Orc Boyfriend: Silvestrov 2 (special preview)

Winter was coming faster than Fall could end. Harsh ice storms had already blocked the roads, and heavy snows were fast sealing them up. You had been opening your hot springs to the men and women who were trying to chop through the ice to let in suppliers from the South. Since the winter was in a hurry to begin, not many people had a chance to finish stocking their cellars. The ice was harsh, but the hot springs offered a soothing relief from the pain, as well as helping their aching hands and joints. Silvestrov had been going to help as well, but he never took advantage of the hot springs. Instead, he would go and sit by the fire, showing Severnova how to properly use an ice pick.

One evening, after Silvestrov had tucked Severova to bed, you were crushing dried herbs to rub onto the chicken you had bought at market. Silvestrov sat by the fire, warming his hands. He was having trouble closing his fist and was slowly working his fingers.

“You work hard, but you do nothing to heal up after.” You scoff at him. “What sort of lesson is that to teach your daughter?”

“I must work hard to regain what I have lost.”

“You’ll lose a finger or worse if you do not take care of yourself!” You scold at him. “Working at the ice all day then doing nothing to repay the limbs that worked so hard! Why do you think I offer the hot springs to those chipping away at the ice block?”

He smirks up at you. “To spy on their firm and naked hides?”

Your jaw clinches and you stare him down with needles in your eyes. “I would slap you if I did not think you would shatter like glass.”

Silvestrov licks at the corner of his mouth where the scar begins. “Go ahead, slap me. I would welcome the touch. It has been a long time since I was struck in combat. I do miss it sometimes.”

You roll your eyes. “Combat! You really are idiotic. Thank the goddess that Severova is smarter than you.”

He leans back in the chair, gently working his fingers until they can form a fist again. “I am grateful for that too. She will make a worthy adversary one day.”

You nearly drop the pan with the chicken in it. “Do you want to fight her?”

“Having fights with ones young is both cathartic and bonding.”

You slam the pan down on the counter and turn on him. “You are not fighting that little girl!” You snap at him. “Not now, not even if she grows to be ten feet tall!”

Silvestrov clicks his tongue dismissively at you. “She is not a human, little woman, she is an Orc. One of the Ruby Eyed Orcs, in fact. She was born to be strong, born to fight and hunt. She will not be a delicate little homemaker like you.”

“Who says?” You bark at him. “You?” You jab him in the chest. “She is the one who decides what she is!”

“She’s got very little choice once I take her in the summer.”

“Stop throwing that in my face!” You slap him upside his head. “At least have the common decency to take your salt and rub it in the snow rather than my wounds!” You slam your palm against your chest.

“You hit me,” he laughs. “About time.”

You sniff and mock his tongue click. “If I had a pan I wanted to ruin, I would beat you with it. But you are not worth scruffing my cast iron.”

Silvestrov chuckles, watching as you turn back to rubbing the chicken with herbs. “I can see why she loves you so much.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“She still hasn’t called me daddy or papa or whatever she wants,” he grumbles.

You turn and look back at him. “These things take time,” you huff. “She will love you. She probably already does.”

“You were angry with me and now you want to comfort me?” He laughs sadly.