Page 4

Ruugar

“ H ey, no problem.” I swore laughter came through in Beth’s voice, but I didn't dare look to verify the fact. “You’re sharing the good luck with me.”

I liked that much more than the cringey feeling roaring through me.

But I didn't like how messy my home still was.

Why hadn't I kept it neat and tidy like Dungar did his own home?

You could practically eat on any surface inside his house.

No one could compare to my oldest brother who'd joined our group coming to the surface and then took charge of this amazing plan.

Aunt Inla said he had O of the CD, but I had no idea what that meant.

She said she’d read about it online, that this was why he had to have everything perfectly lined up, why things had to always be done in a certain way even when other ways would work just as well.

It made him an admiral person, though, and I envied him having this O of the CD and wondered if it was something I could buy online. Probably not.

Finally, I had to turn to face Beth. I couldn't stand in the middle of my still-messy kitchen with my back to her for the rest of my life. Heat crawled up my neck as I spun, catching bemusement on her face, shadowing her pretty blue eyes.

“You’re safe,” I blurted out, as if I hadn’t told her that already.

My voice came out rough. So cringey—a word Grannie Lil, Jessi's grandmother used once, and I’d liked enough to adopt it as my own.

Cringey described me most of the time. “I won’t let them take you back.

Not your father. Not Bradley. Not even Dungar if he decides to put on his sort of pretend badge and come knocking on my door, saying as the local law he has to collect you. ”

Her eyes widened and shot to my back door. “Your brother's a cop?”

Cop… Oh, yes. “He's the sort of pretend sheriff of Lonesome Creek. Not a real cop. He'll be arresting tourists. As pretend. Not real. Though I’m not sure why. My Aunt Inla said they find it fun to be arrested and placed in our jail. For charity. We wouldn't do it for any other reason.”

“He won't come here and insist on taking me back, will he?”

“I won't allow him to do this. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Her grip on her skirt loosened. “Thank you.”

The words burrowed into my chest, warming parts of my insides I hadn't let myself feel in a long time. Hope? Yeah, that was it. The beginning of completeness, something to be expected when someone was with their fated mate.

And affection with a surge of protectiveness shoring it up.

She sat there, staring at me. I stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at her, wondering what I was supposed to do with her now. It wasn’t late enough to suggest she go to bed.

Bed. I only had one inside my house. Well, it was Beth’s bed now. I’d sleep on the sofa.

Water. She could need water. Food. Something.

I rushed to the refrigerator, yanking it open.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? I have—” I dug through the shelves, grabbing anything that might appeal to a human, though I’d only stocked orc food here so far.

Eventually, I'd have to try more human things to see if I liked them.

My brothers, Greel and Ostor, who were mated with humans, said human food was amazing.

How could it be when they ate warmed dog fingers and thick, white strands of hair they coated with sauce as red as their blood?

Beth shook her head. “I'm not hungry. Or thirsty. But thank you.”

I straightened from where I'd been hunched over the open fridge, still gripping a hunk of smoked sorhox meat in one hand and a jar of pickled cragroot in the other. Slowly, I set them back down on the shelf and shut the door.

She still clutched the folds of her dress, her fingers twisting the fabric. A second later, she lifted her bag into her lap. “Do you have a place where I could change? This dress—” She swallowed hard. “I’ll feel so much better once I get out of it.”

That made sense. It was the dress she'd been forced to wear, the one meant to bind her to a life she hadn't chosen.

“Yes.” I stepped forward, stooping to lift her.

“Oh, I, um…”

“I’ll take you where you can change.”

“Um, alright?” she squeaked.

I gathered her carefully, cradling her against my chest as I carried her down the hall to my room, my fingers gentle under her knees. The warmth of her skin seeped through my own.

The second I lowered her onto the end of my bed, I knew I'd made a mistake bringing her here.

She belonged here. That was the worst part. She felt right in my arms. Sitting here in the room I'd shared with no one else. Like this was where she was always meant to be.

I forced myself to step back, to take my hands off her. The bed creaked under her small frame as she settled, gathering her bag into her lap as though clutching it would steady her. She hadn’t looked at me with fear. Not yet. But I waited for it.

What did she see when she looked at me? A brute?

A warrior of the old orc ways, unpolished and simple in his needs?

I had no fine manners, no fancy way of speaking.

My hands were meant for labor, not for touching anything as delicate as her.

I knew the feel of a sorhox beneath me. Tools in my hands.

Of rough rope sliding across my palms. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt silk outside of her dress.

