I shrugged, mimicking his earlier tone, when he’d acted all high and mighty about orc law. “It’s the law. I don’t make the rules.”
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, but I swore I caught the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Your laws are strange.”
“They work better than yours,” I shot back. “At least mine don’t involve kidnapping.”
“I saved you,” he said, but his voice was quiet now, not defensive.
“And now you’re eating my stew,” I replied, my grin turning soft despite myself. “So really, who saved who?”
His gaze lingered on me for a heartbeat too long, and I noticed the faintest flush on his green-tinted cheeks. Something about that—this dangerous, scarred creature who’d ripped wolves apart with his bare hands—looking almost shy?
Gods help me, it was somewhat… adorable.
And that was dangerous.
I looked down at my own bowl, stirring the stew just to have something to do with my hands. It wasn’t just the food that warmed me; it was the firelight, the quiet, the strange sense of safety I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe not ever.
For all his roughness, Gorran wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t the way I’d imagined orcs to be. He’d brought me here, fed me, fought for me. And now, watching him eat like this meal mattered, likeImattered…
It wasn’t bad.
It was better than the keep. Better than choking on smoke and feeling invisible. Here, I wasn’t invisible.
I swallowed hard, my heart doing something strange and traitorous.
And to think I’d tried to run…
When I looked up again, his gaze was already on me. There was something unspoken in the way his eyes darkened, the firelight flickering across his sharp cheekbones. For a moment, the air between us shifted, tightening, like a bowstring pulled too far.
I thought he might reach for me.
I wanted him to.
Instead, he set his bowl down abruptly.
“I need fresh air,” he said, rising in one smooth motion.
I blinked, the moment breaking like glass. “What? You’re just… leaving?”
He gave a single nod, turning toward the cave mouth.
I stared at his broad back, my chest tight with confusion and irritation. “Fine. Go breathe your fresh air,” I muttered. “See if I care.”
But I did. And I hated that I did.
As the fire crackled, I stabbed my spoon into the stew, trying to shake the feeling clawing at me. Warmth. Safety. Closeness.
And the maddening fact that I wanted more.
MIRA
The fire had burned down to embers, soft red glows threading through the blackened wood. Shadows crawled across the walls of the cave, long and restless. I lay curled in the furs, pulling them tight around my shoulders, every sense sharpened by his absence.
I knew he was out there.
I could feel him. Somewhere beyond the cave mouth, stalking the treeline like a silent predator, keeping watch. Keeping me safe. But keeping distant out of some sense of orc—or justGorran—morality.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t quiet. It kept replaying the way he’d looked at me over dinner, the way his lips had quirked when I teased him. The way he’d kissed me under that tree… rough and unyielding, but as if some part of him had been holding back.
