How to Claim a Human Mate (Monstery Yours #6)

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How to Claim a Human Mate (Monstery Yours #6) Page 4

by S. J. Sanders


  “What is that?” a deep voice demands from just beside me.

  It comes so unexpected and from so close that I nearly spill my drink as I jerk back in surprise. Swinging around, my eyes lands on a richly embroidered forest green tunic and go up and up to meet the startling bright green eyes of a very blue orc. A hint of gray makes his coloring appear like a stormy sky. A long, drawn-out rumble fills the air as his nostrils flare and he drags in the scent, his eyes closing as a look of hunger comes over his face. When he opens them again, that expression remains, but seems to intensify as his eyes slide over me appreciatively. His eyes practically glow in a way that’s unnerving.

  “I’ve never scented anything so wonderful. I would have the name… and the name of the drink too,” he adds with a flirtatious smile.

  Beside me, I hear Kassie give a strangled gasp and my grip tightens on her arm when I feel her attempt to slip away. I certainly don’t want to be left alone with him! She squeaks slightly when she realizes that I’m holding her prisoner against my side, her body stumbling into me in the process. I am terrified beneath the full force of his interest, every instinct within me warning me to run far away from this male who would undoubtedly capture me.

  A male who would use me up without qualms because it pleases him to. My eyes drop, noting the revealing cut of his tunic and tight breeches that display every contour of his body and the impressive bulge of his cock, and my lip curls. He even smells good, like some sort of expensive cologne combining cypress and vanilla. His tusks even have gold bands ringing them. Everything about his look is clearly cultivated to attract females, even the slight salt and pepper at his temples giving him a distinguished, mature look. And he’s doing a fine job at it. A quick glance around confirms there’s more than one admiring look being directed his way.

  It seems even among orcs, a woman can’t get away from fuckboys.

  I haven’t the time or patience for such bullshit, and I’m angry that I haven’t been able to enjoy more than ten minutes in the market before attracting it.

  “This,” I say, shoving the cup into his face, “is my coffee. My business is making it for customers who pay. As for who I am… unless you have some inside source to get me a trade permit to set up a test shop here in the market, it’s none of your business,” I snap with a boldness that shocks even me.

  The saner part of my brain starts screaming that he’s going to kill me as his eyes narrow and his head lowers to meet my gaze. The less sane parts note that he’s surprisingly clean shaven unlike many of the orc males I’ve spotted in the square, and that his wonderful smell is thicker and even more delicious up close. My belly quivers, but I set my jaw as I glare up at him.

  His head cocks, his eyes glittering with an expression that I swear is fascination. “Very well,” he purrs. “If it is permissions you are wanting, come right this way.”

  Straightening, he steps back and pushes through the crowd. At first, I stare after him, certain that I hallucinated those words until Kassie tugs my arm and I notice that he’s stopped and has turned, looking back at us as he waits patiently.

  “Oh my gods,” I whisper.

  “‘Oh my gods’ is right,” Kassie hisses. “Since you’ve risked our lives enough for one morning, hurry up and get moving before you waste the opportunity and he changes his mind!”

  Nodding mutely, I follow him with Kassie pressed close beside me as we push our way once more through the crowd. Once he’s certain that we can keep up, he turns and resumes walking again with his long, speedy strides, not even attempting to keep his pace reasonable for us.

  I hope he’s able to help us, or else I’m going to murder him for dragging us through the market at this ridiculous pace. With a quick inquiry to Kassie to make sure she’s okay, we follow him to the keep looming closer ahead of us.

  No sweat. I’m sure all village business is handled there.

  I certainly hope that’s the case.

  Chapter 5

  Bodi

  My skin prickles with awareness as I feel the female watching me with a scathing intensity. I don’t know why she pretends to dislike me so, but that knowledge does nothing to cool my libido. As far as my body is concerned, she is perfection, scowls and all. In fact, the fiercer her look, the more my lust spikes.

  It’s an orc thing, and one that I am quite certain would confuse her if she knew.

  She’s intoxicating, this nameless female.

