Page 20 of X’nath (Dark Orcs of Helfallow)

20

The Woman who Slays

X’NATH

I watched her as we made our way back to camp, the image of Gracie in my mind burned deeper than anything else. She had done it. She’d fought that creature and kept it at bay, a beast so massive in comparison to her, I couldn’t believe it. Her strength and resolve, her quick thinking, it all came together to save that child.

I’d always known she had fire inside her. But now, seeing her bloodied and exhausted, she was more than a warrior. She was everything I’d been searching for in a mate, but never thought I’d find. The way her eyes burned with courage, even when it was clear she was shaken… She was the female for me.

But as we walked through the trees, a small gnawing feeling formed in my chest, an unfamiliar discomfort. My gaze wandered to the other men, and I noticed the way their eyes followed Gracie’s every move. The way their eyes lingered, the subtle glances from the other men who hadn’t shown interest before—competition was in the air. The realization made my blood boil, and I pushed the anger down. No one else was going to claim her. She was mine. I had been patient. Now, I was done waiting.

I moved closer to her, trying to mask the jealousy with a grin. “You’ve got quite the skill with a weapon, Gracie,” I said, my voice low and teasing, knowing full well she wasn’t in the mood. “You should teach me sometime. I’m sure I could learn a thing or two from you.”

Her eyes flicked to me, but there was no warmth in her gaze. Instead, I saw the annoyance flash there, the same resistance she always showed me. “X’nath. I’m covered in blood and not in the mood for your games,” she snapped, brushing past me, her tone curt and final.

"Ahnak! Ahnak!" Rasha sprinted toward her child, who ran into her arms, crying and trembling. She rocked him gently, her eyes lifting to the sky in gratitude, thanking the higher powers for her son’s safe return.

I watched Gracie from a distance, noting the strange somberness in her eyes as she observed the reunion. There was something in her expression—something I couldn’t quite grasp. Did she long for children of her own, I wondered? If she did, I could give her an entire tribe’s worth, should she ever want it.

So why was she resisting this— us —so fiercely?

I watched Gracie as she began to walk again, the weight of the moment hanging on her shoulders. She moved with a purposeful stride, but there was an unmistakable heaviness in the way she held herself, as though the battle had taken more out of her than she was willing to admit. Even so, there was strength in every step, a quiet kind of resolve that I admired.

I couldn’t help myself. The pull to be near her, to speak with her again, was too strong. I stepped into her path, blocking her way just enough to make her pause. My heart thrummed in my chest, and I smiled, the kind of smile that only appeared when I knew I had her attention.

"You know," I said, my voice low and warm, "for someone who just saved a child’s life, you don’t look like you’ve been enjoying the victory."

She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes dark and filled with frustration. "I’m fine," she replied, her voice clipped, as though she was already tired of me.

"Are you?" I pressed, stepping closer, not letting the distance grow between us. I let my eyes trail over her, the blood staining her skin, the way she still carried herself with strength despite the chaos she’d just been through. She looked like a goddess and for a brief moment, I wondered if I was worthy of her. "You’ve carried the weight of this day, Gracie. Maybe it’s time someone carried something for you."

Her expression tightened, lips pressing into a thin line, and I saw the faintest flash of a different kind of irritation cross her features. "I’m not interested, X’nath. I don’t need your pity or your attention."

I chuckled softly, unfazed by her rejection. Who in their right minds would pity this female warrior? She was out of her mind to even think such a thing. "You can say that, but you know it’s not true. You can reject me all you want, but there’s something in you, something you can’t push away forever."

I followed her for a few steps, but she didn’t turn back, her pace quickening as she walked away from me. The frustration in her movements only seemed to fuel my resolve, and I knew I couldn’t let her slip away just yet. My gaze flicked left and right, checking that no one else was nearby. Then, with a boldness that surprised even me, I stepped forward and caught her arm, gently but firmly pulling her behind a nearby tree.

Before she could even react, I pressed my lips to hers, my heart thudding in my chest. It wasn’t soft or hesitant—I’d seen the way the other men and human females interacted. No hesitation. No fear. Just a raw, confident pull.

