Orc Bound Mates

Chapter Four

Staring at the space in front of me, I glance at Vlorg and Orguk. Skarr rouses from his spot on the oversized bed, stretching out his lithe body with a vast yawn full of glinting sharp teeth. He hops off the bed, pads over to the table, and headbutts Vlorg in the leg with a low grunt. Vlorg glances away from me to look at the wolf, wondering what the beast wants. Rising from his seat, Vlorg brushes the wolf out of his way as he goes to the front doors and opens one for him; Skarr bounds out through the open space.

Longing to be outside in the morning light and fresh breeze, I envy the wolf’s freedom. Knowing that I wouldn’t be safe running around alone, I take the chance that the guys want to be outside the confining space of the Longhouse as much as I do; I move to the end of the bench to get up. The Longhouse is a hell of a lot bigger than my studio apartment back home. Still, I always enjoyed going to the park or the apartment complex pool on my days off. Staying inside isn’t going to help my raging hormones, which flare to life around the sexy Orcs. Being inside the enclosed area leaves me very aware of every movement they make.

“Can we go out? Get some fresh air? Enjoy the sunlight for a bit?” I climb off the bench and step closer to the front doors. Hoping he would take the hint and open it for me as he did for Skarr. He does not. Vlorg stares at me for a long moment, his expression hinting that he doesn’t like the idea but relents.

“Yes, let us dress. Then we will venture out.” He nods to Orguk, who is already heading to the storage room with Vlorg following. They emerge with similar boots, shoulder paddings, and weapons like Borguk. Orguk straps an axe to his hip like his twin’s, where Borguk’s is a single-sided axe, and Orguk’s is a double-sided one with a longer handle. Vlorg’s weapon is a massive obsidian blade roughly shaped like a meat cleaver. The weapon is easily four feet long and razor-sharp. No doubt meant for two-handed wielding, but he holds it aloft in one before strapping it to his back. I glance down at myself and realize I’m all good to go, except I have no shoes. Looking around the room, I don’t see my flats from the night before.

“Do you know where my flats are? The shoes that I was wearing the other night?” I question, moving around the room and checking every corner. I don’t see them. Orguk plucks them from the storage space, handing them to me; I slip my feet into them. A little muddy but still wearable. Ready to leave, we head outside and into the refreshing morning air.

The morning light’s blissfully warm against my skin, the breeze smelling like wildflowers and the forest. Looking around the front of the Longhouse, I notice a colossal log fence circling the whole front of the building; it disappears behind the house's edge. If it wraps around entirely, the resemblance to the Orc strongholds in Skyrim would be uncanny. I’m not a big gamer, but the game's fantastical world and fascinating lore were always enjoyable pastimes. Smiling in amusement at the similarity, I eagerly search the area to see if I find other similarities. No forge, smelters, alchemy tables under small shelters, or guard stands along the perimeter.

What is within the fence seems oddly domestic in comparison. There is a large vegetable garden peeking around the right side of the Longhouse with even rows of sprouts. Next to the garden is a pleasant-looking pond that irrigates the field. Little fish nip the surface for food, and rocks line the edge to keep the pond clean. To the left side of the gate is a moderately sized animal pin with several fluffy beasts inside. The animals look like a mix between a sheep and cow, the coloration’s spotted like a cow, but they’re covered in fluffy wool like a sheep. The animals have a decent shelter against the high fence along the backside of their pin. To the left, directly in front of the corral, is a small half-building with a table in the middle and several nasty-looking knives hanging from the back wall. I'm assuming it's for processing the meat from the cow-sheep animals. Further left, almost parallel with the Longhouse, is a mammoth-sized bonfire pit with charred logs standing in the middle. Thick stone benches bracket three sides of the hole for the Orcs to sit on.

Not what I expected but still very cool.

I can’t stop the inner Skyrim nerd from enjoying the fantasy come to life. The Orcs watch me take in the area, my head swiveling around like a looney person.