  I grin as she shoots me a venomous look before returning her attention to Orgath as he silently considers her request. The throne room is modest for the keep, just big enough to hold the simple, high-backed wooden bench with plush blue cushions that Orgath and his mate sit upon together and no more than twenty individuals. Gone are all the overdone embellishments that Lorf, his predecessor, had enjoyed.

  It speaks to much of his rule, as solid and strong as the bare rock walls adorned with nothing but simple clan tapestries that hangs on two walls. If anything, his surroundings make our chieftain look all the more imposing, despite his own dark blue tunic that lacks any embroidery or embellishment. His hair, like mine, is beginning to silver, making his braids almost shimmer in the firelight, but his yellow eyes are sharper than ever, and the gold caps on his tusks that declare his position as chieftain make them appear even more prominent.

  At his side, Sammi’s small body is nestled close to him. She has grown lusher with the years after bearing many orclings to our chieftain, her red-gold hair showing its own threads of gray. She remains his only weakness. The one arm he often keeps curled around her is testimony to his protectiveness. That protectiveness has become a symbol to the clan of his benevolent kindness.

  Now he holds her cup in his hand, his brow dipped low in thought. He has been enjoying the brew as we talk, and I’m jealous.

  The word coffee had jogged my memory of a delicious drink I had enjoyed many years ago there. I covet another taste of it almost as much as I desire a taste of her. Unfortunately, I know one of those desires will not be satisfied because she’s given the coffee over to the chieftain for his enjoyment as he debates her request. It is a sensible move on her part, still I can’t help but feel jealous that she offered it to my cousin rather than me.

  One of the guards beside me takes a covert sniff in her direction, and I can tell from his gaze that it has nothing to do with the cup of coffee that Orgath holds in his hand. The male is staring directly at her—the female I saw first.

  I growl quietly, just loud enough to be audible to those standing closest to me. He jerks back and flicks wary eyes my way as the rest of the guard around us stiffens, their eyes fastening upon us. I ignore them, baring my tusks at him in a silent threat. As far as threats go, it is a subtle one, but one that no male in the clan would ignore. It indicates that he better keep his nose—and the rest of the body it is attached to—away from the female I’ve staked interest in. He is welcome to challenge me for courting rights, of course. Thankfully, the guards under my command are not idiots. He dips his head quickly and averts his gaze away from the human females.

  “Don’t you think that was a bit much?” a quiet voice inquires just behind my shoulder.

  I don’t need to look back to know that my brother Garval stands there, towering over me. He would be far more difficult to best if he had a mind to challenge me, but unlike many orcs, he has a mellower personality. And besides, he’s not looking at my female but at the small, round red-haired human standing by her side. His nostrils flare, desire clouding his eyes before it banks out beneath his rigid self-control. I snort to myself, not understanding my brother’s habit of self-denial.

  He would rather wait forever, hoping that he might attract the attentions of that female than make a move to claim her. I think it is foolish. Now that I have that female’s scent, she’s mine as far as I’m concerned, bloodbonded or not.

  I suspect that in that way I’m more like my cousin, Orgath, than my brother—just, minus the merciless cunning. I can be ruthless enough; I j
ust prefer to carry out everything in a very direct manner. The same applies to mating. I haven’t the patience for complex wooing strategies. Instead, my plan is simple: warn off the competition and press my courtship until she accepts my claim. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that, although I can see already that my brother doesn’t agree with my plan.

  “Not at all,” I rumble back in a quiet voice. “It is just enough to get my intentions across now before anyone makes an attempt to court my female. I would hate to damage any of my guard if it can be avoided.”

  My brother huffs, and I turn my head just enough to catch him rolling his eyes skyward in silent prayer.

  “I don’t suppose it would occur to you that maybe she is not interested. She looks like she wishes to murder you rather than mate you.”

  “Yes, and that makes it all the more exciting,” I agree. “I rouse her passions. I just need to get the right ones working in my favor.”

  “You’re disturbing,” he mutters, and I chuckle.

