Twins for the Wild Orc

“I’m staying,” she affirms. “I know you don’t believe my words, but I plan on showing you with my actions.”

Then she stands and fixes another plate for herself and places it on the table. She takes Owen from me and I reach down toward the bouncer and take Bran back into my owns arms. Soon we both have a happy baby on our lap and are quietly eating.

Chapter 7

Whelan

After I finish my meal, scraping every last bit of food off my plate, that somehow tastes more amazing because she made it, I place Owen in a bouncer and stand up to tidy the kitchen and separate the trash from recyclables.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” my female exclaims. “I was about to clean.”

I give her a sharp glance. “No, remain seated. I will clean. Females at our commune sit and relax with our offspring. I am grateful you offered to cook, therefore I will always clean afterwards. This is the way in our commune.”

“Oh. Okay…Are you saying that orc males always do the cleaning?”

“Yes.”

“The laundry, the sweeping, the bathroom cleaning…?”

“All of it,” I confirm.

She sits and watches me with mouth agape.

Afterwards we end up in the nursery together because the babies look sleepy.

My female shows me what she brought with her from her home in California or purchased just prior to arriving at the commune. Most of it appears superfluous, similar to the appearance of that over-the-top coffee maker. But I do appreciate that my sons have all the clothing they could possibly require, in fact she’s even purchased clothing for them for when they grow older, at six months and nine months. “You’re a good pla

Her cheeks flush with color. And I want to pull her into my arms, but I refrain. Because I still can’t trust her.

She stands next to the crib I crafted, ru

“I did.”

“It’s nice…”

“Thank you.”

I notice then that Owen and Bran are turning restless. “They need to be fed again,” I a

“Already? How do you know?”

“Orc fathers and sons have a special bond. I can sense their needs easily. They are going to be very hungry at first because they are in fact small for their age and need refeeding.”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to go again because I just expressed…”

“We’ll use bottles of breast milk.”

“I’m not sure they’ll take it.”

“They will.” I stomp into the front room with both of my sons in my arms and my female follows behind closely. She cuts in front of me and opens the fridge and takes out two bottles. Then we both sit side by side on the couch in the front room. I take Owen and she takes Bran. And they each easily take a bottle from our hands and noisily begin to feed.

“Oh my gosh, they’ve never drank a bottle from my hand, they always refused. It’s nice knowing I can take a break sometimes or that others can feed them too, not just me.” She looks at me with watery eyes. “You have no idea what an upgrade this is.”

I glance down, trying to hide my smile. I can’t help but be pleased at the thought of her life being easier. Even if she is most likely still pla

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“I tended to my brother often when he was a baby. And I’ve tended to many other babies. There was a baby I fostered for a few months before its father was found at the commune in Siberia. I’m good with babies.”

She grins. “They give the babies to the wildest orc on the commune?”

“I might appear fierce, but I have a soft heart for infants. All orcs feel this way.”

“And I hope orcs like Halloween as much as they like babies. Do they trick or treat around here?”

“No, that is a strange human tradition that we do not yet participate in.”

“That’s too bad. It’s fun.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Do you have to go to work today?” Drew questions.

“No. I am here, bonding with my sons. Rogan and the others are giving us alone time.”

“You’re bonding with only your sons?” she smirks. “What about me too?”

And that’s when I realize she’s so close to me while she feeds our son that our hips and legs are pressed together. A grumble erupts in my chest.

She glances out the window. “I’m surprised no one has entered the cabin. There were a lot of orcs hovering around me when I first arrived, and it’s been so quiet.”

“They see that you remain unharmed and chose to sleep next to me. And you haven’t left yet. I also took my sons outside this morning to meet with their family again.”

“Oh, you went out with the boys to talk to Rogan, Urdan and Kelt this morning while I slept? You should’ve invited them inside. I could’ve made breakfast for them too.”

“You know my father and the others?”

“Of course, I do. I met them when I first arrived yesterday. I’m happy I was able to meet the babies’ grandfather and your best friend and Urdan. They weren’t going to let me in at first because they thought you’d be dangerous for me, but I told them I understood and accepted the risk and still wanted inside. Also, I wasn’t leaving my babies behind. That was no

“That wasn’t a good idea. They were right. I could have hurt you. You were lucky I picked up the scent of our sons first and calmed slightly. What if I’d first stormed to the bedroom?”

She meets my gaze. “I was certain you wouldn’t hurt me.”

I shake my head at this foolish statement. “Human, I’m a wild orc. I’m the tallest, largest male on the commune with the sharpest horns. I live in this private wooded corner of the commune because my appearance often scares the other females. My primitive urges are right there, under the surface.”

“I still knew it would be okay.” She snuggles deeper into my side. “You know, one of the first questions they asked me when I arrived was if I was basically disgusted or happy to have given birth to orc babies, which I thought was a weird question.”

I nod. “We always ask this because it is common for humans to be horrified to have given birth to infants they consider monsters. It lets us know if this is a quick handover and how to proceed.”

She lets out a squeak of dismay. “It happens all the time?”

“Yes, it does. But I sense your love for our sons,” I tell her. “Your bond with them is strong and I also sense they deeply love you in return.”

“They do? Oh my babies,” she croons. “I love them both so much.” Then she rests her cheek on my shoulder, adjusts the baby in her arms, tilts the bottle higher, and keeps talking. “I told Rogan and the others that I wanted to stay at the commune. I can’t leave Bran and Owen behind. I know you don’t truly believe me, but these are my sons. Yes, I had an epic one-night stand with a scary orc and found out later my birth control didn’t work. But I decided, after careful thought, that I was financially and emotionally ready and could do this alone. Sorry, but I wasn’t ready for an orc who might kidnap me as my husband.”

I sit in silence, frowning, amazed at her ability to keep up her fake story of how I threatened to kidnap her. I’d never do such a thing. And every time she reminds me of this falsehood, I’m thrown back into remembering this gorgeous female who emanates thick arousal for me and obviously loves my sons—isn’t trustworthy. Which hurts. How is it possible for this human to claim I threatened to kidnap her, which caused her to run from me and keep my infants from me at first. How can she want me as a husband at the same time? Humans make no sense.