We reach the gate and continue through an Orc-sized door built into the main French-styled gates. Once through, a new landscape greets me; a tall, dense forest wraps around a football stadium-sized meadow littered with wildflowers. Birds flit between the trees; small animals scamper in and out of the underbrush, and a lone antlered creature peeks between a set of trunks before disappearing back into the safety of the woods. The sight takes my breath away; I’ve never been so deep into any untamed wilderness. Back home, I lived in a major city in Florida and hardly had time to go hiking or camping once I became an adult. We used to go camping as a family when I was young. Still, my mother was a worry wart—always concocting crazy scenarios where we'd get attacked by a bear or lost in the woods. Her fears ensured we always went to small, maintained campgrounds.

“Oh wow! The landscape is so amazing!” I don’t hold the giggling bubble of joy that comes out, amazement coloring me pink by the wild beauty of the land. I tear my eyes away from the scene and check to see if Vlorg or Orguk are as riveted as I am. They are riveted not by the splendor of the land they live on but by the sight of me taking in their world, longing simmers in their gaze. Not the burning desire that has been the most present. I see a bottomless ocean of hope for more than a moment of pleasure.

“We are glad you find pleasure in the land we live. It brings us joy.” Orguk says thickly, his tone holding a note of reverence. Something is shifting inside me, leaning further away from my weak yearning to return home and more towards this new world. This mystical fantasy world where I don’t have to be a slave to my job and can possibly, make friends or family.

“Come, let us show you something I believe you will like.” Vlorg holds out his big hand for me to take, just like every time before I slip my hand into his. Orguk comes to my free side and reaches for my other hand tentatively, seeking permission. I smile up at him and take his hand, squeezing it firmly; the smile that spreads over his face is brilliant.

A loud rustle from the trees startles me, my heart kicking in alarm, and both hands tighten on mine for a moment before easing. I scan the trees; relief washes over me as Skarr breaks through the undergrowth, licking his chops. Spotting us near the fence line, he races over to us, sliding between Vlorg and me to nuzzle his head against my ribs. This close, he is easily four feet tall, probably eight feet long, and equally as dense as he leans his weight against me. If Vlorg didn’t have a hold of my hand, I would be tumbling over under the heft of the enormous friendly wolf.

My initial fear of him seems silly now. Having spent a little time with the gentle beast, I know he’s not going to hurt me. I busy myself with taking in everything I can, doing my best not to think about the heat crawling over my skin from the contact with the hands encasing mine. Skarr trots around our little trio as we start towards wherever Vlorg has in mind.

The walk is pleasant, with the air being warm and breezy, and the lulling sound of rushing water tickles my ears before the sight of a waterfall comes into view. I peer up to the top of the waterfall, trees laden with vines and a dense canopy cap each side of the flowing water. The falls rolling down the craggy rock wall splash into the prettiest lake I’ve ever seen. The meadow touches a third of the lake; a sprinkling of pine, cedar, and oak trees surround the rest. We stop where the field breaks off to a sandy shoreline and the crystal-clear water beyond.

“You’re wrong, Vlorg; I don’t like this lake.” I start and must hide my mirth behind an expressionless stare. Vlorg’s shoulders tense at my words, but I continue. “I love it!” I call, releasing their hands, slipping off my shoes, and running to the water's edge. The shore slopes gently to deeper water, so I hoist up the edges of my skirts and step into the crisp lake. Wiggling my toes in the silky sand, I relish the feeling before kicking water up into the air, laughing as the water sprays out and reflects rainbows in its mist. It has been too long since I let myself enjoy a moment as freeing as this. The clear, cerulean skies, refreshing water, and comfortable company have my heart weightless in my chest. My ribs are the only barrier keeping my heart from floating to outer space.

I hear them chuckling from where I left them several yards from the shore, and they seem content to watch me enjoying my little slice of happiness. After wading around the area for a while, I spot a pretty rock in the sand and pick it out. Holding it in my palm, I realize it’s not some rock but a gem. A glittering green gemstone smoothed over by years of flowing water, the color is nearly identical to Borguk’s eyes. Sparkling emerald, green.

