Page 30 of The Savage Vow
Was Bula?
She wondered where the orc was during this storm. She didn’t even know where Bula stayed while in Soza. Was she at the inn? Was she with other orcs? She mentioned she was here with a companion. Was she with that person? Wherever she was, Orlena prayed she was safe.
She prepared her bath and quickly washed the sawdust, sweat, and grime off her skin. There was nothing better than dry, comfortable clothes, a good meal, and snuggling with a blanket while Mother Nature raged. She pulled on a soft sleeping gown; the fabric brushed her skin and offered comfort to her.
Her stomach growled low.
“Okay. It should be time to eat,” she mumbled.
She left her bedroom and went into the main area. It was an open concept with only her bedroom and bathing room being separate. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. She had assumed ownership of it when she’d moved out of her foster parents’ home when she was in her early twenties. She hadn’t spoken to them in solars. She was the last child they had taken in. They had decided once she’d moved out that they wanted to relocate. They had left Soza about ten solars ago. They had been a good family who’d provided a safe space for her while away from her own family.
Her stew had simmered all day while she’d been at work. It should be good and ready for her to eat. She went over to the cast-iron pot resting above hot coals. She lifted the lid andgroaned. It was thick with root vegetables and spiced meat. She stirred it absently and thought of the elderly couple down the lane who always appreciated it when she brought them food. There was enough here to feed an army. She’d take them some tomorrow. Tonight, the storm was too fierce.
She would pair this with the bread Isha had made and shared with her. It would go perfectly. She stood to her full height and stretched.
A knock sounded at the door, startling her.
Orlena froze.
Who could that be in this weather?
She crept over to the front window and moved the curtain to the side. Her heart all but leaped into her throat as she looked out into the rain-soaked darkness. A tall figure stood just beyond the lantern light. Broad shoulders bowed beneath the downpour.
Could it be?
Her breath caught.
Another knock. This one more firm and unmistakable.
“Orlena,” a familiar voice came through the storm. “It’s me.”
Bula.
Orlena scurried over to the door. She unbarred it and pulled it open. Rain flew in, pelting her.
Bula stood drenched to the bone with her dark hair plastered to her face. Her cloak hung heavy with water. Her amber eyes locked in on Orlena. They were fierce but showed relief all at once at the sight of Orlena in her home.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Orlena blurted. She still stepped aside to let her in.
Bula’s larger frame came in, and immediately, her home felt too tiny.
“Someone could have seen you. You shouldn’t?—”
“We ate together in the middle of town,” Bula said quietly. She closed the door behind her and stood still, water dripping off her. “This isn’t so different.”
“It is.” Orlena spun on her heels and raced to her linen closet that was in the hall by her bathing room. She brought back thick towels for Bula. “This is my home. Someone is bound to talk.”
“Let them,” Bula growled. A scowl overtook her features.
Orlena went to stand in front of her with a handful of towels.
Bula’s expression softened as she took in Orlena. “Besides, I needed to come tonight.”
Orlena paused at the choice of words.
Needed.
She blinked and looked at Bula who resembled a drowned rat. She shook her head and tsked.
