Page 29 of The Savage Vow
“That’s what we want to hear. We will be in touch.” Hagu nodded, too, then shoved his way through the crowd.
Nargol shared an unspoken look with Makhel. Much would be discussed once they left here. An urgency built inside Nargol. She had to find a way to send word to her father. He had to know what she’d discovered so far. This could not wait until she returned. If there were orcs already in Udenia ready to strike, he needed to prepare their warriors. Increase security, and after what she’d discovered about the human treatment here, Magoza would certainly want to keep a closer eye on Amuleta and her mother.
Thunder raged overhead. Rain fell. At first it was a slow drizzle, then switched to a pounding force that soaked through her cloak. The ground turned into a slick mess. The torches surrounding the area hissed and dimmed.
The meeting dissolved as the rain refused to let up. Orcs scattered into the shadows. Nargol and Makhel raced back to where they had left their shukans. They mounted quickly and took off. Nargol’s heart thudded. Not from fear, but from the weight of what she carried now.
Another attack was coming.
And she was running out of time. She’d have to find a way to send word home without blowing her cover. She refused to remain here and allow them to come under attack without warning them. Eventually, she would have to go back to Udenia, but she couldn’t leave quite yet.
Not without the information she’d been sent to gather.
And certainly not without Orlena.
They rode their beasts hard. Makhel must have sensed the urgency that rested inside Nargol. She had made a promise to Orlena that she would see her tonight.
As they rode back toward Soza, night swallowed the forest. Rain lashed against her face, cold and relentless.
“Are you sure you don’t want to seek shelter?” Makhel hollered.
Nargol shook her head.
“You can if you want. I need to get back to the village,” she shouted.
“If you are going back now, then I shall ride with you,” Makhel said. She bent down low, close to her shukan as they charged toward the village. Their beasts may be large and bulky animals, but they were surefooted.
Nothing was going to stop her from keeping a promise. Orlena had probably already closed the shop. Had she been safe when walking home? She’d said Soza was a safe village and that she always walked home after closing. The memory of the orcs outside the tavern came to mind again. Nargol urged Torch on. She’d ensure he’d get plenty of treats once they had arrived back in the village.
Right now, she needed to see Orlena.
Her mate.
By late afternoon,the sky had darkened to a bruised gray. The air had grown heavy and pressed against Orlena’s skin. The wind rattled the shutters of the shop and sent loose scraps skittering across the street. She stood by the door, peered out, and took in orcs scurrying past with their cloaks drawn tight. She even took notice that the market vendors had packed up early.
Everyone sensed what was coming.
Orlena didn’t hesitate to close up the shop sooner than usual. Her hands trembled, and she raced around and made sure everything was in its place. Yambul would grumble about the shop closing early, but she didn’t care. She had to get home.
She stepped outside and was almost knocked over by the strength of the wind gust.
“Oh!” she gasped. She struggled to slip the key in the door, but she finally succeeded. She stepped back and slipped it into her satchel and turned. Disappointment filled her as she glanced down the street.
She lingered for a moment in the hope of seeing a familiar broad-shouldered figure approaching, but there was no sight of Bula. She pushed down her bruised ego and shook her head.
Orlena began making her way home. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and held on to the hood to ensure it didn’t blow off.
She didn’t know you were closing the shop early, she reminded herself. That made her feel better. The wind picked up once she reached the human quarters. Rain fell in sharp, sudden drops. By the time she reached her door, the sky finally broke open. Rain crashed down in sheets so heavy it felt like the world was being washed clean.
Orlena swung open her door and raced across the threshold and had to force the door closed. She leaned back against it and tried to catch her breath. She’d practically run home. The streets had been filled with others who were trying to avoid the storm.
The storm arrived like an omen.
The thunder shook her small home. She turned, barred the door, and rested her forehead on it for a moment longer, stepping back. She peeled her damp cloak off and hung it up on the hook by the door.
Her place was cozy. Wood, stone, and the faint scent of herbs she’d hung to dry greeted her. She went over to the furnace andstoked the fire, letting it roar to life. She smiled. Her neighbor, Isha, must have stopped by and started it so it warmed the place. They had keys to each other’s houses. She would have to go over and thank her friend.
She set water to heat. The chill from the rain burrowed down to her bones. The storm howled, but within these walls, she was safe.
