"Two guards." His voice was flat. Unimpressed. "Three or four outriders at most, for a debt caravan of that size."
"You can't fight five or six men alone."
For the first time, something that might have been humor crossed his features.
"Delia." He said her name carefully, like he was still getting used to the shape of it. "Last night, before I found you, I killed six raiders who thought to cross into our territory."
The words hit her like cold water. "You—"
"Six." He held up a hand, ticking them off. "Three archers, two swordsmen, and one who tried to run." His gaze met hers without flinching. "The guard captain and his handful of men are not a concern."
She'd known. Abstractly, she'd known. He was an orc warrior, a captain of the border patrol—of course he'd killed people.Of course he was dangerous. But hearing him say it so casually, so matter-of-factly, like snuffing out human lives was simply part of his evening...
She should have been terrified.
But she remembered the raiders who'd attacked border villages. Remembered the stories of farms burned, women taken, men gutted and left for the crows. She remembered that the human kingdom had its own monsters, and they didn't need tusks.
"You killed them because they were crossing into your territory?"
"I killed them because they'd already raided a trade caravan." His voice was grim now, the dark humor gone. "Found what was left of the merchants an hour before. The raiders were heading back to human lands with stolen goods."
"Oh."
"So yes. I can fight five or six men. The question isn't whether I'm capable." He leaned back slightly, studying her. "The question is whether you want me to."
Delia blinked. "What?"
"I won't force you to stay. Won't force you to accept my protection if you'd rather try your luck elsewhere." His voice was careful, measured. "If you want to find your own way, I won't stop you."
"I can't evenwalk."
"I know. Which is why I'm asking now, before it becomes urgent." His eyes held hers, steady and serious. "What do you want, Delia?"
There it was again. That question. The one no one had ever asked her.
What do you want?
She wanted to be safe. She wanted to be warm. She wanted to stop running, stop hiding, stop feeling like prey in a world designed to consume her.
She looked at him. At the massive orc warrior who had knelt in the mud and shown her his empty hands. Who had carried her through the forest like she weighed nothing. Who had spent the entire night awake, watching over her, and then dressed her wounds.
"I want to believe you," she whispered. "I want to believe that someone would actually—that I could actually—"
Her voice broke.
She wanted to trust him. That was the terrifying truth, the thing she could barely admit even to herself. Some part of herwantedto believe that this stranger meant what he said. That she could matter to someone.
She wanted to believe the stories were wrong.
"Okay," she said, the word escaping before she could stop it. "Okay. I want—I want to stay with you. At least until I can walk. At least until I know—"
She couldn't finish. Didn't know how.
But something shifted in Ralvar's face. That darkness behind his eyes softened into something that looked almost like relief.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Then you stay with me."
Chapter 7
