latsil?” she whispers. “Don’t you feel well?”

  It seems like the entire table grows quiet, waiting for my response. I can’t help but drop my voice to match hers, and at the last minute I realize it sounds intimate for us to huddle together to whisper.

  “You aren’t going to simply assume the way to a male’s heart is through his stomach?”

  “Nay,” she says and would have said more if Kreele doesn’t cut in.

  “The orc sulks like a brat because he won’t be included in the trip next full moon. We’re going back to Serenity to pick up Brun’s bride.”

  “First time they’ll go without me,” I admit, flashing a dirty look to Kreele.

  “Why aren’t you going?” Joanna demands and glares at Brun like he’s committed a grievous offense.

  Again, Kreele chuckles.

  Brun holds up his hands toward her. “Not my fault. There isn’t an available steed for him. If there are any for sale we will buy one. Otherwise, he must stick around near the village to see if any feral herds run by so he can find one to break in—”

  “You’re not going because you don’t have a horse?” Joanna asks me.

  I give a short nod, not understanding why she’s so surprised. Surely, she’s never seen two orcs riding together on a steed? We’d break the beast’s back, for sure.

  “Aww, Latsil. Sweet,” she whispers, and someone grunts under his breath that she dares to call me sweet. No one is aware that the time I spent with her is probably the sweetest I’ve ever been. “You don’t have to worry about that. You can have Pegasus.”

  My jaw drops and there is dead silence around the table.

  Finally, Bessica speaks. “Jo-Jo... not sure if you understand that a whore gets paid. Not the other way around.”

  I can’t help but bring her hand up to my ugly, scarred mouth—the mouth that has no right to touch such perfect skin—and kiss her fingers.

  “Thank you, m’kirn. I can’t accept such an expensive beast.”

  She frowns. “Why not? You need a horse. I have a horse. I give him to you.”

  As I shake my head, she turns to Brun—the same Brun she scowled at so fiercely earlier. “Can’t he accept?”

  Brun inclines his head. “He can. But if you don’t choose to stay?”

  She shrugs. “Then I’ll beg a ride to a town somewhere. I’ll figure out something.”

  I’m gentle when I grip her chin and turn her focus back to me. “Any time you need a ride anywhere, you come to me, Joanna. You hear?”

  Silly female has a smile as wide as me when she nods. And then, with everyone watching, she remembers to act like a whore and plops a berry into my mouth. When a drop of juice runs down the scarred recess of my bottom lip, she catches it with her finger—and then licks it clean.

  Licks. It. Clean.

  Just like that, my bad mood clears. Ten minutes with Joanna and my mood is elevated to that of a young orcling whose balls have just dropped.

  This is a warning sign for everyone present... because everyone knows of my shameful past.

  It is why I can never mate again, so it may be best that Joanna is a whore.

  Joanna:

  I’m not sure why this orc refuses to let me love him. In the literal sense, of course. Though, if I’m honest, he’s someone I could love emotionally. There’s something broken about him that tears at my heartstrings. Knowing that he loved his horse, that Midnight was his family and especially connected because he was the sibling to Brun’s horse. As far as I can tell, Latsil has no family other than his best friend, Brun.

  Bessica gave me lessons on how to please Latsil... and I’m not sure I want to know how she knows. Grunalda took pity on me and told me in private that Bessica grew up with Brun, Latsil, and the rest of the bunch. Her brother, Kreele, ran with them so she was the little sister always in the way.

  For now, I continue to feed Latsil berries, trailing my finger into his mouth with each one and letting him suck my fingertip clean. The pull his suckling does makes waves of heat pool between my legs. I’m not sure that the whore is supposed to feel this much for an individual orc but for now, until I get the hang of things, Latsil is the only one who’ll have access to me.

  One day I’ll be a full-fledged whore. Not today. And right now, sitting on his lap, feeling the hard muscles underneath my bum, I don’t mind one whit that he’s it for me until then. I’m going to enjoy every minute of his surliness. You’d think I’d need a happy man after all that I’ve been through, but apparently not. I seem to crave brooding orcs instead.

  I splay my palm onto his chest and feel the deep rhythm of his heartbeat. It pounds faster with my touch, but mayhap that is wishful thinking on my part.

  “Joanna, are you sure you wish to be a whore? You know you’ll have to service ugly mugs like this one, right?” Terk asks.

  Latsil picks up a carrot and pitches it at Terk.

  “Don’t listen to him, m’kirn. He’s jealous,” Latsil whispers as if soothing me.

  Terk’s words, though I know he teases, make me angry.

  “You forget I’ve seen what’s below the belt,” I whisper sultrily. “And it’s big and beautiful.”

  The orcs look stunned by my response.

  “Son of a bitch,” Terk says.

  Grunalda whoops and Bessica starts laughing.

  “She’ll be the best ever,” Vinshesa says.

  When the laughter dies down, the ale flows more freely. But I’m aware that Latsil limits himself.

  “Where do you sleep m’kirn?” he asks.

  “I bunk in the cabin with the kitchen help.”

  “You’ll sleep with me tonight,” he says. And then he fingers the frayed neckline of my dress. “We’ll need to get you some more clothes.”