  “I’m an orc who has scented the female he wishes to claim for his mate. It’s only natural,” I counter easily. “I am certain she feels it too. I knew from the moment our eyes met in the market.” I nearly purr when she gives me another sharp glance. “You see? She can’t keep her eyes off me.”

  My female. My mate. Mine, all mine!

  After all this time waiting, I’ve found my mate. I’m sure of it, and I’m nearly as certain that she may be my bloodbound. There is no reason I would feel so strongly if she weren’t. I would decimate the entire guard for her if I was pushed to.

  Garval makes an impolite gagging sound at the back of his throat that make my fingers curl into a fist. If I were a lesser male, younger and more given to my impulses, I might have chopped him in the neck for that, but I choose to ignore him instead, my gaze devouring my female.

  “Very well,” Orgath agrees at last, no doubt due to his mate’s prodding. As reluctant as he sounds, Sammi looks particularly gleeful at his side, and his expression softens. “You have permission to set up a temporary stall in the square. At the end of the harvest festival, we will meet again to discuss whether a permanent establishment will benefit Obrul-tarin. Your coffee is at very least as pleasing as I remembered,” he said.

  “Thank you, Chieftain,” she says with a small bow.

  He nods, his lips twitching once. “And what is your name, female?”

  “Lynn Bi… I mean, Lynn Taylor. And this is my friend Kassie Edwards,” she adds, gesturing to the silent female beside her.

  Orgath nods in greeting to both females, though the latter seems intent on looking anywhere and everywhere but at him, and my mind caresses that singular sweet name.

  Lynn. I mouth her name quietly to myself, enjoy the sound of it warming my mind. The sound of her name is fair, like something in one of the elvish tongues. Of course my lovely female would have a beautiful name.

  “I wish you success with your venture, Lynn Taylor,” he says sincerely, and clasps his mate’s hand. “My mate, Sammi, desires more humans to keep company with and more of the things she enjoyed from your world. If you are successful and provide at least the latter, I will be grateful.”

  A pink hue spreads over her cheeks, and I worry that my female is embarrassed except that she grins broadly and nods her head.

  “I will attempt to do exactly that,” she promises. “Thank you for the opportunity. I’ve taken up enough of your time, so with your permission I will go enjoy the rest of your lovely market.”

  Orgath’s smile becomes more indulgent and filled with pride. Since coming to rule, the market, especially during our festivals, have grown exponentially as he used the ties developed among other species to further the prosperity of our clan in ways none of his predecessors would have dreamed to. The recent addition of human tourism is just another extension of that work. One that seems quite promising for our village, with all the wealth the humans bring into our clan from Ov’Ge.

  “Yes, do enjoy it,” he agrees. “And take one of my guards with you to assist you in case you have any questions. He will assist you for the duration of your week.”

  I grin triumphantly. That’s the opening I need. The only excuse I need to make sure that I’m by her side. I’m not surprised, however, that she resists his offer as she casts a wary glance at me.

  “Oh, I don’t know if that’s necess…” she starts to object, but our chieftain cuts her off.

  “It is necessary,” Orgath sternly interrupts. “If you choose to start a business here, you will need someone dependable to assist you in getting settled into the market and securing reasonable prices from our shops and sellers. For the week you are here, you are Clan Obrul, and I will not have anyone taking advantage of you.”

  I step forward and incline my head. “I will be pleased to assist the females during the first half of the day. The guard can be trusted to look after themselves for the first few hours, at least during the market hours. I will return before the shift change and then spend the rest of the afternoon seeing to my regular duties.”

  My cousin regards me thoughtfully. “Adjusting your schedule like that will make for long days. It is a big sacrifice, Bodi.”

  I shrug. “It is, as you say, only for a week. Sleep can come later. I assume, after the week is over, that accommodations would be arranged for a safe, permanent workspace for her.”

  Orgath inclines his head in agreement. “You assume correctly. Very well. Alter your schedule accordingly. You will be assigned to accompany Lynn and her friend for the duration of their visit.”

