Chapter 655: Thanks for the drink

In about ten minutes, Mason fey-warped across the world, then shifted to his hybrid eagle form and flew to the orc tower outside what used to be Sanctuary. The orc guards all pointed and stared, racing about at the bottom. It was cute that they thought there was anything they could do about him.

He took a moment to enjoy the view of the forest and surrounding area from the air, then landed on the side of the white tower, climbing to a locked window with claws and talons. He wasn’t sure what would happen, but smiled when the dungeon prompt flashed as he broke the lock.

A quick blip of changing reality, and he was inside a plush, fancy looking bedroom. A few rich looking orcs stared, then started screaming. Then some servants.

He ignored them and raced through the halls with his Wayfinder open, going past Blake’s angry construct guards without slowing down. They waddled after him making bleeping sounds.

He easily broke through a few locked gates and climbed, eyes roaming, smelling and watching everything. The tower went into some kind of lock down mode, but he didn’t care about that, either. He knocked aside a few orc guards. He broke a couple constructs out of principle.

Each staircase only went up one floor, so he had to cross each level to reach the next set of stairs. He’d started fairly high, and nothing could stop him, but it meant he set off a lot more useless shouting and screaming.

In under five minutes, he was on the top of the ‘dungeon’, ready to rip apart the boss. At least if he was so inclined.

Instead he stopped and planned to knock. A demonstration that he could reach and murder the tower lady whenever he wanted was really all he’d needed. But as he stood there with a raised fist he smelled something…familiar. He froze, sifting through the usual orc scents, the more pleasant aromas of the lady herself.

There was a human. Female. Something he’d smelled before.

Potentially bringing his women here already had his paranoid and violent instincts taking over. But that smell made little hairs rise on his arms and neck. Whatever his little plans were vanished with the urge to hunt.

He shattered the wooden door into splinters and rushed inside. Another rich room. Comfortable furniture and smoke from a pleasant fire. More feminine screams rose as he crossed the plush rugs. He ignored the serving girls and the royal orc as he hunted his prey.

He found Seul-ki. Undisguised. Beautiful and small and afraid. With nowhere to go.

She stood from a cushy chair with wide eyes as he slid to a stop. She held up her arms as if to defend herself, recognition in her dark eyes. But there was no stopping him. Not for any living thing left on the prime.

He’d knocked a chair flying and had her by the throat before she finished whatever she’d been intending. He leaned closer and sniffed. He heard himself growl, fangs bared as a few drops of spit dripped onto the girl’s cheek.

“L-lord Mason? Is that you? What’s…why are you…what’s the meaning of this?”

Blake’s royal orc mistress swallowed and held out a hand like it might calm him, coming closer as if she could help. As if she could do something.

“You poisoned my wife,” he snarled in Seul-ki’s ear. “You gave the names of my people to that monster. You helped him in the last battle. You’re a traitor. And if you’d succeeded, you would have doomed the whole human race. Do you understand that?”

Seul-ki tried and failed to speak. She gaped like a fish for air and he did his best to ease the grip on her throat. But he was tempted just to squeeze a little harder and be done with it. The only thing that stopped him was another familiar scent that made it clear one thing wasn’t a lie: she was pregnant. But was it Blake’s child?

“Jeong was…my brother.”

Seul-ki didn’t bother gripping his hands. She just met his eyes like he should understand. Maybe he did. But it didn’t mean she got a pass. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, his hands on Seul-ki’s neck, the orc saying meaningless soothing words. He heard all the constructs he’d blown by thudding their way up towards him.

He took a deep breath. Then a few more. Haley wouldn’t want this. Seul-ki was harmless now, no threat to him at all. And Blake was right—she still might be useful in the final battle.

A sense of…justice was lacking. Maybe it was revenge. But it could wait. If the world wasn’t destroyed, she could have her baby. The system would likely tell them who’s it was. Then maybe she and Mason would have another reckoning.

He eased his grip and stepped away, the sudden urge for his women and a few plates of meat. Anything but the thought of ripping Seul-ki to shreds and holding her up like a scarecrow for traitors.

“If you want to have any guards left,” he growled, “I’d call off those bumbling statues. And the trembling orcs building up their courage outside.”

He realized the orc had put on some kind of power-like augment. She was glowing with magic, like she was ready to fight him personally. He almost laughed. Her eyes flared, and he heard the statues stop and start going back to where they came from.

The few orc guards finally came rushing in with weapons drawn, mostly tripping over each other and clearly no idea what to do. Mason rolled his eyes and sat in the nearest chair.

“I’d like a drink. Something strong, preferably. We should discuss the wedding.”

