“Yes, it does. It was built over many generations, and we still maintain it.”
The path narrows further. The cabins are farther apart now, with more space between them. “You said your cabin is on the outskirts,” I say slowly. “How far out?”
“Far enough.” His hands are steady on the wheel. “I prefer privacy.”
“Because you’re the ‘scary Irontree’ everyone avoids?”
His jaw tenses. “Because I like quiet.”
I study his profile. The strong line of his jaw. The way his horns sparkle in the sunlight. The crooked nose that somehow makes him more attractive, not less. “I was just teasing. And for what it’s worth,” I say quietly, “I don’t think you’re scary.”
He glances at me, something unreadable in his dark eyes. “Orcs can still be scary.”
My mind wanders back to that day when Garlen Irontree lost his mind and raced across town, half naked, ready to kidnap Ellie right off the street. That was certainly scary. The other Irontrees brought chains to restrain him, but the only thing that calmed him down was Ellie’s touch.
“We’re stronger. Faster. When we lose control—” He cuts himself off, grip tightening on the wheel. “You know. You were there when the Winter Frenzy happened to Garlen. You’ll be safe with me though, but you need to remember what you’re dealing with.”
“I’m starting to get the picture.”
The trees close in around us now. We’ve left the main commune behind completely. It’s just forest here—dense, wild, beautiful. The path is barely more than two ruts in the ground. I look around, not seeing even a glimpse of the perimeter fence that must be out there somewhere.
“Almost there,” Keric says.
And then I see it.
His cabin emerges from the trees like something out of a storybook. Solid logs, large windows, a wide porch. Smoke curls from the chimney. It’s isolated, surrounded by forest on all sides, but it’s not rough or primitive.
Keric parks the cart near the porch steps and kills the engine. The sudden silence is deafening.
“This is it,” he says quietly. “Home.”
I stare at the cabin and my heart hammers in my chest. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Come on.” He climbs out, grabs my go-bag from the back. “Let me show you inside.”
I follow him up the porch steps. Keric unlocks the front door and pushes it open, gesturing for me to enter first.
The inside is even better than the outside. It’s warm and inviting. A fire crackles in a stone fireplace. The main living space is open, with comfortable-looking furniture sized for an orc but not unwelcoming. The kitchen area to one side, surprisingly modern. There’s a loft above and a hallway beyond the living area. Everything is tidy, organized, masculine. It smells like woodsmoke and leather.
“I haven’t been here since I moved out to Truckee with Garlen and the others. Some of the other orcs came in ahead of us today, dusted, lit a fire for us and stocked the kitchen for us too.”
“Oh, that’s really nice of them.”
“There’s only one bedroom and it’s yours,” he says abruptly, setting my bag down.
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that yet.” I turn. “Where will you sleep?”
He nods toward the couch. “There.”
I look at the couch. Then at him. He’s easily seven feet tall, maybe more. Broad shoulders, massive frame. “You’re too big for that couch.”
His mouth quirks. “I’ll manage.”
“Keric—”
“The bedroom is yours,” he repeats, firm but gentle. “That’s not negotiable.”
Something in his tone makes me pause. “Wait.” My brain catches up. “Why do I need to live with you? Can’t I have my own place, somewhere else on the commune? That way you don’t have to be inconvenienced and squeeze onto that couch.”
