Page 28 of Orc’s Little Human

KORRATH

T he bodies need to move before the scent of blood draws scavengers. I've seen what happens when carrion beasts catch the smell of human flesh—they'll circle for hours, and some of them are bold enough to test living prey.

I grab Jorik first, hauling his dead weight by the shoulders. The bastard's heavier than he looked alive, all muscle and gristle gone slack. Blood trails behind us as I drag him toward the deeper swamp, far enough from camp that whatever comes to feed won't bother us.

Selene watches from where she stands frozen, blood still coating her hands like war paint. She killed them both. Protected Thali. Protected what's ours.

Pride burns through my chest, fierce and territorial. My woman is a warrior.

Halvdan takes more effort—the angle of his wound makes his body catch on every root and stone. By the time I've hauled both corpses into the murky water where the bog will claim them, sweat beads across my shoulders despite the cool air.

When I return to camp, Selene has cleaned her hands in the stream but her clothes still bear dark stains. Thali sits close beside her, chattering about the shells she dropped when she ran, but her voice carries the high, breathless quality that means she's working through fear.

"The pretty blue one cracked when I dropped it," Thali says, turning the broken shell over in her small hands. "But maybe it's still good? Maybe I can fix it with tree sap?"

"We'll find you another," Selene promises, and her voice is steady despite the tremor I can see in her shoulders. "Even prettier than the first."

I build up the fire as the sun begins its descent, the flames casting dancing shadows across our small sanctuary. Dinner is simple—dried meat and journey bread, with sweet berries Thali gathered yesterday. Normal things. Safe things.

But I watch Selene throughout the meal, noting how she startles at every small sound, how her eyes keep darting toward the places where the men emerged. She's holding herself together through will alone.

Thali's yawns grow longer as full darkness settles over the swamp. I bank the fire and spread her sleeping furs, listening to her sleepy rambling about tomorrow's shell hunting expedition.

"Will you tell me the story about the warrior who tamed the leviathan?" she asks, settling into her bedroll with the boneless exhaustion of childhood.

"Tomorrow," I promise, brushing her wild hair back from her face. "Sleep now, little sister."

She's out within minutes, breathing deep and even. Safe. Protected. Alive because Selene chose to fight rather than run.

I wait until Thali's breathing settles into the rhythm of true sleep before I move. Selene sits staring into the fire, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins like armor.

"Come," I say quietly, extending my hand.

She looks up, confusion flickering across her features. "Where?"

"Away from listening ears."

Understanding dawns. She takes my hand, letting me pull her to her feet. I lead her to a cluster of rocks twenty paces from camp—close enough that I can still see Thali's sleeping form, far enough that our words won't wake her.

The largest boulder provides a natural windbreak, creating a pocket of relative warmth. Moonlight filters through the canopy above, turning everything silver and shadow.

"Sit," I tell her, settling against the stone.

She perches on a smaller rock across from me, the distance between us feeling deliberate. Defensive.

"Are you all right?" The question comes out rougher than intended, weighted with everything I can't quite put into words. She killed two men today. Spilled blood to protect what matters most. That changes a person, marks them in ways that don't always heal clean.

She shakes her head, the motion sharp and brittle. "I—" Her voice cracks. "Those men. Jorik and Halvdan. They were the ones who captured me. Who dragged me to that place."

The camp. The death camp where they marked her, tortured her, branded her skin with magic she still doesn't fully understand.

Rage builds in my chest, molten and violent. If those bastards weren't already dead, I'd kill them myself. Slowly.

"I didn't think they'd find me," she continues, words spilling out in a rush. "I thought I was far enough away, that enough time had passed. But they were hunting me. Still hunting me."

"They're dead now." The statement carries all the finality I can pour into it. "They'll never hunt anyone again."

"But there will be others." She looks up at me, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Don't you see? I'm putting you in danger. Both of you. Thali could have been—" She stops, swallowing hard. "I should go. Before more of them come."

The words hit like a physical blow. Go. As if she could simply walk away from this, from us, from what we've built together.

I move before conscious thought takes hold, crossing the space between us in two strides. My hands frame her face, tilting her chin up so she has to meet my eyes.

"Listen to me." My voice comes out low, fierce. "There is nothing on this planet that will keep me away from you. Nothing. You are not going anywhere."

She tries to shake her head, but my grip prevents the movement. "Korrath, you don't understand?—"

"I understand perfectly. Threats will come.

Enemies will find us. We'll face them together.

All of them." My thumbs brush across her cheekbones, feeling the dampness of tears she's trying not to shed.

