Page 7

I step back, sticking my tongue out at him childishly. He can't see it, but it makes me feel better.

As I flop onto the worn couch, I can't help but wonder how long this stalemate can last. Something's got to give, and soon. Whether it's my sanity, my resolve, or the tension between us, I'm not sure.

Sure, I know they're for mysafety. I understand the danger we're in. Blah, blah, blah. But after weeks of being cooped up in this swamp shack with Mr. Grumpy Green Giant, I'm ready to lose it.

So, I decide to have some fun. Koda wants to play warden? Fine. I'll be the prisoner from hell.

I start small. Rearranging his precious gun cleaning kit. Hiding his favorite coffee mug. Singing off-key French Quarter jazz at the top of my lungs when he's trying to sleep.

The vein that throbs in his forehead when he's annoyed? It's become my new favorite thing.

But it's not enough. I want to see him really lose it. So, on a bright sunny day, a couple of weeks into our bayou exile, I decide to cross the line. Literally.

Koda's out doing whatever it is grumpy orcs do in the swamp. Probably wrestling alligators or scowling at tadpoles. I eye the invisible boundary he's set around the cabin, the one he's warned me about a million times.

"Don't step foot beyond this line, Pamela."

"You cross this boundary, you're gator bait, sweetheart."

"One toe over this mark, and I'll tan your hide myself."

Well, guess what, big guy? This little chef is about to spice things up.

With a grin that would make a Mardi Gras reveler proud, I saunter right up to that invisible line. I wiggle my toes at the edge, savoring the moment. Then, with all the drama I can muster, I take one big, exaggerated step over.

"Oops," I say to the empty swamp, my voice dripping with false innocence. "Looks like I've been a bad girl."

I half expect Koda to come bursting out of the underbrush, all righteous fury and flexing muscles. But there's nothing. Just the usual swamp sounds and the hammering of my heart.

So, I decide to up the ante. I gather wildflowers, humming loudly as I go. Let him try to miss this when he gets back. As I pluck a vibrant bloom, I hear it. A low, menacing growl that sends shivers down my spine."What. The. Hell. Do you think you're doing?"

I turn slowly, a bunch of flowers clutched to my chest, to face one very pissed off orc. Koda's standing at the edge of the boundary, his yellow eyes blazing with fury. Every muscle in his massive green body is tense, like he's barely holding himself back from charging at me.

I paste on my sweetest smile. "Just picking some flowers to brighten up our lovely home, dear."

The sound that comes out of Koda's throat is barely human. Or orcish, for that matter.

"Get. Back. Here. Now."

Each of Koda's words cuts through the air, sharp as a knife. But instead of fear, I feel a thrill race down my spine. Finally, some excitement in this godforsaken swamp.

I twirl the flowers in my hand, feigning nonchalance. "Hmm, I don't know. The view's quite nice out here. Maybe I'll explore a bit more-"

Before I can finish, Koda's beside me in a blur of movement, his massive hand clamping around my upper arm. The flowers scatter at my feet, forgotten.

"That's enough," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "We're going back. Now."

I try to tug my arm free, but his grip is like iron. "Let go of me, you big brute!"

Koda's yellow eyes narrow, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "Sorry isn't good enough this time, sweetheart. You need to learn."

He looms over me, a wall of green muscle and barely contained fury. I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and immediately wish I hadn't. The raw desire I see there is unsettling, stirring up feelings I've never experienced before.

I drop my eyes, staring at the ground, my heart pounding. "What... what do you mean, learn?"

"It means," Koda rumbles, leaning in close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body, "that you're going to have to start following instructions, Pamela. I can't always be there to save your pretty little ass. You will obey my rules, or there'll be consequences."

The implication in his words hangs heavy in the air between us. My breath catches in my throat, an intoxicating mix of fear, guilt, and... something else... coursing through me.