Page 17 of Orc’s Little Human

SELENE

I don't mean to fall asleep. The plan was to slip back to my room before anyone noticed, to pretend this never happened and go back to the careful distance I've been maintaining.

But Korrath's arms are warm and solid around me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath my cheek, and for the first time since I escaped the camps, I feel. .. safe.

That realization should terrify me. It should send me scrambling from his bed immediately. Instead, I sink deeper into his embrace, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull me into the first peaceful sleep I've had in months.

I wake to the pale gray light of dawn filtering through the gaps in the hide covering his window. For a moment, I'm disoriented—the scent is wrong, the feel of the furs beneath me unfamiliar. Then awareness crashes back, and I remember exactly where I am and what I've done.

My heart lurches as I realize how completely I've fucked up. Thali will be looking for me soon. She always comes to my room early, chattering about whatever adventure she has planned for the day, and if she finds me here...

The thought of that innocent child discovering me naked in her brother's bed makes my stomach clench with shame.

But it's not just the impropriety that has me scrambling to untangle myself from Korrath's arms. It's the way I feel lying here with him—the bone-deep contentment, the rightness of it that makes me want to stay forever.

That terrifies me more than anything.

I slip from the furs as carefully as I can, trying not to disturb him.

In sleep, the harsh lines of his face have softened, making him look younger, less forbidding.

One hand is stretched across the furs where I was lying, as if he's reaching for something that's no longer there.

The sight makes my chest ache in ways I don't want to examine.

I dress quickly, my hands shaking as I pull on my pants and straighten my tunic. The mark on my collarbone throbs with a dull heat, a reminder of whatever happened between us last night. His magic had surged through me like molten metal, leaving me feeling raw and exposed and fundamentally changed.

Even now, I can feel something humming beneath my skin—an energy that wasn't there before, a connection to something I can't name or understand. It should frighten me. Everything about this situation should send me running as far and as fast as I can.

Instead, I have to fight the urge to crawl back into that bed and lose myself in his arms again.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I've spent years building walls around myself, learning not to trust, not to feel, not to want anything beyond basic survival.

I've made it this far by being smart, by being careful, by never letting anyone close enough to hurt me again.

And in one night, I've let this orc—this brutal, dangerous man who could snap my neck without thinking twice—tear down every defense I've built.

The worst part is how right it felt. How perfectly I fit against him, how his touch set every nerve ending on fire, how for those few hours I forgot about everything except the way he looked at me like I was something precious instead of something broken.

Desire and self-loathing twist in my chest like twin serpents, each feeding off the other until I can barely breathe. I'm a fool. A weak, desperate fool who's forgotten every lesson I learned in those camps about what happens when you trust the wrong person.

But I can't make myself regret it. Even now, with shame burning in my throat, I can't make myself wish it hadn't happened.

I slip through the doorway into the main room, my bare feet silent on the stone floor. The fire has burned down to glowing embers, and the longhouse is quiet except for the distant sound of the ocean and the soft snores coming from what I assume is Thali's room.

Perfect. I can make it back to my own space, pretend I spent the night alone, act like nothing has changed. Maybe if I'm convincing enough, I can even fool myself.

I'm halfway across the room when I hear the soft patter of small feet. My heart stops as Thali's door creaks open and she pokes her head out, dark hair wild with sleep.

"Selene?" She blinks at me in confusion, taking in my rumpled appearance and the fact that I'm coming from the wrong direction. "What are you doing?"

Think fast. Come up with something believable. Anything that doesn't involve explaining why I was in her brother's bed.

"I couldn't sleep," I say, which is technically not a lie. "I was just... looking at the fire."

She accepts this with the easy trust of childhood, padding over to me with a sleepy smile. "Bad dreams?"

"Something like that."

She slips her small hand into mine, and the simple gesture makes my throat tight.

This child trusts me completely, looks at me like I'm someone worth caring about, and I've been lying to her from the moment we met.

About who I am, about what I've done, about the mark burned into my skin that seems to react to her brother's magic in ways I don't understand.

"Come on," she says, tugging me toward the kitchen area. "I'll make breakfast. That always makes me feel better when I'm sad."

Sad. Is that what I am? The emotion churning in my chest is too complex for such a simple word, but I let her pull me along anyway.

We work together in comfortable silence, Thali chattering about the shells she wants to look for today while I focus on the mundane task of cutting fruit and arranging it on wooden plates.

