Page 3 of Vexing the Grumpy Orc (Silvermist Mates #3)

CHAPTER THREE

HANNAH

“ C offee’s getting cold.”

Bree’s gentle nudge snapped me back to the present. I blinked at the nurses’ station clock, surprised to find my first shift nearly over.

“Sorry. Big day.” I wrapped my hands around the lukewarm mug, letting the familiar smell ground me.

Hospital coffee—even badly burnt and bitter—felt oddly comforting after weeks of cheaper instant stuff in my apartment. Cheaper because I hadn’t planned on needing an apartment in Silvermist Falls at all. But that disastrous ritual two weeks ago left me no choice. Digby needed me, and breaking his curse required resources. Resources meant money. Money meant employment, and bills waited for no witch.

At least the small-town hospital felt quiet after years in bigger facilities. The two-story building housed a small ER with eight beds and a collection of doctor offices for routine care. Each room was equipped for both human and supernatural patients, though the former tended to require stitches, splints, and antacids while the latter included spells, potions, and occasionally fur removal from odd places.

“You’ll get used to the pace.” Bree leaned against the nurses’ station, coffee mug cradled in her hands. “Small town doesn’t mean boring. Silvermist’s got character.”

“And characters.” Susan settled into the chair beside me. “Remember that siren last spring? Three different shifters fighting over her in the parking lot.”

“While she just sat there filing her nails.” Bree shook her head. “At least they took it outside. Unlike that wendigo couple last month.”

“Sounds eventful.” I smiled despite myself. The easy banter reminded me of my old hospital, before everything went sideways with a gorgon turning my life plans to stone.

My heart ached at the reminder of Digby’s continued decor status. I missed him. Not just for the magic—though working spells without my familiar felt like trying to write with my off hand. I missed his grumpy huffs and puffs. His steady presence at my side. The way he always knew exactly when to offer comfort or distraction.

“Usually quiets down in the winter.” Bree stretched. “Most supernaturals handle their own healing anyway. Especially the orcs up in Grimstone. ”

My ears caught on ‘orcs’ and ‘Grimstone’. Heat bloomed through mu core as memories crashed over me. Strong hands gripping my hips. A gravelly voice snarling against my throat. The way he’d felt inside me, stretching me open while magic surged around us...

I shifted in my chair, clearing my throat. “The orcs handle their own healing?”

“Most of them.” Bree sipped her coffee. “They’ve got shamans for that. Though the chief’s mate works her magic with them sometimes.”

“His mate’s a witch?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Miranda, I think?” Susan nodded. “She’s helped a lot with bridging the communities. The clan even opened a shop downtown last month. They’re expanding their woodworking stall from the farmer’s market.”

That explained some of his venom about witches tearing families apart. Though not all of it. There was too much raw hatred in how he’d spat the word ‘witch’ for it to just be about the chief’s mate.

A knock on the doorframe saved me from more dangerous questions. “Ladies.”

Dr. Harrison Rocha stood in the entrance, dark hair artfully tousled and smile professionally charming. “I was thinking of welcoming our newest nurse to the team with dinner at Silver Kettle. My treat.”

Bree and Susan exchanged a look I couldn’t quite read .

“Thanks, but I promised my kids a movie night.” Susan grabbed her bag with suspicious speed.

“Rain check.” Bree was already halfway to the door. “Early shift tomorrow.”

And just like that, I was alone with Harrison’s expectant smile.

I should have made my own excuse. But burning bridges on day one wouldn’t help Digby, and a free meal was a free meal. Even if something about Harrison’s too-perfect smile set my teeth on edge.

Fuck.

“The Silver Kettle has the best patio in town.” He held the door as we left Silvermist Medical. “Perfect weather for outdoor dining.”

The place lived up to Harrison’s praise. Hugging the end of a row of cute shops lining Main Street, the restaurant boasted a brick courtyard dotted with wrought iron tables. Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, creating a warm ambiance. Even the mountains seemed close enough to touch, looming high above the streets.

