The bed was large enough that we didn’t touch, but I felt his presence acutely. Heat radiated from his body. He was a regular old orc furnace. The blankets shifted as he arranged himself.
“Comfortable?” His voice sounded different in the darkness. Deeper, more intimate.
“Yes. You?”
“I’m alright.”
We lay in silence, me hyper-aware of him lying so close. The wind continued its assault on the cabin, but inside, only our breathing disturbed the quiet. Despite my exhaustion, sleep seemed impossible with him so close yet carefully distant.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. My body gradually relaxed despite my racing mind, exhaustion overcoming my awareness. Becken’s breathing settled into a steady rhythm.
As consciousness began to slip away, I found myself focusing on the deep, even breaths of the orc beside me. There was something comforting about not being alone in the storm, about having someone solid and reliable nearby.
I had no idea what to think about that. I’d spent my entire adult life avoiding dependence on others. I took pride in my independence.
One night in a blizzard shouldn’t change that.
Chapter 8
Becken
Iwoke to the sound of chattering teeth.
The cabin had gotten colder during the night, frost crystallizing on the inside of the windows. My breath formed visible clouds as I turned toward Carla.
She lay curled on her side of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, her shoulders shaking with each shiver. Even covered with blankets, she was still too cold.
Orcs ran warmer than humans. I’d been comfortable under my share of the blankets, but she was freezing.
I should wake her. Help her rearrange the covers, doubling them up on her side. Keep a respectable distance while ensuring she didn’t suffer.
Instead, I found myself moving closer to her.
The mattress dipped under my weight as I shifted across the space between us. Carla’s shivering intensified, and she reached out, her body seeking warmth even in sleep. When I pulled the blankets up to slide all the way onto her side of the bed, she unconsciously pressed closer to me.
Her back fitted against my chest, her hair tickling my face. The citrus scent of her shampoo filled my nostrils, mixing withthe warm smell of her skin. She was small compared to me, delicate in a way that made every protective instinct I possessed roar to life.
This was going to be a problem. Not only the proximity, but the way my body responded to hers. My damn cock… I wasn’t going to think about my cock.
I should move away. Put distance between us before she woke and found herself in the arms of a male she barely knew.
But she’d stopped shivering. Her breathing had evened out into the deep rhythm of peaceful sleep. Moving now might wake her, and she needed rest to heal.
At least that’s what I told myself as I lay there, too aware of every point where our bodies touched. Of my damn cock. Of her shoulder blades pressing against my chest. The curve of her spine along my stomach. The way her legs tucked up toward mine under the shared blankets.
Wexla had never felt like this in my arms.
The thought hit me like a sorhox kick to the chest. How could I even think such a thing? Wexla had been kind. Gentle. We’d shared a comfortable partnership, built on mutual respect and affection. She’d deserved better than dying young from an illness no healer could cure.
She’d also never made my pulse race the way Carla did just by breathing in my arms.
Guilt twisted through my belly. It had been six months since I’d held Wexla’s hand as she drew in her last breath, promising her I’d carry her memory forever. And here I was, holding another female, thinking thoughts I should shove from my mind.
Carla shifted in her sleep, her hand finding my arm and curling around it. Even unconscious, she sought warmth and comfort.
Fromme.
The trust implied in that simple gesture undid me.
