Page 19 of The Savage Vow
She remembered Orlena’s smile instead. She also remembered the sound of her laugh and how it was soft, and her breathing grew ragged at the sound of it. Or how her shouldershad relaxed just a little by the time they had reached the human quarters as though Nargol’s presence had eased something inside her.
That realization unsettled something in Nargol more than any blade at her throat ever had.
Was Orlena scared to walk home at night? She said she did it often, but did anyone bother her on her trek home? The memory of the orcs outside the tavern who’d watched her came to mind. Nargol’s hand balled into a fist at the thought of one of those orcs putting their hands on Orlena.
The inn loomed ahead. Most of its windows were dark save for a few lanterns burning low in some of them. The night had deepened while she’d walked. The stars shone brighter overhead, the moonlight helping to guide her back. Normally, she catalogued every sound, every shadow. Tonight, she’d noticed none.
But that didn’t matter.
Even if someone tried to attack her, it would be a grave mistake for them. Her skills with the knives adorning her body were automatic.
But why was she so distracted?
Why on this mission?
She had crossed paths with countless souls before—orcs, shifters, witches. She had bedded some, shared drinks with others, and left most behind without a second thought. Her focus had always been sharp on missions. Her dedication was to the chieftain, her father, and her clan.
Yet one human woman had slipped beneath her skin in the space of a single evening.
Nargol paused at the inn door.
Is this fate?she wondered.
The goddess Nogora was never subtle when she wished to be known. She wove lives together with iron threads and watchedto see who pulled free and who bled. Nargol had seen it before. She’d heard of mates bound by dreams, by scent, by instinct so strong it defied reason.
This would be a time she needed to speak with her sister.
But alas, she was off on a mission while her dear sister was at home planning her mating ceremony.
Had fate truly found her? She would never have believed it.
She went inside the inn.
The common room was empty, the hearth reduced to glowing embers. The innkeeper’s desk stood abandoned. The ledger was open, and her quill was dry. It was late enough that even drunkards had stumbled to their beds by now.
Nargol moved silently up the stairs. She reached their door and pushed it open without knocking.
Makhel looked up from where she sat on the edge of the bed, a plate balanced on her knees.
“You’re late,” she said.
“I may have lost track of time.” Nargol shrugged. She closed the door behind her, stalked across the room, and removed her cloak.
“That has never happened before.” Makhel snorted. Her sharp gaze swept over Nargol. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Were you with a human?”
Nargol’s muscles tensed. She forced herself to hang her cloak up on the hook on the wall. She turned and eyed Makhel.
Makhel grinned and shook her head. “You found the little human who beat you, didn’t you?”
Nargol didn’t answer. She walked to her pack resting on her bed. She removed her weapons from her body and stored some of the daggers inside her bag, slipping one beneath her pillow.
“So, you aren’t going to tell me where you’ve been? Is it a secret?” Makhel leaned forward with her plate in her hand. She scooped up some of the food and shoveled it into her mouth.
“I was…learning. Gathering details,” Nargol answered. She closed her pack and set it down on the floor near the headboard, then dropped down on the mattress.
Makhel jerked her chin toward the plate sitting on the table between their beds. Nargol nodded her thanks and reached for it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Her stomach gave a small grumble. There were roasted vegetables and lokapi meat that was juicy and tender. Nargol groaned appreciatively as she swallowed her first bite of the lokapi.
“And? What did you learn? Details on how the little human beat you?” Makhel teased. She grinned and shot Nargol a wink.