  “I can make my own,” I say. “I’ll just need to visit a village with fabrics and sewing supplies I can purchase.”

  “We shall go visit the next two towns.”

  “Aye, I promised we’d be back to escort Anna, Mabel, and Beth,” Brun says from across the table. “We can all head out at first light.”

  And I shall buy enough fabric and thread that I won’t have to leave this orc village for a while. Because quite frankly it’s more wonderful than any human village I’ve lived in. I toiled all day on my daddy’s farm and then spent evenings helping momma with the sewing.

  One thing the lady-whores haven’t taught me was... what to do when the orc you’re taking care of starts taking care of you instead. Latsil starts giving me sips of his ale and as soon as I get giddy inside, he starts nibbling it off my lips. I forget all about being a whore and start kissing him back, licking the scar that bisects his lips, wishing I’d have been there to care for him when he was cut. I can’t help but giggle as I whisper against his broken ear that I liked riding with him on the horse. I liked the way his strong thighs butted up to mine, I liked the way his arms came around me to reach the reins.

  “Mmm, liked that did ye, pretty thing?” he rasps, his breath hot against the side of my neck.

  “Very much,” I agree happily, suddenly squinting. The sun has gone down without me even noticing and just the flames of the firepit light the night.

  I turn sideways in his lap and trace my lips over his shoulder where the scar there is smoother. I kiss it, aware that he’s still as a statue. “Why do you have so many more than the others?” I ask.

  “Does it bother you?” There’s a dark tone to his voice, but I’m too sotted to figure out why.

  “Nope. Just makes you tougher than any of them.”

  “My scars are not honorable, m’kirn,” he whispers near my ear.

  For some reason, that tone penetrates, and I stare at him with my brows knotted.

  “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?” he murmurs, picking me up as easily as he would a feather.

  But tucked in is exactly what he means.

  He has a tent set up in Solaya, like the other male riders do. From what I understand, they mostly live in the mountains less than a day’s ride from us. As soon as we enter his tent, he tenderly plucks at the laces of my gown, and I shiver when his fingertip brushes against my stiffened nipple.

  It’s not a surprise to find he has to work his breeches off over his swollen cock. But then, with both of us naked as the day we were born, he pulls me tight to him and wraps the furs around us.

  And wakes me the next morn.

  Chapter Five

  Joanna:

  I’m baffled when I sneak into Bessica’s tent for my pack. In it is my coin purse of gold, which I’ll need for shopping.

  Latsil’s lips had tightened when I told him I had to head to Bess’s tent for my stuff. He doesn’t like that my belongings are stored elsewhere. It’s not like I can walk around the camp all day carrying my pack, which contains all the belongings I own; the sole pot, my canteen, and the empty bag of apples I’d taken from the stables.

  “Bess,” I hiss at the flap over the door.

  “Come in,” she grumbles sleepily. “For such a little pipsqueak, you have the loudest mouth.”

  “Mayhap you just drank too much ale last night,” I mumble as I enter her tent... and freeze. There’s a man in her bed and both are as naked as the day is long.

  “Is she blushing?” Terk asks. “How far in her whore’s training did she get?”

  “Oh, shush,” Bess says, wiggling her ass against his crotch. “You know that’s lady business.”

  “Sorry to bother you,” I say, heading to the wooden chest of drawers that houses my stuff.

  “How did it go with Latsil last night?” Bessica asks. “Did you remember to use lots of tongue on him? He loves to be worshipped.”

  I’m sure my cheeks are still burning as I admit the godawful truth. “No. We didn’t do anything. He tucked me into bed like nothing happened out at the campfire. Like we never shared any kisses or sweet words or anything. I must’ve done something wrong.” I can’t help but wring my hands. “Maybe he finds me lacking.”

  Terk snorts. “He doesn’t find you lacking, m’kirn. Just the opposite.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” I grumble. “He didn’t touch me.”

  “It’s not you,” he says, then turns to Bessica. “Didn’t you tell her?”

  “Nay,” she scowls. “‘Tis not my story to tell.”

  Terk barks out laughter, then nibbles her ear. “I’ve never seen you hold back gossip, sweet.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asks, and blinks lazily. Even first thing in the morning, she’s beautiful, like a ripe, lush goddess. “I can keep a secret with the best of them.”

  And that causes Terk to narrow his eyes at me. “Speaking of which, you are to tell no one you found me in here. Especially not Kreele. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I snap impatiently. “What story?”

  Terk rolls out of bed, butt-naked, and I avert my eyes as I dig through my pack for my coin purse. He pulls on his pants as he says, “Humans don’t know, but you’re one of us now so I’m going to let you in on a little secret. When a male orc falls in love, it’s a once in a lifetime love for him. It’s why a lot of orc matings are arranged. A male can’t be trusted to pick the right mate when he lives in the clouds. Unfortunately, Latsil didn’t have anyone to arrange a mating for him.”

  I blink at that. Of all the things... I never expected that Latsil was already married, or as orcs say, mated.

  I didn’t think the whores were available for mated men. I guess I never thought to ask.

  “She’s dead,” Bessica says simply, noticing the look on my face. “But it was such a bad mating, he’s never recovered. Not wholly.”