It should have been cozy. Instead, it felt suffocating. Being out in public reminded me how exposed I was without Digby nearby. That first week after his petrification had been hell. Walking around town filled me with nervous energy, and the urge to run kept growing stronger every day.

Harrison chose a table near the railing, ordering wine before I could protest. “Red okay? ”

“Sure.” I focused on the menu instead of his too-perfect smile. The prices made my bank account weep, but he’d offered to pay. After weeks of living on ramen packets while I hunted for work, I planned to order the most expensive thing they served.

“The chef here does an amazing filet mignon.” Harrison leaned back, completely at ease. “Though I usually avoid the salmon. You know how sensitive the… diverse population can get. Wouldn’t want some kraken claiming I ate their cousin, after all.”

The hesitation before ‘diverse’ carried volumes of meaning. The hollow laugh he tacked on at the end made me want to punch him. I thought of the orc’s accusations about corruption and darkness. At least he’d been honest in his prejudice.

My fingers tightened on the menu. “I imagine most people know the difference between friends and food.”

“Of course, of course.” The server appeared with our wine, and Harrison nodded approvingly as she poured. “But as medical professionals, we have a duty to consider liability issues. Especially with patients whose baseline health parameters fall outside established norms.”

I studied the delicate stem of my wine glass, counting breaths like I used to do during difficult trauma cases. No wonder the other nurses had bailed so fast.

“But you have to admit, treating non-human patients presents unique challenges.” Harrison leaned forward like we were sharing secrets and darted a glance across the street. My skin crawled. “Take orcs, for instance. Their accelerated healing makes dosing difficult. One wrong calculation could have serious consequences.”

I followed his gaze. Two orcs wrestled what looked like a massive wooden desk through the doorway of Sombra Mountain Artisans.

My heart stopped.

The server saved me from responding, but Harrison’s shit opinions had killed any trace of appetite. I mumbled the first menu item I saw, my attention fixed on the storefront across the street.

Even from here, I recognized the broad shoulders and powerful build of the orc who’d ruined my ritual. He’d ditched the shirt this time, muscles rippling as he maneuvered the furniture. Tattoos wrapped his arms, the same ones I’d traced with my fingers that night.

His head snapped up like he sensed my attention. Dark eyes met mine across the street, and heat bloomed in my core. Recognition flared, followed by that same crackling hostility that had drawn us together in the woods. For a heartbeat, I was back there—magic surging between us as he filled me completely.

I jerked my gaze away, cheeks burning. Dammit. I didn’t need this complication. Not when I was trying to figure out if I could stomach working for someone who clearly saw supernatural patients as a nuisance at best.

“Hannah?” Harrison’s voice drew me back. “You seem distracted.”

Because I could still feel those eyes burning into me. Still taste mountain air and fury on my tongue. Still hear his growled commands echoing in my head.

“Sorry, I—” I broke off as his phone rang.

“Excuse me.” He checked the display. “I need to take this.”

The moment Harrison stepped away, heavy footsteps approached our table. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The scent of mountain rain and moss wrapped around me, stirring memories I’d tried very hard to forget.

“Making a habit of trespassing where you’re not wanted?”

I forced myself to look up slowly, deliberately, matching his sneer with one of my own.

“Public street. Public restaurant.” I gestured around us with my free hand, grinning viciously when he flinched from my fingers. “Your territory doesn’t extend this far.”

“No.” His eyes flicked to Harrison’s abandoned seat. “But I’d think even a witch would have better taste than associating with trash like him.”

I offered him a bland smile and trailed my finger along the rim of my wine glass. “Bold words from someone who fucked said witch in the dirt. ”

His growl sent an unwanted shiver down my spine. I hated how my magic responded to the sound, reaching for him like it had that night. “A mistake. One that won’t happen again.”

“Agreed.” I tipped my glass in mock cheers. “Though you seemed to enjoy my filthy magic well enough at the time.”

His nostrils flared. Before he could respond, the other orc approached. Leaner but still impressive, with smaller tusks that gave him a perpetual hint of a smile.

“Galan?” The newcomer’s voice held equal parts concern and amusement. “Everything okay here?”

