"That's yours?" I asked.
"Yes."
As we approached, details emerged. The house was enormous, constructed from massive logs that had been stripped and buffed until they practically glowed in the light. Stone pillars—each one a work of art—anchored a generous porch that embraced the entire front facade. Actual glasswindows caught the sun and threw it back in brilliant flashes. The whole thing looked like it belonged on the cover of some impossible fantasy architecture magazine.
"Wow," I breathed. "This is... Ruka, this is stunning."
He pushed open the heavy wooden door with one hand, and I stepped across the threshold into another world.
The exterior had been impressive. The interior stole my breath.
The main room vaulted upward into cathedral-like space, easily twenty feet to where thick beams crisscrossed like the ribs of some great beast. A fireplace of epic proportions commanded one entire wall, its hearth so cavernous I could have walked into it without ducking. The stones fit together with such flawless precision they seemed to have grown that way, no mortar visible anywhere.
Every piece of furniture sang with the skill of its maker. A banquet table stretched along one wall, its surface gleaming like dark honey, easily capable of seating a dozen people. The chairs surrounding it featured intricate carvings and seats woven in complex patterns. Near the fireplace, a couch built to Orc-scale proportions sprawled invitingly, upholstered in buttery leather and heaped with cushions and throws in rich earth tones.
"Did you make all this?" I asked, trailing my fingers across the table's silken surface.
"Some. Others were gifts from clan members. We each contribute what we can." He gestured toward a loft overlooking the main space. "My quarters are up there."
I glimpsed a railing and what appeared to be built-in shelving before he was already moving, leading me down a hallway that branched off from the great room.
"Your room is here," he said, opening a door.
The bedroom beyond made the one in my bedroom look like a closet.
A bed fit for royalty anchored the space, buried under an avalanche of blankets and furs that looked cloud-soft and impossibly warm. The frame rose from the same polished wood as everything else, its posts thick as tree trunks. Woven rugs in geometric patterns covered the floor. A window framed a view of the forest, and beneath it sat a small writing desk with a chair that looked almost delicate compared to everything else.
"This is for me?" The words came out in a squeak.
"Yes. And through here—" He crossed to another door.
I followed, then froze in the doorway.
A bathroom. A real, functioning bathroom. The fixtures were clearly handcrafted—a sink with a hammered copper basin that caught the light like captured fire, a toilet fashioned from smooth wood and glazed clay, and dominating the far wall, a copper tub large enough to swim in that gleamed like a new penny.
"You have indoor plumbing," I said stupidly, because my brain had apparently short-circuited.
"We are not savages," Ruka said, and I definitely heard amusement threading through his voice. "We have a spring-fed system. The water comes from higher in the mountains. It runs cold, but there is a heating mechanism for the tub—a fire box beneath that warms the water. It takes time, but..." He shrugged those massive shoulders. "It works."
I spun to face him, this towering Orc chieftain casually explaining indoor plumbing like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Incredible doesn't even begin to cover it. You've built all this—the water system, the heating—with your own hands?"
"With many hands," he corrected, but there was a flicker of pride in those amber eyes. "A village works together. You are a guest. You should have comfort."
"Comfort?" I laughed, a little breathless. "Ruka, this is luxury. I've stayed in hotels that weren't this nice."
The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close enough to make my heart skip.
Standing there in the warm glow filtering through the windows, surrounded by the evidence of careful craftsmanship and thoughtful design, something shifted in my chest. The scent of wood smoke and pine drifted in on the mountain breeze. Everything felt solid here. Real. Like the world had finally stopped tilting beneath my feet.
This place—this impossible, beautiful place—felt more comfortable to me than anywhere I'd been in years. More than my cramped cabin. Certainly more than the fluorescent-lit chaos of the ER where Nadine watched my every move like a hawk circling prey.
The thought should have terrified me. I'd known Ruka for what, a day? Less? And yet here I was, standing in his home, feeling like some essential piece of myself had clicked into place.
When I looked up at him, I wondered if he could read it all on my face—the wonder, the confusion, the strange certainty blooming in my chest that being here was exactly where I needed to be.
"Thank you," I said quietly. The words felt inadequate for everything I wanted to express, but his eyes softened like he understood anyway.
Ruka dipped his head in that formal way of his, though something warmer flickered beneath the gesture. "Make yourself at home. Explore. I have duties to attend to, but Zuhra will bring supplies soon."