"You think I'd let you walk into danger alone?

You think I'd choose safety over having you beside me? "

"Why?" The word breaks on a sob. "Why would you do that for me?"

The answer rises from somewhere deeper than thought, truer than anything I've ever spoken.

"Because I love you."

She goes perfectly still beneath my hands, eyes widening with something like shock. As if the possibility never occurred to her.

"Can't you feel it?" I continue, letting the truth pour out of me. "This connection between us? The way your magic calls to mine? The way everything feels right when you're close and wrong when you're not?"

Her breath catches. "You... love me?"

"I have never known what those words could mean before you." The admission tears something open in my chest, leaves me raw and exposed. "I thought love was weakness. Something that made warriors soft, made chiefs fall. But with you..."

I trail off, searching for words that don't exist. How do I explain that she makes me stronger instead of weaker? That protecting her doesn't diminish me but completes me?

"With me, what?" she whispers.

"With you, I understand why men fight wars. Why they'd burn the world down to keep what matters safe."

She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see her processing, believing, accepting. When she speaks again, her voice is barely audible.

"I love you too."

The words hit me like lightning, electric and transformative. I pull her against me, crushing her mouth beneath mine with all the desperate hunger that's been building since the moment I saw those bastards threatening what's mine.

She responds with equal intensity, her hands fisting in my hair, her body pressing against mine like she's trying to disappear into my skin. The kiss tastes like tears and blood and promises neither of us knows how to keep.

When we break apart, both breathing hard, her eyes are bright with something that has nothing to do with sorrow.

"Show me," she whispers against my lips. "Show me how much."

I don't need to be asked twice.

My hands find the ties of her tunic, working them loose with practiced efficiency. She helps, pulling the fabric over her head and tossing it aside. Moonlight turns her skin to silver, highlighting the brand on her collarbone—the mark that binds us, that makes her magic sing in harmony with mine.

She reaches for my own clothes with hands that shake slightly, whether from cold or nerves or need, I can't tell. Don't care. All that matters is the way she looks at me, like I'm something precious, something worth having.

My tunic joins hers on the ground. Her fingers trace the scars that map my chest and shoulders, each touch sending fire through my veins. When she reaches the ritual marks on my tusks, her thumb brushes over the raised lines with something like reverence.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, and the word makes something tight in my chest loosen.

I lift her easily, settling her across my lap so she can feel exactly what she does to me. Her breath hitches when she realizes, when she feels the hard length of me pressing against her through the thin fabric of her pants.

"Are you sure?" I ask, because even with desire clawing at my control, I need to hear her say it.

"Yes." No hesitation, no doubt. "Please."

I help her work her pants down her hips, my own following moments later. When she settles back against me, skin to skin, the contact sends electricity racing along my nerves.

She's perfect. Soft where I'm hard, smooth where I'm scarred. When I lift her slightly and position myself at her entrance, she's already wet and ready.

The first slow slide into her heat makes us both groan. She's tight, perfect, mine in every way that matters. I give her a moment to adjust before moving, letting her set the pace.

But she's impatient, rolling her hips in a way that drives rational thought from my mind. Soon I'm moving beneath her, matching her rhythm, watching her face in the moonlight as pleasure builds between us.

Every thrust sends power singing through my veins, stronger than it's ever been. The magic responds to our joining, to the connection that binds us deeper than flesh. Through our bond, I can feel her pleasure mixing with mine, doubling and redoubling until I can't tell where I end and she begins.

She comes first, her body clenching around me as she cries out my name. The sound, the feel of her release, sends me over the edge after her. I bury my face against her neck as my own climax tears through me, leaving me shaking and spent.

We stay like that for long moments afterward, her body still wrapped around mine, both of us breathing hard. The magic between us settles into something deeper than before, more permanent. Like something that was loose has finally locked into place.

"Do you feel that?" I ask against her throat.

She nods, still catching her breath. "Stronger. Like we're..." She trails off, searching for words.

"Bound," I finish. "Truly bound."

She pulls back to look at me, her eyes soft and wondering. "Is that what this is? A bond?"

"Magic seeks balance often. It seems like we find that in each other." I trace the mark on her collarbone, feeling the magic humming beneath her skin. "I think that's what we've made tonight."

She smiles, and it transforms her entire face. "Good. I like the sound of being bound to you."

I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her as if I could absorb her into my very bones. Mine. Bound to me now in ways that go beyond choice or circumstance.

Let whatever enemies come. We'll face them together.