“Yes, with his own hands. It’s an orc tradition.”
It hits me hard then that Whelan Overlook really did know the whole time I was pregnant, and he wanted his babies as much as I did. And I kept them from him on the other side of the country. I sit down heavily in a rocker in the corner. I look down at Bran’s precious green features, reminding myself that they are only three months old.
I can fix this.
Whelan can have all the time he wants, being with them, giving them bottles, getting them washed and dressed and changing their diapers and holding them in his arms. He wasn’t able to be there to watch me carry them or for their birth, but he can still be with them now, when they are still small. And he’ll have his sons by his side always to watch their growth for the rest of their lives.
Rogan stands patiently beside me, holding Owen, his other hand on my shoulder as I cry. “My son did a good job with this nursery,” he comments. “The only problem is that Whelan thought you were carrying one child. He didn’t account for twins.”
I use the back of my hand to swipe at my tears. “Good thing I brought along that crib. We will really need it.”
“Yes, we will.”
Kelt and Urdan unload the cart. Then they put together the extra crib and push it right next to the other one. The rest of my luggage and everything else we brought is placed in the front room. I place Bran in a bouncer so I can walk around, set up my Keurig and start moving luggage to the correct spaces and unpacking supplies.
“Are you sure you want to do that so soon? Maybe you should wait to fully unpack until you meet again with Whelan?” Kelt questions.
“Nope,” I insist. “I will start as I plan to go forward.”
He chuckles and leaves me alone.
The sun starts to set outside, leaving shadows and beams of golden light. “Kelt and I leaving,” Urdan finally announces. “There’s much for us to ready prior to Whelan’s arrival. Don’t forget that this whole night there will be many of us hiding outside, ready to take him down if he turns feral.”
I fish out two bags of Halloween treats and give one to each orc. “Thank you for all your help today. I really appreciate you putting together the crib.” I give Urban and Kelt each a big hug. They duck their heads because I suspect they are blushing. Finally, the two orcs drive away in the utility cart.
Rogan stays behind with me for another hour. I suspect it’s because he wants to make sure I’m a good mother before he leaves me alone with the babies in Whelan’s cabin. I should be angry at this lack of trust, but instead I admire the fact that he’s looking out for his grandsons.
We sit on opposite couches and I relax, with a blanket over my torso, nursing the twins while we chat. My breasts are heavy and I’m happy to be able to feed them. Maybe I’ll be able to start giving them that extra milk I always pump and bottle, just in case. I express enough breast milk for these two to feed an army, that’s another reason why I feel they haven’t been thriving, because they’ve been rejecting all the extra milk I produce.
I realize I feel comfortable around this huge orc because he looks very much like his son and therefore my babies look like him too. He hands me a glass of water and makes me a turkey and cheese sandwich which is surprisingly tasty, and I gladly eat every bite.
“Is Whelan’s mother here too?” I suddenly question.
“No,” Rogan answers gruffly. “Whelan’s mother came with me to the commune after she discovered she was pregnant in order hide her pregnancy from the prying eyes of the wider world, but she left the both of us soon after she recovered from his birth. She wanted nothing to do with this lifestyle or raising an orc son. She was embarrassed of us. As far as I know she went back to her normal life, never telling anyone about me or our son.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry.”
“The good news is that I was lucky enough to meet a second Bride whom I love and who loves me in return. Miranda chose to live here with me. She enjoys our life on the commune.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Does Whelan have a brother?”
“Yes, my younger son, Even, is only eleven years old.”
“I’d like to meet her and your other son.”
“If you choose to stay after meeting again with Whelan, I will bring them over.”
Fair enough.
After both the boys are fed and burped, Rogan and I both stand and head with them to the nursery. He helps me change their diapers, then he places a sleepy Bran down in his crib. I place Owen in the opposite crib. Both of them are bundled and propped for sleep.
He looks down at his grandsons with love shining in his dark eyes. “Thank you for this,” he rasps.
Then he strides out of the nursery and heads for the front door of the cabin. He pauses in the dark doorway. “Whatever you do, don’t run,” Rogan tells me. “Whelan might scare you at first with his aggression, but if you run it will simply reignite his need to chase and he will instantly devolve into ancient instincts. Remain still and let him scent you. Let him bury his nose in your hair and your neck and let him get his fill. This will be your best bet for keeping him calm and reasonable. And remember, he would never hurt my grandsons. Orcs do not harm their sons, or any other orc children. It is not within our species. We have so few offspring that each orc child is treated with care and attention.”
And then the door shuts and I’m alone with the babies.
I grin and rush to the primary bedroom and click on a light, ready to snoop. There is indeed only one small hall bathroom in the cabin. This room has no attached bath or closet but there’s a dresser. I already checked out the hall bathroom earlier, placing my items alongside Whelan’s next to the sink and in the shower. This was nice. It felt right.
I’ve never in my life had a live-in boyfriend. There were a few boyfriends who were serious, but we never got to the point of moving in together or speaking of marriage.
I pull my suitcase in from the hallway and start fully unpacking. I didn’t bring a carry on—this is a big suitcase that I checked along with the double stroller. I managed to fit all my toiletries, shoes and the clothes I wear the most for fall and winter.
I open his drawers and see Whelan’s huge black underwear, his dark pajamas, plaid shirts and blue jeans. I’m unable to fit all my clothes, which means we’ll need another dresser, but I do my best, loving the sight of my small panties next to his huge underwear.
And then of course I remember the feel of his ass in my hands and the slide of his large, thick cock. Now I want him to return as soon as possible.
The need for sleep hits me hard. I have no idea how long it will take for Whelan to return but my eyelids are already drooping. This is my chance and I need to take it. I kick off my shoes and slide off my cardigan, still fully clothed in jeans and t-shirt.
Then I slip into Whelan’s comfortable bed, loving his scent.
And I fall into a deep, exhausted sleep, my head on his pillow.
Chapter 4
Whelan
The edge of the commune comes into focus.
It’s still pitch-black outside with a hint of moon shadow to light the way and only a few hours until dawn. I’m filthy and exhausted. But this state of mind is good because it’s kept me away from subjects best left untouched. Like the fact that a little over a year ago my Bride ran out of my hotel room the moment I fell asleep after fucking her hard and long, doing my best to bring her intense pleasure, and she never looked back.