Smiling, I leave the water and bring the gem to the guys to examine. They’re sitting on the ground; Vlorg’s sitting with one leg crossed over the other, Orguk leaning back against his elbows, both looking good enough to eat. Both of their weapons are lying on the ground next to them, within reach. Skarr rolls around in the grass behind them, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“I found a pretty stone; can I keep it?” Figuring this is part of their land, and anything in it is theirs, I ask to keep it. I kneel between them and hold the jewel out for them to inspect. Vlorg snorts after looking, and Orguk huffs a laugh.

“You can keep it. But it is not a stone; it is an emerald.” Vlorg bobs his head in the affirmative, smiling as my mouth hangs open, and I look at the gem again. Every emerald I've seen held the same hard-edged design and redundant shapes; this one is a perfectly smoothed-over oval gemstone.

“Are you sure? I didn’t realize it was a precious gemstone. This huge thing would be worth a small fortune back home.” Orguk is already nodding, and Vlorg gives an affirming grunt. I glance between them to ensure it’s okay to keep such a valuable jewel. A little embarrassed, I tuck the emerald into a small pocket at the waist of my borrowed dress.

I sit in the open space between them; my curiosity to know more about them and where they live takes up my thoughts. I shouldn’t care or want to know more, but this attraction between us makes me want to learn everything I can. I want to invest my time into building something phenomenal with them. In case I decide to stay or don’t have any way to get back home.

“I noticed that there aren’t any other Longhouses near here. Why is that?” I nibble my lower lip, lying on the soft grass to watch the clouds float lazily through the sky. Orguk moves in closer, joining me in my cloud gazing, his hand sliding into mine. His touch tingles against my palm, shivering up my arm, and goosebumps flare over my flesh.

All curious thoughts fall away as shudders tremble through my body at their closeness. Vlorg mirrors Orguk's actions on my free side. His massive hand engulfs mine with heat, a warm shoulder nestling into mine. Euphoric excitement washes over me at the close contact, their blazing bodies overheating me instantly.

“There are no other Orcs near our abode.” Vlorg’s voice is gruff with melancholy thoughts; he strokes his thumb over the back of my hand listlessly. Like he needs something to distract him from the heaviness of his thoughts.

“Unclaimed Orcs are to live at the edges of the Tribe’s territory. They are not permitted to stay in the village until they have found their female.” Orguk adds, his tone just as laden with heavy thoughts. He leans forward to brush his nose against my shoulder, wanting to connect more of his body to mine.

“I don’t understand. Why are unclaimed Orcs not allowed in the village?” I focus on the clouds to avoid staring at them, not wanting to intrude on their feelings. I take my time, enjoying how the fluffy white clouds lazily dance through the sky—merging into one before splitting off into many.

“Orcs without a female bound to them are a risk. They,” He pauses to correct his words. “We have nasty tempers,” Vlorg explains, exhaling a heavy sigh. “We are prone to fights with bonded males.” The pain in his voice breaks my heart. The Orcs send away their unclaimed males keeping them from their friends and family on the off chance that they decide to steal another male’s female.

“Bonded males are weary of Orcs without their own bonded female. Worried they may try to steal their female away. As they do in other tribes.” Orguk adds, tightening his grip on my hand.

“Does that happen in your tribe a lot? How long have you been out here on your own?” I probe gently, trepidation edging my heart at the thought of another Orc stealing me away from my Orcs. Orguk rolls towards me onto his side; he brings our joined hands up to his chest and presses them over his heart.

“It does not. No Orc in our tribe has stolen another Orc’s female. But we Orc are very territorial over our females.” He growls next to my ear; a shiver rakes my body. Combined with the hard c**k pressing into my hip, it has molten desire pooling in my core.

“Orcs are sent away from the village when we come of age at sixteen winters. We are only permitted to return once we have claimed a female. Many of us prefer the quiet seclusion even after bonding with our female.” Vlorg continues as he rolls into me, his erection rubbing against my other hip.