It's peaceful. Normal. Exactly what I need to convince myself that last night was an aberration, a moment of weakness that won't be repeated.

Then Korrath emerges from his room, and my carefully constructed calm crumbles to dust.

He's wearing only pants, his chest bare and marked with scratches that I remember making with my own nails. His dark hair is mussed from sleep—or from my fingers running through it—and there's something in his golden eyes that makes my stomach flutter with nervous energy.

Those eyes go straight to me, pinning me in place with an intensity that makes my skin flush hot.

I force myself to look away, focusing on the fruit in front of me like it's the most fascinating thing I've ever seen.

But I can feel his gaze on me, can sense the confusion and something that might be hurt in the way he stands there watching me.

Did he expect me to still be there when he woke up? Did he think I would want to stay, to talk about what happened between us, to pretend like it meant something more than a moment of weakness?

My mind flashes to when he started to pull back, to give me respect I didn't know an orc would ever give a human. The thought makes my chest tight with emotions I refuse to name.

"Brother!" Thali bounces over to him, apparently oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. "Don't you have clan work to do today? Grakul was looking for you yesterday."

I risk a glance up and immediately regret it. Korrath's eyes are still fixed on me, and there's definitely hurt there now, mixed with something that looks dangerously close to anger. His jaw is tight, his massive frame radiating the kind of barely controlled energy that usually precedes violence.

Does he think I'm dismissing what happened? That I'm trying to pretend it meant nothing?

Maybe I am. Maybe that's exactly what I should do.

"I thought I'd come to the stream with you today," he says, his voice carefully neutral. But his eyes never leave mine, and I can hear the challenge in those words. "I need to check the encampment by the bank anyway."

Thali lets out a squeal of delight that makes me wince. "Really? You want to come with us?"

The pure joy in her voice cuts through me like a blade. This is what she's been wanting—for her brother to spend time with us, to be part of whatever friendship she thinks she's building between the three of us. She has no idea that she's walking into the middle of a minefield.

"That sounds wonderful," I manage, though the words taste like ash in my mouth.

Korrath's expression shifts slightly, some of the hurt fading into something more speculative. He's watching me like he's trying to solve a puzzle, trying to figure out what game I'm playing. The problem is, I don't know either.

All I know is that the thought of spending the day with him—of being close enough to touch, to smell his scent, to remember exactly how it felt to have his hands on my skin—fills me with equal parts anticipation and dread.

We gather what we need for the trip, and I try to pretend that everything is normal.

That I'm not hyperaware of every movement Korrath makes, every time his massive frame passes close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

That I don't notice the way his muscles flex when he reaches for something, or how his hair catches the morning light streaming through the windows.

He's being careful not to touch me, I realize. Keeping just enough distance that we don't accidentally brush against each other, but close enough that I'm constantly aware of his presence. It's deliberate, calculated, and it's driving me slowly insane.

When we leave the longhouse, Thali skips ahead, chattering excitedly about the adventure ahead. Korrath falls into step beside me, close enough that I can smell the clean scent of his skin mixed with something darker, more masculine.

"Sleep well?" he asks quietly, his voice pitched low enough that Thali can't hear.

The casual question hits me like a punch to the gut. There's nothing casual about the way he's looking at me, nothing innocent about the way his eyes drop to my mouth before flicking back to meet my gaze.

"Fine," I lie, because admitting that I slept better in his arms than I have anywhere else would be giving him a weapon I can't afford to hand over.

His jaw tightens, and I know he doesn't believe me. Hell, I wouldn't believe me either. But he doesn't push, just nods and looks ahead to where Thali is gathering interesting rocks from the path.

We walk in silence for a while, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a blade.

Occasionally, his arm brushes mine as we navigate the narrow path down to the stream, and each contact sends sparks racing along my nerves.

My mark throbs in response, that strange energy humming beneath my skin like a tuning fork that's been struck.

Something happened last night that I can't explain. Something beyond just sex, beyond just physical attraction. When he touched me, when his magic surged through both of us, it felt like something fundamental shifted between us. Like we'd crossed a line that can't be uncrossed.

That should terrify me. Every survival instinct I've honed over the past months is screaming at me to run, to put as much distance between us as possible before this connection—whatever it is—gets strong enough to destroy me.

But another part of me, a part I thought had died in those camps, wants to lean into it. Wants to see where this impossible attraction might lead, even if it means risking everything I've fought so hard to protect.

My heart is at war with itself, and I don't know which side is going to win.