  “He loved her that much?”

  “Aye,” Terk says. “‘Tis not always good for an orc to love.” I don’t think it’s my imagination that he looks at Bessica.

  “But you’ll help him heal,” Bessica says. “You’ll be his personal little healer. We’ll show you exactly what he likes, and how to please him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s one of ours,” she says simply. “And he deserves it. He’s a generous and kind soul. You watch and see.”

  Terk grunts and all at once I’m aware of the purse of gold in my bosom. I’d thought Latsil was grumpy but then I think back to when we ate at Homer’s. He was grinning when I tore into my meal like there was no tomorrow. Almost like he knew I was being sneaky and enjoying my food. I think of the way he cuddled me during the night and the next day on the horse. Even last night. He may not have touched me the way a woman wants a man to touch her, but he held me while I slept off my drunken stupor.

  There may be more to Latsil than I first thought. It makes sense why I found him so interesting. Why I wanted—want—to know his story.

  “Are you ready to leave, Joanna? Perfect excuse for me to be seen leaving Bessica’s tent is to walk you back.”

  “Aye. I have all my goods,” I say wryly. Haven’t yet used my cooking pot, nor my canteen.

  He kisses Bessica goodbye, and he and I exit her tent. A couple of orcs wave at us and I can’t quite believe he and Bessica keep their relationship from her brother.

  “You’re going to bathe before we leave, right?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.

  Terk’s tusks gleam as he chuckles. “Don’t care for the sweaty smell of sex under the hot sun, m’kirn?”

  “I feel bad for the horse,” I tease.

  “I’ll dunk in the stream before we go,” he says.

  “Use soap.”

  He guffaws and hooks an arm around my neck. I’m about to protest about rubbing his scent on me when a roar jerks him away.

  “I told you all she’s off limits!” Latsil shouts, shoving him as I shriek.

  Terk lands in a muddy puddle, looks up at us and narrows his eyes. “For how long, Lats?” he whispers.

  The somber tone makes Latsil calm down. “Three full moons,” he says, his voice normal again as if he realizes he might have been out of hand.

  “Aye.” Terk nods and Latsil grabs my arm, hauling me quickly down the path. I look back over my shoulder at Terk, who winks. At least he has an excuse to jump in the creek, I guess.

  “You’re hurting me,” I snap, yanking my arm from his grip.

  Latsil turns to me and looks surprised, then sorry. “Stay away from them, Joanna. You’re not trained for orcs. You must be broken in gently, stretched, wet and completely willing. You can’t just jump in the furs with anyone who flirts.”

  Is he jealous or exerting his power as a trainer? I can’t help but feel a little okay with that. Before I can respond, he speaks again.

  “Why do you wish to be a whore anyway? I set you to serve—”

  “Every man I know has put me to serve in some way, shape or form. But being a whore—it means I can’t get mated or married, right?”

  “Aye. For the most part. Unless someone, your parents or an elder has the right to arrange with another a mating for you.”

  “Well, that keeps me safe. No parents here, right?”

  The corner of his crooked lip turns up. “Same. My parents were killed in orc wars.”

  “I never want to get married,” I say. “Not that I think it would be legal anyway, since I already am.”

  His brows jump up. “You are?”

  I nod. “I left him in hiding at the diner. You’d given me coin and I knew Homer would take it and I didn’t feel like sharing, nor did I feel like having a husband. So, I grabbed Pegasus and fled. I thought I’d make it to Serenity, but the Blackhearts caught me.”

  “That’s why you have nothing.”

  “I have much more than that. I have coin and I have freedom and I have safety.” I sidle up to him and wrap my arms around his waist, then rub my cheek to his chest. He smells so good, like clean soap. “The day orcs were greeted at the village with a kiss, when you kneeled before me, I thought you were proposing. It’s how humans do it, falling to one knee. It terrified me to have to turn you down.”

  He chuckles, though it’s an empty sound. “You were afraid while you were married?”

  “Terrified,” I admit for the first time ever. “I never want to be married again.”

  “You will never be scared again, Joanna,” he says, tipping my chin up to look into my face. “I will build you a cabin. I want you to have a place of your own, a place where you can always feel safe.”

  Gah. This brute is the sweetest orc in all the land.

  By the time everyone has mounted their horses and we’re on the way to Creede, his arms are around me.

  I feel like I’m in seventh heaven. The sturdy muscles of Pegasus’s gait below me, the warmth of the breeze blowing across my face, the strong arms wrapped around me reaching the reins, and the growly voice that whispers in my ear like we’re the only two in the world all make for the perfect mood.

  I think this is my favorite place to be. Maybe it’s because I know that these rides are few and far between with Latsil. Most of his trips will be dangerous orc business, whatever business it is that orcs do. In the past I might have said pillaging, but their clan is different from the Blackhearts who attacked my village. Despite any dangers, I’ll treasure each and every trip I’m allowed to take with this amazing man.

  It gives me the strength and the courage to ask him what’s been bothering me.

  “Why didn’t you touch me last night?”

  Instead of answering the question, he asks one of his own in a deep, growly voice.