I smiled sweetly. “Oh, is that your name? Galan?” I drew out the syllables, watching his jaw clench. Score one for the filthy witch. “Suits you. All hard edges and?—”

“Everything all right, Hannah?”

Harrison’s return wiped the satisfaction from my face.

“Hannah.” The orc’s savage grin turned triumphant. “Good to finally know your name.”

Goddess damn him. My name rolled off his tongue like smoke and sin. Heat crawled up my spine. I hated how much I liked hearing him say it. How much I wanted him to growl it against my skin again. Rougher. Darker. The way he had in the woods.

“Galan.” The other orc’s voice held an edge of warning. “The delivery.”

He hesitated just long enough to make it clear he was leaving by choice, not command. I kept my eyes on my glass until his heavy footsteps faded.

Only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding. Let my fingers unclench from around the stem.

Harrison slid back into his seat, voice dripping with false sympathy. “I apologize you had to deal with such a... primitive specimen. Some of them can be quite intimidating when they forget we’re a civilized society.”

My fingers tightened around my wine glass. The urge to throw the contents in his face grew stronger with each word.

“Their clan in particular has violent tendencies.” He glanced around like he was sharing state secrets. “They slaughtered a human without remorse.”

“Really.” Ice coated my tongue. “And I suppose you were there? Witnessed this alleged slaughter firsthand?”

“Well, no, but?—”

“Then, disrespectfully, shut the fuck up.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I set the glass down before I shattered it. “I’ve had enough of your thinly veiled bigotry for one evening.”

“Bigotry?” His perfect smile slipped. “I’m simply expressing concern about documented violent incidents?—”

“You’re expressing shit.” The words burned in my throat like acid. “You’ve spent this entire dinner making snide comments about non-human patients. Suggesting they’re too difficult or dangerous to treat. That’s not medical concern—that’s prejudice wrapped in a white coat.”

“I see.” He sat back, studying me like a disappointing lab specimen. “I had such high hopes for you. But I suppose even nurses can fall prey to monster sympathies.”

“Monster sympathies?” I barked out a laugh. “Is that what you call basic decency?”

“I call it dangerous naivety.” His voice hardened. “These creatures may wear civilized masks, but underneath they’re still savage beasts. My duty as a doctor is to protect?—”

“Your duty is to heal. Period.” I shoved back from the table. “And those ‘savage beasts’ are people. With families and lives and every right to proper medical care.”

“Ms. Cuyler?—”

“I quit.” I grabbed my purse. “Find someone else to nod along with your bullshit.”

I stormed out of the restaurant, fury burning through my veins. The cool evening air did nothing to calm me down. Neither did the heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

“Witch.”

I whirled on Galan, who at least had the decency to look startled by my expression. “What? What could you possibly want now? ”

“You defended us.” His dark eyes searched my face. “Why?”

“Because he’s wrong.” My hands shook with lingering anger. “Because his sort of judgment is just fucking stupid . Because—” I broke off, chest heaving. “Just because, okay? Now get out of my way.”

He shifted closer instead. “Hannah?—”

“No.” I jabbed a finger at his chest. “You don’t get to say my name. Not after you ruined my ritual and called my magic filthy. Not after you made it impossible to save—” My voice cracked. “Just stop ruining my life and leave me alone.”

I shoved past him, half-expecting him to grab my arm. To demand more answers. But he let me go, his burning gaze following as I fled down the darkening street.

Tears pricked my eyes. Stupid. So fucking stupid. I’d just torched my best chance at steady employment in Silvermist. And where else could I go that would have the ley lines and mushrooms I needed for Digby’s ritual? Which meant travel, which meant saving, which meant more and more and more time.

But Harrison’s disgusting tone as he dismissed entire species as primitive... I couldn’t stomach it. Wouldn’t stomach it. Not even for Digby.

My familiar would understand. He’d probably have bitten Harrison’s ankles if he could.

The thought made me smile despite everything. Then I remembered the statue sitting in my cheap apartment, cold and lifeless, and the smile crumbled.

I’d figure something out. I had to. But right now, I just needed to get home before I punched someone. Or kissed someone. Or both.

Definitely both.