She froze. Her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she didn’t do anything. She didn’t pull away, didn’t slap me, or punch me in the face like I half-expected her to. It was as if she was too stunned to move, and I felt a rush of triumph.

I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, my voice low and steady. “I told you, lak’osh . I’m not going anywhere. You can try to ignore it, but you’re only fooling yourself.”

Her breath was shaky, her chest rising and falling quickly, but she didn’t push me away. Not yet. Not completely.

I waited for her to react, to finally let loose the anger I knew she was holding back. But she didn’t. Instead, her gaze lingered on me, full of confusion, frustration, and something else I couldn’t quite place.

I smirked. "You’re not as unaffected as you want to seem," I teased, my voice low and challenging.

She didn’t say anything. She just stood there, staring at me, her lips slightly parted. The silence between us stretched on, the tension thick enough to taste.

I knew deep down, she was starting to question everything she thought she knew about me. About us.

She shoved me in the chest then, her face contorting in rage. I had to admit, she was beautiful in her fury.

"Your youth makes you arrogant, X'nath," Gracie growled, her voice sharp with frustration. Her eyes flashed as she met my gaze for a brief moment, and then, without another word, she spun on her heel, her boots striking the ground with purpose. Her pace quickened, creating a chasm of space between us as she walked away.

I stood there, watching her retreat, a mix of confusion and something deeper swirling within me. She didn’t look back, but I could feel the weight of her unspoken thoughts in the air between us. There was an undeniable tension hanging in the space she left behind.

But despite her angry words and her swift departure, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. There was a softness to the way she held herself, a vulnerability beneath that tough exterior. She might’ve run, but I knew—she hadn’t escaped the moment. I felt it in the way her body tensed just before she turned, and the way her lips lingered with the imprint of mine.

Her rejection didn’t sting as much as I expected. Instead, a strange sense of triumph welled up inside me. She was fighting it—fighting me—but I had seen it. I had felt it. The way my lips tingled after the kiss. The way her breath hitched for just a second. I knew she felt it too.

As she vanished into the distance, I smirked to myself. It was a small victory. One that I would savor. Because despite her words, despite her attempts to push me away, I was certain of one thing—Gracie was far from done with me.

I enjoyed this little push and pull game between us much more than she realized. There was something more to her than the walls she’d built around herself, and I was going to find it. Sooner or later, she’d realize that what I was offering was everything she needed, even if she couldn’t see it yet.

I couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at my lips. She was as fiery as ever, and despite her words, I could see the lingering flicker in her eyes—the smallest of sparks whenever our gazes met. She didn’t want me, not right now, but I knew better than to take her rejection at face value.

I watched Gracie walk away, her steps purposeful as she headed toward the lake to clean herself off. The tension in her movements spoke volumes, but she didn’t look back. My gaze lingered on her, even as she disappeared into the distance.

Yargol, as always, climbed up onto my shoulders, his familiar weight settling there like it belonged. He was a fierce partner, loyal and sharp, always ready for a fight. But he wasn’t just a fighter. He knew who to trust, and I had no doubt that when I wasn’t around to protect her, Yargol would be by her side, watching over her.

Weasels weren’t careless with their affection. They chose wisely, and it seemed Yargol had made his choice just as carefully as I had.

I sighed, scratching Yargol behind his ear.

“What do you think, Yargol?” I muttered, eyeing the retreating form of Gracie. “I think she’s starting to crack, don’t you? It’ll take time, but I can’t stay away. I won’t.”

Yargol gave a small, knowing squeak, twitching his nose in what could only be a form of approval.

“Yeah, I know. She doesn’t want to hear it now, but eventually she’ll see,” I murmured, mostly to myself. “I’ll make her see. It’s just a matter of time.”

The forest around us was calm again, the distant sounds of orcish voices carrying from the camp. The men hadn’t noticed our exchange, still too caught up in their own chatter and the allure of Gracie’s presence. But I noticed them, the way their eyes followed her, how they hung on her every movement.

No, I wouldn’t let anyone else take her from me. Not now. Not ever.