Lace would fall apart if I so much as touched it.

I couldn’t give anyone the kind of luxury she'd grown up with. Would she see that in me now? Soon, she’d look around at my simple home, at the dust-streaked windows, and know she didn't belong here. She deserved fine things. All the best. A life I could not offer her. Soft cushions on chairs that had been built for her tiny size. Many-course meals with cloth napkins, something I’d only read about online.

She was like porcelain, a precious, breakable thing, a person meant to be held with care.

A few wrong touches, and I’d snap her in two.

I was all sharp edges and worn wood, not a person meant for someone as beautiful as her. And yet, here she was. Sitting on my bed, even if I could never dream of joining her on the surface, let alone laying back on it with her, side by side.

I fumbled my way to the door as if distance could save me from the ache digging its claws into my heart.

I could not make my swallow go down.

Her blue eyes lifted to meet mine.

I froze, unable to move. The world shrunk too fast around me, and it was all too much, until nothing existed beyond her gaze, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the way her fingers tightened on the bag she’d placed on her lap.

Panic slammed through me.

Only now did I notice the state of my room.

My blood turned to sludge in my veins. Shirts and equally dirty pants lay draped over the end of the bed right beside her.

The big chair in the corner held a pile of tumbled clothing I knew was clean but hadn't yet taken the time to fold or put away.

A belt lay on the floor near my other pair of boots.

The covers on my bed hung askew, probably touching the floor on the right side.

I'd washed my sheets and blankets not long ago, but I always forgot to make the bed in the morning like Aunt Inla told me I should.

What if a female came here and saw this disarray? she'd said, with that kind yet assertive crick in her voice. Would you want her to see your home looking like this?

I'd listened. Tried to remember. But I hadn't.

I spun into motion, scooping up the clothes from the chair and the bed, fumbling with the knob, wrenching open the closet door, and throwing everything inside.

The belt went next, followed by my boots. I yanked the covers straight, smoothing them down with both hands, trying to make it look…better. More presentable. More like a place Beth wouldn’t regret stepping into.

She hadn’t moved. She sat where I'd left her, her hands resting in her bag. Her eyes tracked my frantic movements, her lips parting, like she was thinking of saying something but contemplating not.

Surely she thought I was a fool.

Heat crept into my pointed ears that weren’t smooth and small and delicate like a human’s.

Orcs were warriors, hunters, builders. We weren’t supposed to care if a home looked perfect for a guest. But she wasn’t just any guest. She was my mate, even if she didn't know it.

Mate.

And here I stood, unsure if I should follow the proper protocols or not. I didn't want to frighten her away. I knew enough about humans to know that if I dropped to my knees in front of her and started licking her palms, she'd either smack me or leap up and run away.

It would kill me if she did anything like that.

So I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, rubbing the back of my neck, unsure what to say. Unsure what to do.

“I, uh…” My voice came out too rough, so I cleared my throat. “My home is not usually this messy.” Actually, it was, but I was going to try harder from now. Put things away rather than drop them wherever I was at the time.

I'd do anything as long as Beth didn't look at me with scorn.

She finally blinked and glanced around as if considering my words. “It’s fine.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, something soft and almost kind. “Really, Ruugar. It’s fine.”

My pulse stuttered when she said my name. I wasn’t some stranger who had scooped her up and carried her across the plains. She knew my name, knew my face.

The heaviness I'd been carrying around in my chest loosened. I'd hefted its burden months ago when I met her, when I'd seen her with that human male and realized she'd never be mine .

She unzipped the bag in her lap. “I can change here? I really need to get out of this dress.”

Right. The dress. The one she'd been forced to wear. The one meant to bind her to a life she didn’t want.

I nodded, stepping back toward the door. Running into the door, actually. Making it bang against the wall, and I swear, the house itself shuddered.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “You hit your shoulder hard.”

“I’m fine. Thank you. Fine. And you want to change. Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll… I’ll be outside. I mean, in the living room. I won’t actually go outside the house. Call for me if you need anything.”

She gave me a nod, her throat working as she swallowed.

I forced myself to turn and leave, pulling the door shut behind me as gently as I could.

In the hall, I sagged against the wall, raking my hands down my face. That hadn’t gone too bad.

It had, but I was going to pretend that it hadn’t. Because the thought of offending Beth, of irritating her, made me want to curl up in a big orc ball and sigh.

Waiting in my small living room, I wondered what in the world I was going to do now.

Because I couldn't hide her forever.