  “Wait, why him?” Lynn object, shooting me an annoyed look that makes my pulse stutter with adoration. “Why can’t I pick which of the guards babysits me?”

  The chieftain’s eyebrows rise curiously. “You are familiar enough with my guard and orcs in general that you can choose a male or female from among them who would be best suited to assist you?”

  The pink in her cheeks darkens, and this time I know she’s embarrassed. I give a warning growl, and my cousin’s gaze is sharp when it lands on me, forcing me to swallow the territorial sound. Not that my female noticed the exchange, even if the rest of the guard did and is staring at me in shock. She is too busy scowling down at her shoes as she shakes her head. If she heard my growl at all, she likely assumed it came from him.

  “No,” she admits with a huff of exasperation. When she raises her gaze again, her expression is chagrined. “You’re right. Okay, if you’re confident that this… Bodi… is the right orc for the job, I guess I can’t object to it.”

  My skin prickles at the sound of my name falling off her lips. The moment is ruined, however, when Sammi laughs at her obvious reluctance.

  “He’s not so bad,” Sammi assures her, this time drawing some laughter from the guard.

  I cast the guard a dark look before striding over to my female’s side. My Lynn. She doesn’t look at me again before she strides out of the room with her distracted companion in tow, leaving me to trail behind, but I don’t mind. I like to watch her bottom wiggle beneath her loose pants as she walks, her hips swinging enticingly. My mouth salivates as I imagine stroking my tongue along her bottom and over each hip.

  Her awareness of my presence snaps in the air between us, but still she is determined to ignore me as she stalks back down to the market. It is as if she is challenging my determination to claim her with every delectable stride.

  Oh, my lovely female, I’m definitely up to the challenge.

  Chapter 6

  Lynn

  The flirtatious idiot trailing after us is staring at my ass. I can feel his eyes boring into my bottom with every step. I don’t know what to make of him. It’s not like I don’t feel an undeniable pull to him, but after getting out of one bad relationship, I’m not so stupid as to eagerly jump into another just because of an impressively strong case of lust. Especially not with another high-maintenance male.

  Gods save me from the perfectly tailored and groomed males
who spend more time on their appearance than I have the patience or desire for.

  At least he’s no longer leading us in a breakneck speed that made me want to throttle him for the discomfort he was carelessly putting Kassie through. Finding out after arriving at the keep that we just barely made it in time to see the chieftain had taken some of the sting out of my anger. I’m just glad that he’s now content to let us set the pace rather than put us at another grueling rush through the crowds.

  Thank goodness for that. I certainly don’t want Kassie to be dropping her baby early and here of all places where there’s zero technology to help her out. Now that he’s following leisurely behind us, I seem to be all the more aware of him at the knife’s edge of arousal. It’s highly uncomfortable, like an itch under the taunts and teases, but horribly elusive, just as his sweet, warm scent inspires new surges of desire every time he is close enough for it to wash over me.

  I really dislike how good he smells, and the way his closeness makes my stomach knot up with a sexual tension. It makes it too easy to forget that he’s a shameless flirt, or the fact that I’m angry at his decision to just haul us through the market to thrust us before his chieftain with absolutely no warning. I’m grateful, but at the same time, that was the most uncomfortable couple of hours of my life with zero opportunity to prepare, outside of the short presentation I had worked out. Bodi’s high-handed manner is definitely not attractive.

  Fuck, why do I even try to lie to myself? He’s insanely attractive in a brutish sort of way, but experience has taught me that it’s also very bad for me. If I had to be attracted to an orc, why couldn’t it be one of the rugged, solid orcs that are everywhere instead of this strutting peacock?

  Casually, I allow my gaze to roam over the market, determined to look anywhere but back toward him, and my eyes happen to settle on a muscular orc with an ashen complexion. Dark hair spills over his shoulder as he bends down to heave up an enormous crate of produce onto his shoulder. The display is impressive. His bared muscles, while no larger than Bodi’s, bulge prominently with the sweat of honest work. He’s romance novel cover-worthy.

 

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