“How old are you? When are your birthdays?” I manage to ask through the hazy desire, clamping my thighs together to find relief from the building ache in my p***y.

“I am 29 winters old,” Vlorg responds, prick twitching at the movement of my thigh against him.

“Borguk and I are 25 Summers old. What is a birthday?” I glance between them and bite my lip to hold back a moan at the burning hunger in their eyes. Orguk grinds himself against me, and I’m having difficulty focusing on the conversation.

The moment breaks as they simultaneously react to something, rolling away from me, weapons snatched from the ground and ready to defend me. I lurch upright, scooting back as I turn to see what drew their attention. They relax as Borguk comes into view, and I force my heart rate to slow. My cunt throbbing at the interruption to our progress of what was, no doubt, going to be a wonderfully satisfying encounter.

Taking a deep breath to get some control over my raging horniness, I exhale shakily. The protective males allow their weapons to slip back to the ground; Orguk looks back at me, his head tilting to one side. “What is a birthday, Alexa? How old are you?”

“A birthday is a day you were born; I was born on April 4th, 1991. I’m 27 Springs old. Do you not know what day in the year you were born?” I question, refocusing on the conversation as Borguk reaches our little group near the lake. He is panting softly, catching his breath after running here from the far side of the clearing.

“We do not know what a year is or the number of the day we were born. We only know the season.” Vlorg informs, relaxing back down, watching me as I ogle the way Borguk’s thick chest moves with little beads of sweat trickling into the crevices of his muscles. Shaking my head at the visual distraction ramping up my already soaring excitement, I turn back to Vlorg.

“How do you keep track of the time and days? Wait, how do you celebrate the day you were born each year?” The thought of them not getting a gift or celebrating the day they were born makes me a little sad. I want to celebrate their days with them. The thought makes me realize that a part of my mind is adjusting more to staying here with them after one night. I should be worried about finding my way home, not the birthdays of Orcs from another world. My heart lurches at the idea of leaving.

“We do not celebrate every year. Only when we have reached sixteen seasons, then our parents send us off to live alone.” Orguk shrugs his shoulder, a small smile tugging his lips. “Or with your brothers. We were fortunate. Some Orc pairings only have one offspring.”

“We have been fortunate; Vlorg had already built the Longhouse and safeguards. We did not need to struggle to survive. Some Orcs die when they leave the village. Our sires train and teach us how to live in the wilds, but the wilds can be dangerous.” Borguk comments in the conversation sitting on the ground with us, cross-legged in front of me. He smiles wide. “Our request for an audience with the Chieftain has been granted. He expects us tomorrow after sunrise. Mother will be there as well.” He looks between his brothers and me, a meaningful look in his eyes. I can’t figure out what the expression means, but his brothers grunt in understanding.

“That’s … great news,” I say, unsure if I’m genuinely looking forward to finding a way home. The more time I spend with these Orcs, the more I feel connected to them. I don’t look at any of them as I lose myself in thought, the illogical and logical parts of my mind warring with what I should do. I can hear them speaking to each other, but the words don’t register. I can’t stop my mind from whirling around the idea of leaving them; they are so sweet and caring from what I have seen. Mischievous at times but so endearing. The logical part argues that I know nothing about them; they’re a different species. They are from another world I have found myself in, not to mention there are three of them. I could never keep one human man happy; why am I entertaining the idea that I can manage three?

A hand on my thigh has me jerking out of my spiral, snapping my attention to startling green eyes. “What?” I blink away the fog clogging my brain and refocus on the here and now. I don’t think about all the ‘what ifs’ fighting for attention inside my head.

“You seem tired. Let us return to the Longhouse and relax by the fire.” Vlorg wears a look of concern on his face, the twitch of his lips ghosting a hint of a smile. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Rest will be helpful.” He encourages.

“Sounds good. Let’s go.” I agree, gathering my feet beneath me and getting ready to stand up. The guys are already standing before I can get myself situated, two warm hands outstretched for me. I take the assistance offered, and we start on the short journey to return to the Longhouse.