Page 67 of The Savage Vow
At least her mate was still alive.
But yet, even though she was alive, she’d been taken. That truth sat in Nargol’s chest, a blade that refused to be pulled free. If she could have switched places with Orlena, she would have without hesitation. It should have been her. She held more value being the daughter of the chieftain, but they didn’t want her.
They’d kept Orlena because they knew they could get what they wanted out of Nargol if they held Orlena over her.
By the time the inn came into view, Nargol’s silence had hardened into something quite dangerous. It had been a long time since she had fallen into this darkness. The lanterns outside flickered in the evening wind, casting long, wavering shadows.
Torch slowed the second she tugged the reins. The shukan snorted as if sensing the storm residing inside her. She dismounted in one smooth motion.
Makhel slid down moments later.
“Nargol—”
Nargol walked past her. Inside the inn, the scent of stale ale and smoke greeted her. The low murmur of voices dimmed, and a few patrons glanced up from their cups. Nargol ignored them. She walked past and climbed the stairs two at a time.
Their room door creaked as she pushed it open. The space was crammed, sparse and suffocating. It was nothing like the warm home located in the human quarters. A small cabin that had been decorated and made to feel welcoming.
Nargol’s hands curled into fists.
She did not move from where she stood.
Memories came of that morning when she’d woken up with her limbs tangled with Orlena’s. Her woman’s body had been soft and warm underneath the covers they had shared. Instead of returning to the comfort, she stood in a tiny room in an inn while her mate was goddess only knows where.
In her mind, she plotted—tracking, supplies she’d need, weapons…
Mahkel entered behind her and immediately began moving. She crossed to her bed where her satchel was waiting. She yanked it open and stuffed her belongings inside it. She was preparing to leave.
To retreat.
Nargol watched in silence. Minutes passed before the other orc paused. She turned and glanced at Nargol. Her gaze swept the room once, then returned to Nargol.
“You are not packing.” Makhel sighed.
Nargol did not answer. She couldn’t. If she did, words that shouldn’t come out of her mouth would pour.
Makhel’s expression tightened. “Nargol.”
The air thickened. She stepped closer to Nargol and lowered her voice. It was edged with plenty of tension.
“Please say something.”
“I am thinking.” Nargol exhaled slowly. She already had plans in her mind of where she was going to go next.
“Thinking?” Makhel barked a humorless laugh. She gestured to the untouched items on Nargol’s bed. “We are leaving. We need to ride for Udenia so we can tell your father everything.We can now report to him who is behind everything then we will return with an army.”
Nargol shook her head slowly.
“No.”
Makhel grew still, narrowing her amber eyes on Nargol. “What did you say?”
“I said no,” Nargol said. “You will ride to Udenia.”
“And you?” Makhel canted her head to the side. Her expression gave away that she already knew the answer to the question she’d asked.
“I will not be leaving here.”
Silence detonated between them. Makhel flew over to Nargol with a determined expression.