Blake was right about one thing—it was sometimes fun to have people completely at a loss. The orc—Ilya, maybe?—looked about as confounded as her guards. She eventually got them to relax and wait outside, then did something to heal the red marks around Seul-ki’s neck. She was doing her best to salvage whatever insanity she thought this was.

Mason watched without a word. It annoyed him to see the marks disappear. They’d made him feel better, and if he wanted her unharmed he would have left her that way.

But the orc servants got him his drink. Then the tower lady sat at her desk and took a breath, looking flustered, but in control of herself. Like she understood the situation, and was moving it all in the right direction now. That annoyed him, too.

“So. The wedding. You and your family are invited, of course. I apologize for whatever offense has been caused. I didn’t know our guest was your…that you had a conflict. Where is Blake?”

He stared and said nothing, enjoying the scent of her fear. Even now he could picture that dark night in the forest—orcs like her almost destroying the people of Nassau. Orcs that had attacked from these very towers, riding snakes and trying to murder all their men, and take their civilian women as sex slaves.

“I’m a king now, orc.”

His tone was not polite. The idea that she was trying to ‘manage’ him like his brother might nearly sent him on another mission of violence. But he restrained himself.

“I have only one brother, and he has no title. That means you should have asked my permission. Maybe you won’t be getting married at all.”

**

Mason felt a little bad when the undeniably human-looking and attractive tower lady looked ready to cry. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. When she recovered, she immediately started apologizing about not understanding human politics, and that she would do whatever was required.

So she was reasonable. And polite. And seemed to him authentic, which was basically his impression of her the first time they’d met, too. That made him feel worse. After Seul-ki slunk off to a corner and got out of his line of sight, he’d basically relaxed.

His urge for violence fell away. He was about to ask for somewhere to bath when he realized he could maybe Shapeshift without it. And sure enough, he shifted back to his fully human form with no real effort or cooldown. Wild Shape was a hell of a thing.

Being human helped. Or at least it decreased the urge to shred tiny little creatures with his talons and toss them around like bait. He finished his drink. He tried some orc snacks.

“Alright.” He took a breath when he felt himself again. “I’m not going to stop the wedding. And if I don’t stop a thing that means I have to approve it or else I look weak. Or so some god taught me. So I’ll bring a hundred humans and we’ll shower you with gifts. And then we’ll all be one big, weird, happy family. If that meets your approval.”

Ilya’s eyes went all watery again. She looked embarrassed as one spilled, and she wiped at her cheek and messed up some make-up.

“Yes. Of course it does. Thank you, King Mason. Truly.”

He sighed, because he really had to work on his weakness of vulnerable, emotional women. She was an orc tower lord. And she wasn’t even human for Christ’s sake. But he still felt like he’d kicked a puppy.

“I’m sorry for all the drama,” he added, despite himself. “I’m not used to…well. I have to fight everything all the time. It makes me paranoid. And probably rude. My wife says I should be nicer.” He shrugged and felt ridiculous. “Seul-ki’s safe now. Just…keep her away from me. And I’m sure Blake will be here soon. We want to do this today. As soon as possible.”

“Today?” Ilya looked at him hopefully, like she might have misheard. When he nodded she slumped and shrugged like what could she do? “I’m sure we can…make the arrangements.” She perked up when she seemed to realize the result of a fast wedding. “I look forward to merging our families, my lord. It will be a great honor to be allied to the House of Mason.”

Right, he thought. Family marriage equals allies. Medieval rules shit.

And he had no doubt she was honored. Especially seeing as how it would scare the ever loving piss out of every other orc and whatever else might decide to mess with her.

But he supposed if he could make peace in the orc towers, that was a good thing. He wasn’t sure how much help the creatures would be when the final battle came, but having something was better than nothing. And they were close enough to Nassau to coordinate efforts.

“Well.” He stood. “Thanks for the drink. Sorry about the chair. And the door. And a few of the constructs. Also I sort of scared a lot of your people on the way up.”

“Please.” Ilya stood, looking somewhere between awkward and grateful and still vaguely frightened. “Don’t trouble yourself.”

She stood and came around the desk, then took his hand and put it to her forehead in some gesture. She held on and met his eyes with a very intense sort of meaningful expression, her other hand on her visibly pregnant stomach. Apparently orc babies grew fast. Of course they did.

“I promise to bare your brother strong children. And to be a valuable ally.” She cut her thumb on one of her tusks, and wiped her blood over her own forehead.

Mason wasn’t entirely sure he could cut himself without a Claw. And he had no desire to do it anyway.

“Yeah.” He gently pat her hand. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Be back in a few hours.”

He gave a smaller than usual Seul-ki one last look. Then he opened the nearest window, and leapt straight out for the dungeon prompt.